If you’ve read my blog much (and you probably haven’t) then you know I’ve been running strictly barefoot for all year, except for mud runs. Something about climbing a rope net barefoot intimidates me, though at the last one I went to there were a few people who did so maybe I’ll give it a go the next time. (sorry, squirrel)
Anyways, while I mostly run in the neighborhood I also occasionally run in the woods across the way and I have never yet hurt my feet. Something about knowing I don’t want to step on a snake or bug seems to just make me more aware of where I’m putting my feet. The funny thing is that I still space out and don’t consciously look where I’m going fairly often – but something subconscious seems to be paying attention because I DO pass freakishly close to the occasional snake, bug or oil spot but always jump over them.
Tonight I ended up running on the treadmill because I hate running outside when it’s not dark and I felt like running early. As a matter of fact, all day today I couldn’t wait to run tonight. So, I got started and it was horrible. My right calf hurt, which it never does. I got really hot really quick, I got tired, I quit at about a mile because my stupid calf was just feeling weirdly not right.
I got off the treadmill and went to the kitchen to make a drink (vodka and grapefruit juice DOES cure all ills you know) and I realized my toe was hurting. Bad. Why? Because I had a loooong splinter in it. That I got running inside on a treadmill. WTF?
Does it ever feel to anyone else like life is a series of jokes?