Health is hard enough—so it stinks when you make it even harder.
“How far do you want to go?” my friend asked.
“I’m game for 5,” I said.
I mean, why the heck not? We were at the beach, the morning forecast called for cool temps, and a brisk walk in the packed sand just after sunrise sounded like the perfect post-coffee start to the day.
Before we headed out, I told my two buddies that I was going to go bare foot, because when you walk along the ocean, slithering in and out of the gentle surf feels as mandatory as weekly PSLs this time of year.
My fitter friends started at a quick-for-me pace, but I didn’t care. We chatted about life, about work, about billion-dollar Powerball and haven’t-tried-it-yet pickleball. About 20 minutes into our planned 5-miler, my esophagus-less feet felt like they had a case of heartburn. Mildly uncomfortable, intermittent sparks.
I whined a touch but felt inspired to keep up. This. Should. Not. Feel. That. Hard. When we reached halfway, I told my friends I had to slow it down. I figured it was just a bit of muscle soreness, rationalizing that the little muscles in my feet weren’t used to the sand.
After I limped to the end, we drove back to where we were staying.
“Holy [ship],” one friend said after looking down and seeing the outline of a blister creeping out from under my heel to the side of my foot.
I dropped to the stoop and lifted my feet for my friends to scan.
They repeated what they had just said, but this time in ALL-CAPS.
Both feet looked like world maps dotted with the continents of bubbling blisters. All over the heel. The entire width of the ball. On the middle three toes. My mild “heartburn” had intensified to straight-up lava.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” I said to my wife and everyone else. “Why the [truck] didn’t I just wear shoes? Stupid.”
For two days, I could barely walk, though I did my best to home-remedy them as quickly as possible. My feet upgraded from painful to tender after about 48 hours, but moving around remained a challenge for longer than I had anticipated.
My impulsive decision reminded me of the lesson I struggle with every day. Just because something looks appealing (chorizo and cheese burritos?) doesn’t mean it’s the smartest thing to do in the long run. I was reminded of that lesson for the days after—when my eight-minute walk from my office to the parking lot took closer to 20.
While I can see the humor in my mistake now, I didn’t laugh then—except when I turtled to my car on my so-so-sensitive feet and realized I left the keys in my office.
Ted Spiker (@ProfSpiker) is the chair of the University of Florida Department of Journalism, as well as a health and fitness writer. He is the author of “Down Size,” a book about the science and soul of weight loss and dieting.
