what a pain!

When I walked into a metal pole last year while walking quickly, I smashed my face. Broke my nose in a zillion pieces. Received mulitple cuts. Got lots of stitches. And needed an operation. But I knew what I had to do; I did it; soon after was healing.

Not so with my current new curse.

I come home from the Cape on July 4th after a short visit.

The next day I wake up and plan to walk, except I can't. My right heel aches. Not sure what it is, but am hopeful it's a passing thing.

Same thing next day. And the next. And the next.

Finally, on July 24th, I see my podaistrist. He listens to my symptoms and immediately diagnoses me with having plantar fasciitus.

He sends me off with the hope that it might go away.

It doesn't.

I return on August 14. He looks at a scan and sees it's gotten worse.

He gives me (a very very painful, my first) cortisone shot.

I leave hopeful.

I shouldn't have been. It does nothing.

I totally abandon my weekly walking goal of 30 miles per week.

I've get all sorts of advice.

Don't walk on it as much as possible as it will just exascerbate the problem. (From one doctor).

Keep walking; it's important to keep in shape. (From another doctor).

Drink vinegar cider; it made mine go away.

Do stretching execerises.

Get custom insoles.

Take anti-inflamatories.

Spend $800 on focused ultrasound therap, though success is not guaranteed and insurance doesn't cover it.

I pretty much do nothing, but wait and hope.

It's now been six months.

In 2022 I walked an average of 32.7 miles per week (yes, I track my walking. It movitvates me).

This past year (2023) I walked an average of  25.1 miles per week.

My new goal is 20 per week, at least until this Plantars thing goes away. Which I hope someday it will.