A year ago, my knees were my worst problem; once I quit my job, with its eight hours of walking a day, the pain in my knees became bearable. I can't run, or walk fast; I can't squat or kneel. But as long as I stroll slowly, the pain isn't that noticable. A walk back to the cabin, three or four times a day, hasn't been a big deal. In fact, it was downright pleasant. When you walk slowly, you take time to "smell the roses".
Then came this plantar fasciitis; my right heel hurts worse every day. In fact, it's much more intense than any pain I ever had with my knees.
I'm doing the exercises. I bought an over-the-counter heel pad, which really helped Cliff. Nothing has done a thing for me.
Cliff now believes in medical miracles, since getting his new hearing aid, and he urged me to go ahead with the specially-made-for-my-foot orthodic inserts, even though insurance won't pay the $350. So I went and got fitted. It'll be another ten days till I get them. To be honest, I don't expect them to fix my problem. Can you tell I'm depressed?
You see, I've walked for exercise since the late 1970's. Usually three to four miles a day, six days a week. When I got my last job I stopped walking for exercise at home, but I walked all day long at my job.
Now I'm getting fat. I have very little self-control when it comes to eating, and walking has always been my salvation. Try as I might, I can't force myself to walk very far with the kind of pain I'm having. And by the way, although I'm not vain about my looks by any means, it's humiliating to realize I am waddling like a duck because I'm hurting, and can't do a thing about it.
I do count my blessings. At least I can walk. I find great pleasure in riding my horse, and that's exercise for me as well as the horse (but winter is coming when I won't be able to ride often). And thank God for the Internet and good books.
It seems the more sedentary I become, the more I think up delicious things to bake.
I guess if I become fat enough, I can always go get that stomach bypass surgery like Cliff's brother's wife had. (I think I'm kidding.)
OK, enough of this pity-party. No more whining for at least a month. I promise.