I would bitch slap all of the shoe salesmen who sold my shoes as a child.
I am 5’10” inches tall and I have the long feet to match. I’d grown out of a size ten by the time I was ten years-old. Problem with that was most stores didn’t carry shoes over guess what size… Yep, ten.
So, my long, skinny feet (AAA) with their long, skinny toes were shoved into too small shoes most of my life. I remember going to shoe stores, getting my feet measured, the scratching of the chin, the meeting of eyebrows… and then the lie. Every. Single. Time.
This gave me crooked toes. As a young adult, I worked on repairing this problem. I searched for shoes that would fit and ended up spending most of my time in narrow men’s shoes, sandals (with toes hanging over end) or Keds. I could find those in my size.
(A neighbor’s kid once pointed out a pair of Keds at a store and called them Rinda shoes. <g>)
Why am I complaining about something so odd on a writer’s blog?
I sit on my butt to work. I’m always sitting with a laptop in my lap or on a desk or on a table. (I mix it up to keep from being bored). All that sitting requires a decent workout. Yesterday, I seriously enjoyed my four miles on the Treadmill. I rocked out to Tool, The Spill Canvas, The Gathering and Ladytron. I plotted and the jolt of my feet on that belt kept time with my fleeing heroine.
Today? All those stupid crooked toes are covered in blisters. Every week it’s the same. Run, recover, run, recover. I’ve been told I just need to build up the calluses-but have you ever tried to run with blisters on the sides of toes that lean on each other?????