Day 15. 24/9/11: Wilpena Pound to Wilpena Pound
Poo bum shit bugger damn… etc. I (Tim) woke up this morning with a sore foot, so we haven't gone anywhere. I've spent the day reading in the hammock and Lily has spent the day catching up on work for her editing course, and we both had a break where we went and had a skinny latte and a cookie (Lily) and a chocolate milkshake and muffin (Tim), so it's not as if it's been a bad day.
It's just very frustrating and dread-inducing to have a flare-up of what feels like the same injury (but on the other foot) which stopped me from running and riding for more than a month earlier this year. Back then, I went and saw a sports doctor, a podiatrist and had x-rays. Then, it got to the point where it was so sore it hurt to walk and swelled up so that even riding caused me considerable pain. Nothing much showed up, so maybe I'm just a wimp. But in general I'm not that bad a patient. They (the doctors) figured that my bone structure - with my clawed toes - was such that the bones of my forefoot pushed down on each other in the same way that the bones in your hand get crushed when someone (usually a teenage boy) does that particular kind of handshake where one person tries to crush the bones in the other person's hand. It wouldn't do any permanent damage, they said. But it feels like walking with a stone stuck between the balls of my foot, with a small hard sack of fluid bulging out towards my toes, so trying to do 16 or 18 or 24 kilometres of trail running is unlikely to work out. And I was feeling great during and after yesterday's run!
I spent the run thinking about running smoothly and while running downhill is hard on your feet, we'd finished running by 9:30 and I didn't have any pain. The only things I did feel were, at the very start of the run, the sensation that I had a small pebble - a spec of something the size of a seed - in my sock, just where the problem eventually came up this morning. I took my shoe and sock off twice to remove the culprit, but couldn't find anything. Maybe that was it. And having spent the day not walking or running, and mostly lying with my foot raised (up the other end of the hammock), it still doesn't feel any better.
I have worn socks for the last two days. Maybe it was them that compressed my bones together enough to cause the problem. Before that, I hadn't been, but I'd thought socks would help keep my feet a little drier/less sweaty. Or maybe it's just over-use. Injury has always been my fear about this whole run adventure. For me, I have no doubt I have the energy and cardio-vascular fitness (or at least enough base fitness to adapt along the way). And I think Lily, who's run and ridden next to me, would agree. But my fickle feet may let me down. I've been nursing my achilles really well, and they've been settling down nicely. Each day my calves are actually more relaxed, and this puts less stress on my achilles, and so they've been less tender, too. All good. Then suddenly this morning I can't put weight on my right forefoot without hobbling like a horse with something stuck in its hoof. Useless. If I'm not better tomorrow, Lily may have to take me out the back and shoot me. Since we don't have a gun, she may have to put me down using just the cutlery we've brought with us, so it's going to be messy and drawn out - not enjoyable for anyone, especially in a public camp ground.
As I said at the start: bugger. For now, I think I may as well go and get another Freddo Frog. Running and riding has made us both want great food. (I'm being serious now.) Lily's legs are getting more toned and Tim's eyes have finally started to look more white than yellow. Healthy living is good! But being injured and sitting around makes me just want to eat chocolate. (And read lots of good books.) We'll see what happens tomorrow. Hopefully we'll go for a walk at least.
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