All God's Children Got 'em

I Got Shoes

When I was a child, it was common to have three pairs of shoes: school shoes, Sunday shoes, and gym shoes. In the summer, I wore sandals or went barefoot. After a productive growth spurt, I can remember complaining about my Sunday shoes being too tight. Ever frugal, my mother did not give in to my pleas for new shoes. It must have been close to Easter when I would get new, white patent leather shoes, so I had to wait with my feet pinched into my shoes making me even more fidgety during Church services.

In fifth grade, I added to my charm by having warts and corns on my feet. I guess all that pinching had its effect.  I can remember being in the foot-doctor’s office having my warts burned off. Apparently, the podiatrist’s bedside manner was less than cordial. My dad later told me that he snickered with glee when I vomited on the doctor. After this ordeal, I had to wear snow-boots to school as they were the only shoes I had that did not pinch my feet.

That pinching became more familiar as I entered into adulthood and had jobs where a woman wore a skirt and heels. The fashion of the time called for pointed toes and four-inch heels bringing me to a soaring six-feet-two. I loved wearing high-heels. I loved how my legs looked, I loved how my butt looked, and I loved towering over people and feeling powerful. The enormous ubiquitous shoulder pads of the 1980’s helped perpetuate the look but did nothing for my corns.

I can remember soaking my feet after a day at work and wondering if I’d ever be without foot pain. The answer is no. After I gained weight, I was diagnosed with plantar fasciitis. Now it felt as if I was stepping on a stone on my heel.  I added some shoe insertions AKA Orthotics (something old people wear) to my accessories with instructions to wear nothing but gym shoes. Lovely.

I have several kinds of gym shoes now. Gone are the flat-rubber-soled, canvas toped Keds. I have gym shoes for walking, for exercise inside the gym, for exercise when I might go outside, and I have the all-purpose gym shoes in basic black. They look stunning with my little black dress. The other day, I needed to take a walk. I was in a hurry and grabbed my indoor/outdoor shoes. I wore these last fall when I took a walk around the block; they wore a blister at my heel, but I attributed it to not wearing socks. The walk I planned was an hour-long walk. I was wearing socks this time, but these shoes will now be referred to as my blister shoes.

I wasn’t even halfway before I felt the tell-tale pain. I had to decide what to do. Clearly, I needed to go home, but when. Should I toughen up and do the full hour? I knew that resting wouldn’t make a difference, and I wasn’t carrying band-aids. After going a little more than halfway, I decided to head back home. There were several times that I almost took my shoes off and risked the barefoot experience, but that would cause other pains with my heels, so I stuck it out.

Sure enough, each of my heels sported a huge blister. Well, so much for more walks. Patrick was not discouraged. He said to double-up my socks and keep going. I switched my workouts to biking and swimming. I haven’t yet walked for an hour. It’s been a week. One side is pretty-much healed, but the other has a yucky scab that sometimes opens up when I wear shoes and my Band-Aids come off. I guess that’s part of no pain no gain if foot pain is any measure.