When I was 18 I had bone problems in my feet corrected. I was born with big toes that pointed in, instead of straight, so my feet looked almost like they had bunions. It caused a lot of neuroma-like pain in most shoes my whole life, so I had the surgery, which led to some other problems.
I've needed orthotics every since the surgery. My feet were not born to run!
7 pleasant, easy miles early this morning, the first 3 with Weasley,
who seemed very annoyed to be awakened so early.
Protein bar and a green smoothie for breakfast. Blather: So my friend I stayed with in Buffalo told me that her 96 year old father had just moved out on her 92 year old mother. Is it wrong that the first thing I did was laugh out loud?
I know there's a divorce lawyer joke in there somewhere, even though of course it's not funny to my friend who has to deal with the fallout from this shit (in addition to having her husband go through chemo right now
). But I guess when you're 96, you think a lot about how you want to spend your final moments on earth, and maybe the guy was just being honest with himself?
Bonus: I don't carry my phone for short local runs- if there's an accident where I'm hurt badly, I won't be able to call for help, and if I'm not hurt badly, I won't need to call for help. I do carry my phone on long runs, which I usually drive to a distant park for. I suppose there could be a situation where I needed to call the police, but I can always ring a doorbell and ask for help. Also, if I have my phone, Philip can find me on Find My Friend if something went wrong, but he probably would look for hours anyway.