I really don’t care for feet, but I like them more than my ex.
Anyway, this isn’t a post about how I rate body parts and then compare them to unfortunate wasted years, this is a post about listening to my body, and learning to not abuse it. Starting from the bottom up. Not literally my bottom, but from the ground up, therefore, my feet.
Today was Monday. The first non Bank Holiday or weekend day after Christmas. Which, for me, along with many others, meant a ‘normal working day’. Joy to the world.
Life is a playground of swings and roundabouts mind you, so ‘work’ today consisted of cooking myself up a decent breakfast, logging on, and checking the email requests, if any, that had come through. There were a few, and work lasted for all of about 90 minutes. Not bad all in all. So, I shut down, hopped in the shower, slip slap and slopped on a lot of sunscreen, and set off on the 6.5km walk to the beach. Happy holidays!
I arrived at the beach, and was somewhat shocked. It was pretty darn empty. I mean, if it was the temperature it was here (27degrees) in the UK, or even half there of, you wouldn’t be able to see a grain of sand for all the crispy fried chavs making the most of the sunshine. I picked my spot, threw down my towel, kicked off my jandals (aka flip flops to a lot of people), removed a layer (not in a hussy type way, I was wearing a beach dress with my beach garments underneath) and applied more sunscreen. Then, rolled over and got deeply involved with my new book. The Happiness Project, by Gretchen Rubin.
I’m an over-thinker. Someone that struggles to switch ones mind off. Constantly annoyed by an ever growing distraction of ‘To Do Lists’ in my mind. Today I discovered a happy hobby, and a winning place to do this. Reading on the beach. Damn! I switched off so quickly and got so involved, it was perfect. One of the most smile worth Mondays I have had in some time, I’m telling ‘ee!
Three hours later, with a few more layers of sunscreen rubbed in, a cuttle of chapters down, I made the decision to get my backside home. The 6.5km walk, was once again ahead of me, and this time, the few hills were all at an incline. Sigh…
This is where the problem lies, and where my post was dreamt up.
Being such a warm day (Summer really could be finally on it’s way!) I opted for my jandals over my usual Converse (other daps* are available) to keep my feet cool. I have Havaiana’s, a brand that i’ve always found comfortable. Even on a day wandering round a few retail outlets. Until today.
About ten minutes in to the walk, I had been made aware that I had not wiped away all remnants of sand from between my thighs. A space where there is already very little space. I’m not the slimmest girl, so my thighs tend to be best friends. I’m not happy about this, but I also can’t really be ashamed, I mean, it’s clear for all to see. What upsets me is that I do a lot, A LOT, of walking. I’m also now (slowly), as you’ll note from previous posts, if you’re a regular reader, getting in to running. And also yoga. and yet, they still move more than my feet themselves. Anyway, somewhat digressing. But, what i’m getting at, is anyone that doesn’t have ‘model-esq’ (whatevs) legs, will know, that in the heat, friction can occur. I’m pleased however as (not in a smug way) general friction stopped a few years ago, so a few kgs have possibly been lost along the way. Yet, put something between them (oh, saucy!) and they act like a clamp in a toolshed. It could’ve been one grain of sand, but it felt like 1,000 grains. Along with a cheese grater. P-AINful! This was the first issue.
The second issue, brings me back to my feet. I already have, what feels like a perma blood blister on my left big toe, from what are actually the comfiest runners i’ve ever owned. Then just on Saturday, I wore in some new Summer sandals, just around the shops for a few hours, which resulted in a tiny blister on each heel and pinky. Nothing too painful, just friggin ugly as shet.
However, now, i’m not sure if it was the heat, some sand neatly placed between my sole and the footware adjoined to it, the fact there is a lot of weight bearing on it, or a combi of all three. Maybe even some other way of someone upstairs having a giggle. Within twenty minutes mind you, I was far from laughing.
You seen ‘Run Fatboy Run’? That scene with the blister. Yep, I now have one that size on both feet. Just under my toes. So i’m walking like someone that has not only got the appearance of a colon problem, but also as though she’s been walking on hot coals for a marathon length. Doubly P-AINfulLLLLL!
I love exercise, especially walking, but this, this is how it repays me. Tres unimpressed.
Anyone out there that has any foot care techniques, feel free to share. Feet are ugly anyways, in my opinion, but in the Summer months, I can’t be snugging them in to Converse / runners 24/7, surely not.
Anyways, i’m now off to OD my body in aloe vera gel, no sign of pinkness but best to make sure, enjoy some Minstrels (thanks again Charlotte!!!) for medicinal purposes, oh, and admire Bradley Cooper, and the dear dear Alan, in the television screening of The Hangover. All whilst having my feet propped up on a sweet as fluffy cushion on the coffee table.
I am TOO cool. Laterz xxx
* I was informed a few years ago that ‘daps’ is not a common slang word as I had originally thought. It’s a West Country thing. With, West being Best, I stand by my choice of vocab.