Monday was, for the most part, a great run: 12mi at a quick, comfortable clip even though it was 75 degrees out (you know I love me some weather whippin’). But my toe!! Oh my toe. It was like running on razorblades the whole time. Yesterday, I could only run 4mi, it hurt too much and I was changing my gait to compensate. Very bad.
If squeamish, skip
When I got home from the failed run, I discovered that the main cause of pain was due to little blood blisters forming in the injury from knocking against the rubber surround of my shoe.
End of scary bit
So with a little help from my friendly box cutter and my oldest working pair of Mens Kinvaras, I chopped out a chunk of rubber, same as I used to have to do regularly with the Ladies Kinvaras but this time on the other foot. I also figured out how to wrap up the injury effectively – a physics problem which had eluded me from the start. That one thing let me walk around town yesterday without a modicum of pain. Finally!
So the worst is over. I can’t wait to get back out there today, restarting the high mileage train I’d hopped upon before this slight derailment. And I promise to never, ever, ever again cut the callous off my pinky toe. Ever.
Aside from that, in completely unrelated news, Fran and I are no longer an item. We’re still friends but I’m back to being a free agent in the world again. It’s positive and all for the best (nothing drama worthy) but I thought I would mention it. You know, in case some rich handsome dude reads this blog and wants to take me to the south of France or something.