Dear Feet,
Remember that time when a strange man up to me one summer day, when I was walking around Boston with my girlfriends, and said, “You have beautiful feet.”
Okay, in hindsight, it was pretty creepy and maybe a little gross — particularly since I was 16 at the time.
But I think something about his (bizarre) words kind of resonated with me.
So I treated you over the years to frequent pedicures — a favorite indulgence.
I took pictures of you in different bodies of water to chronicle my travels (Pacific Ocean, Mediterranean Sea, Carribbean Sea).
I decorated you with a rainbow array of nail polish colors, switching it up every other week, because looking down and seeing pink, sparkly tootsies makes me happy.
And then I started running.
I know it’s been hard — often punishing — on you. You’ve been bruised and battered.
You’ve given me burning pain in the ball of my left foot on many an occasion. You’ve gotten blisters. And calluses. And lets not forget about black toenails…and missing toenails.
And because I need those protective calluses, and (I hate to say) I’m a bit embarrassed by how you look, those regular pedicures have become a thing of the past.
Yes, you’ve gotten ugly. I’ve let you get ugly.
And I am sorry.
But you know what? I still find you beautiful.
Because, every year, you carry me over literally hundreds of miles, through races and long runs and everything in between.
Because you regularly absorb more force than any other part of the body when I run.
Because you literally give me the foundation upon which I can run.
Because you continue to take one for the team.
And for that I am grateful.
So know that I realy do recognize all the sacrifices that you’ve made over the years…and that you’ve pretty much forfeited any chance that a perfect stranger will randomly compliment you (which, let’s be honest, is something I’m perfectly okay with).
And I will do my best to give you, my overworked and underappreciated friends, more of the TLC you deserve from here on out, whether it’s an ice bath, massages…and maybe even a return to that pedicure chair.
(And in return, maybe we can call a truce with the whole black toenail-falling-off thing? Because, let’s admit it, it’s pretty gross.)
xoxo
me