Dear Feet,
I'm sorry I ranted at you publicly the other day. I was really in a bad spot and took my frustration out on you.
But you're a champ, Feet. Really. I promised I'd get you checked out and you passed all the tests! No arthritis, no stress fractures, and likely no plantar fasciitis.
The verdict? Overuse. Yep feet, I have used and abused you during this half marathon training and you were trying to tell me all along that you needed some rest. I'm glad I listened to you yesterday when you told me to stop at 3 miles.
So I have an anti-inflammatory to make you heal faster. And brand new special inserts to go in my shoes. If these don't work, I'll get you the even MORE fancy inserts that are made specifically for you. I am going to pamper you by giving you an ice massage over a frozen water bottle, and treat you to some Biofreeze for some cool, tingly relief.
We even surprised the podiatrist when we were there, since he asked if Mr. Stomach was surgically modified to have lost the weight. Nope, Mr. Stomach is still full size. Feet, you're making things happen.
You + me? We're a team. BFFs.
xoxo,
Emmie
