I get spooked when my hips and knees hurt. I’m trying to make it through this life with all my original equipment. Joint pain is one of the reasons I stopped farming, sold my house, and moved into a much smaller place. The physical labor of farming was grinding my bones together. I did it for love, so no complaints. But it was obvious to me that I couldn’t continue unless I planned on having my joints replaced.
I lived on my farm for 18 years and the whole time I wore muck boots outside. But they weren’t my favorite shoes. When I got dressed up to go into town, I wore leather street shoes. After I moved to the city and began walking my dog on the sidewalk, I wore my leather street shoes everyday, strolling for miles on cement, and it wasn’t long before my knees and my hips started hurting again. A friend suggested I change my shoes from thin soles to something with more bounce. That was a disappointment. There was a reason other than manure that I never owned athletic shoes. I thought they were ugly.
Researching my problem I made a mind-boggling discovery. Yes, my feet are changing. They started out cushioned with a layer of thick spongy fat, like deep dish pizza dough. Now they’re cushioned by a thin delicate layer of fat, like a French crepe. That’s why my bones have no bounce. My foot fat is disappearing. Really? The fat on the bottom of my feet has disappeared all on its own? Without me even knowing it was there? That kills me.
If walking on my feet for 65 years is all it takes to make my layer of foot fat disappear, maybe I should have been rolling around on the floor for a few hours every day to lose all that other fat. It doesn’t seem fair that the only fat that disappears with age is the fat no one could see in the first place. Maybe my foot fat didn’t disappear at all — maybe it just crawled up my leg to my thighs.
Eventually I got a pair of high tech athletic shoes. They’re like tire tread with laces. But their soles absorb the impact of the sidewalk, they insulate my joints from the repetitive jolt, and the traction protects me from slipping and sliding. The pain in my knees and my hips has subsided. So I’ve succumbed to ugly shoes. Really ugly shoes. At least until I find a way to suck the fat out of my thighs and put it back on the bottom of my feet where it belongs.
10 thoughts on “My Ugly Shoes”
Love it ❤ love the humor in the truth of everyday pains, I’m right there with you. I have been doing a lot of walking lately, wearing my worn out sandals, yikes!! I really need to breakout the Pumas, athletic shoes, from my closet. Advice taken, thank you!! ❤
Yes, breakout your Pumas. Put some bounce in your life. Thanks for reading.
Loud belly laugh while having lunch with my dog. Everyone turned to see who did it.
Embarrassed but worth it?
Hey, Rebs. You always had such pretty feet. Beach feet.
Say it ain’t so. Great one though!
Thanks, Joe! Great to hear from you.
I can ONLLY wear ugly shoes. My waitress hoes are my party shoes. W Orthotics to save my gnarly feet. I’d love to be able to wear nice clothes and hipster shoes, but just plain can’t. And all my $ goes into recording which as Vanilla you know all about.
I know being a waiter kills your feet. Just be glad you don’t have to wear high heels and dance with your customers.
OMGosh – HYSTERICAL!! LOVE!!!!!! XOXOX