Another installment of Kate Cunningham’s Confessions of a Converted Pedestrian….

Before you close your browser and run screaming to your Ebola bunker it’s not the flesh eating one. The flesh eating one is necrotising. The foot one is just plain agonising. I had suffered from this one before after the birth of my second child and it went away after a few weeks with the judicious application of Birkenstocks. An inflammatory skin condition means I can’t take painkillers which is both a blessing and a curse so when it returned (with an inflaming vengeance!)  I was pretty downhearted.

A bit of reading about its causes brought the dawning realisation that the pressure of a dog who insists on sleeping on my right foot had caused the inflammation of my heel. All those years ago it was caused by sitting with feet up, endlessly feeding my son. It’s a sitting condition! The irony!

On day one I was in pain and returned to Birkenstocks while contemplating the tragic numbers on my pedometer. On day 2 I couldn’t bear to think this might compete with the never ending storm cycle to put me back on my rear and, brace yourself, I knew I couldn’t go back to that because everything is better after 10,000 steps a day. Cutting a rather jaunty figure in aforementioned clogs worn with hiking socks I saddled the poodles and set forth with gritted teeth. After 15 minutes at my usual pace I realised that the pain was easing. After 2km I could no longer feel it and by the time I got home I was wondering if a miracle had occurred. It turns out that walking eases it and certainly in my case reduced the duration of the episode. Will these wonders never cease? Walking: the new medicine cabinet.

– Kate Cunningham

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