Always look after your feet

My former father-in-law, Norm Adams, was a character. Born in Winnipeg in1902, he was a veteran of WW1. According to reports he was mature for his age, forged his mother's signature when he was 13 saying that he was 16, and ended up in the trenches in France.

"Always look after you feet" he would admonish. I have thought about him a lot in the last 13 days and I would have liked to ask him specifically what that "looking after" entailed. Alas, he is long gone, so I had to do the best I could.

I thought I could remember something about, "Keep your feet dry." Dryness I felt was essential. I started out with my hiking shoes...well broken-in...with good socks changed every 3 hours. This treatment was the notion of the proprietor of Williams extra-wide shoes on Queen Street who sold me the shoes. My feet decided to heat up and act like they had been placed in an oven. At 3 hour intervals I would take damp shoes and soggy socks off, try to find some cool water, dry and powder them, put on clean dry socks and go again.

Finally, I switched to my sandals which I brought as back-up and have stuck with them. On gravel paths little stones sometimes sneak in but I have developed a few hippity hops that sometime work. The little smooth stones provide a little free reflexology treatment. Sharp persistent stones demand removal of the sandal. My feet stay cool...and I am pleased to announce...after 280 km absolutely blister-free.

 

 

I am in love with my feet. Like many folks, I have denigrated certain of my body parts. In my case this has included my feet. They are big. Number 10s, the same size as Jacqueline Kennedy, a fact that helped me survive adolescence. Today I rejoice in my feet that are taking me comfortably on this great journey. I am in awe of their brave survival of my obese phase.

Norm was right, "Always look after your feet."