Thursday, 13 February 2014

Saw feet

Week six of marathon training.
My knees creak.
My hips ache.
My head throbs (dehydration, no doubt, or that glass of wine that "seemed like a good idea at the time" last night).
My shoulders are sore (no, I have no idea either how you get sore shoulders from running, but there you go, stick that on Wikipedia medical).
My pelvic bone feels like it belongs in a retirement home.

And my feet...

Well, thanks to the glory of the internet I now know what is wrong with my feet.
It is called metatarsalgia.
Try saying that in a hurry after a ingesting one of those disgusting sticky energy gels (more of that in another post).
Akin to feeling like someone is poking hot needles through your toe bones and then relieving the associated pain by placing a pebble under the joint to the ball of the foot.

Add mud, puddles, various pieces of debris courtesy of the British weather of late and you have a rather interesting exchange on Twitter:




So here's to gel cushions, foam plasters, kinesiology tape, and many more kilometres before I get to my destination. With, or without, toes intact.

I may be walking in a most peculiar manner by then.

Mud - inside and out


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