“You think you deserve that pain, but you don’t.” A shoe salesman said that to a woman in a movie I saw recently as he looked at the blisters on her ankles. The backs of my ankles are a sorry sight. I am trying to break in a new pair of Sambas to walk in. If I ever play soccer with them I’m sure I’ll be happy to have my Achilles heels protected, but they are rather abused at the moment, so you get what you’re going to get anyway I guess.
But I love them, I had my last pair for 15 years before they died a hero’s death. The first walk I took in them I realized half way out that it was going to end badly, but what could I do, I had committed myself. It’s an epic battle: I fall in and out of pain, Band-Aids, retreat to shoes that don’t agitate, ointments, pain, more Band-Aids and then the callouses. They come. One toughens. You only know you’re blithely not feeling anything when you start to feel something again.
I will conquer. I walked 4 miles today in my new sneakers and they only hurt at the beginning and then at the end. Soon we’ll be old friends.