Ok, I guess I really am 55+, and my feet know it. Unfortunately, along with freedom 55 comes my new friends – arthritis, low thyroid, thinning and greying hair, etc. All the fun parts of aging. Sigh.
A summer filled with tons of hiking and small adventures, combined with my walking the streets of London, flared up my planter’s fascias so much that I can now barely walk. I am taking treatment, and have done all the proper precautions but still have been unable to stop the clock. In our 50’s , the term biological clock has a new meaning. It’s not about having a family – it’s about doing the things we want before our bodies defeat us.
So, note to self: Do as much as I can in the next few years before it is too late. I guess the quilting, cleaning closets, re-decorating the house and other more sedentary adventures will be put off a little longer so that I can grab the physical adventures NOW!
I never thought it would be my big toe that would be the source of such annoyance. Alas, what can you do except keep trying. Here’s to my feet:)
Tales From the Crossing 