They tell me it's a rite of passage, and that it happens to everyone. I just never thought I'd be nearly 56 before it happened to me.
I lost my virginity today.
I wasn't expecting it, and I certainly wasn't looking for it. I didn't even realize it happened at first, until I looked down and saw the blood. After all, it was really tiny. And yeah, it hurt, but once it was out, everything was fine, and I didn't feel the least bit of shame or pain.
There I was, starting out my usual barefoot run with a 1-mile walk, when I felt a sudden twinge in my right heel. I figured I must have stepped on a pebble, and lightly scraped my heel on the pavement to dislodge it. Didn't give it a second thought. As I kept walking, the pain didn't really go away, so I figured that it wasn't a pebble but rather a form issue, that I must be landing on my heels too heavily, and sure enough, once I began to run and got off my heels, the pain all but disappeared. But every now and again, there it was, sharp and niggling in that right heel. About two miles in, I figured I should stop to take a look, just to make sure I really didn't have a pebble stuck down there.
What I saw wasn't a pebble, but a small amount of blood right around the area that hurt. I started to dig at it with my finger, and sure enough, there WAS something in there. I pried and dug in -- the skin on my heel was surprisingly tough -- and in a few seconds, there it was:
The proverbial piece of glass that everyone asks me if I'm afraid I'll step on.
It was small, about an eighth of an inch, and green. Once I got it out, the pain instantly subsided. I looked at the offender for a second or two, then flicked it into the street where it would find a new home in some car's tire. I was amazed at how tough the skin was where I dug the thing out, and I was able to complete the rest of the run, another 4 miles, in relative comfort.
They say you never forget your first time. I know I won't.
I lost my virginity today.
I wasn't expecting it, and I certainly wasn't looking for it. I didn't even realize it happened at first, until I looked down and saw the blood. After all, it was really tiny. And yeah, it hurt, but once it was out, everything was fine, and I didn't feel the least bit of shame or pain.
There I was, starting out my usual barefoot run with a 1-mile walk, when I felt a sudden twinge in my right heel. I figured I must have stepped on a pebble, and lightly scraped my heel on the pavement to dislodge it. Didn't give it a second thought. As I kept walking, the pain didn't really go away, so I figured that it wasn't a pebble but rather a form issue, that I must be landing on my heels too heavily, and sure enough, once I began to run and got off my heels, the pain all but disappeared. But every now and again, there it was, sharp and niggling in that right heel. About two miles in, I figured I should stop to take a look, just to make sure I really didn't have a pebble stuck down there.
What I saw wasn't a pebble, but a small amount of blood right around the area that hurt. I started to dig at it with my finger, and sure enough, there WAS something in there. I pried and dug in -- the skin on my heel was surprisingly tough -- and in a few seconds, there it was:
The proverbial piece of glass that everyone asks me if I'm afraid I'll step on.
It was small, about an eighth of an inch, and green. Once I got it out, the pain instantly subsided. I looked at the offender for a second or two, then flicked it into the street where it would find a new home in some car's tire. I was amazed at how tough the skin was where I dug the thing out, and I was able to complete the rest of the run, another 4 miles, in relative comfort.
They say you never forget your first time. I know I won't.