A Love Letter to My Feet

Dear Feet,

I’m so sorry. I can tell you’re angry, and I understand. I would be too. 

I have forced you guys to battle all kinds of gnarly injustice. Blisters and too-small shoes and too-thick socks. Collapsed arches and calluses, hot spots and cramps. Inflamed tendons, steroid packs, and disgruntled Tennessean urgent care doctors. Hostel showers and make-shift hotel ice baths. Standing up too early in the morning, hobbling downstairs. Hobbling up mountains. And perhaps the most egregious of all, toe socks. 

You, dear feet, have been through the wringer.

It is indeed cruel to spend hours a day forcing you into competition with each other. Right foot has to beat Left foot and vice versa, over and over again until someone wins. And by win I mean stop walking and collapse in a defeat, the only true victory being the removal of water-logged shoes. 

And all of this for what? For friends and strangers alike to look at you and gasp in horror. Looks of disgust followed by remarks like, “Jesus, that looks awful. Your feet look like they’re been through a woodchipper.” And those are the nice comments. 

But to me, you’re still beautiful. Have I dreaded having to peel my muddy socks, so rancid they could stand up on their own, off of you each day? Absolutely. Have I feared that every single one of your toenails will shrivel up and fall off at some point? Of course. Have I hoped and prayed each night that I could magically wake up with a brand new, fresh set of feet, blister-proof and already hardened like some kind of quasi-hoof? Duh.

But alas, I have to accept the fact that you and I are stuck with each other. And what is true love but extreme tolerance?

I will come to terms with the fact that none of my old shoes will ever fit properly again and that I will probably never regain total feeling on the right big toe. I will put my big girl pants on and drag you guys to pedicurist at the end of this. I will disassociate while the lady scrubs layers of dead skin off of you. 

And I will do it out of love. Because you guys allow me to climb mountains every day. And for that, I am forever grateful.

Yes, you’re ugly. But you’re also really f*cking cool. 

I hope you can forgive me one day,

All my love,

Pippy