I really did a number on myself at the gym on Monday. Or possibly I've been doing an ongoing number on myself for the past 8 years on porcelain tile floors. Either way, I'm in pain. Pain is really a terrific motivator; I can really see why torture is effective. I'll do anything! I'll say anything! Just take away the pain!
Monday night I could hardly walk: the souls of my feet, particularly my right heel, hurt so badly. I've had mild foot trouble for a year, which I've mostly ignored, particularly because it has been at its worst in the morning and I am too busy at that time of day to pay attention to pain receptors.
Dr. Ken, with the help of his assistant, WebMD, has diagnosed plantar fasciitis, a condition that is most common in the middle-aged or athletes. (I get to choose my own classification here.)
So I bought myself some new arch-support cushioned-heeled running shoes. I'm stretching my foot the way my online physiotherapist has taught me to (WebMD again). Now I just wait and see how quickly I improve. Plantar fasciitis takes about as long to get better as it took to acquire, so here's hoping it was recent gym activity and not 8 years on hard floors that I need to recover from.
There are more options, including splints to wear at night to keep my foot flexed while I sleep. The foot splints could be a nice addition to my carpel tunnel splint for my wrist and my dental splint for clenching and grinding at night, am I right?
(This picture turned out to be the best shot of both my wrist and dental splint.)