My right foot is, to put it politely, effed.
I’m struggling right now with a persistent bout of plantar fasciitis (which my physio says is now thought of not as an “itis” — inflammation — but a pathology — i.e., deterioration), compounded by a thing I’ve never even heard of before, called heel fat pad syndrome.
In other words, my feet are effed. I have significant pain anytime I put weight on my right foot — which tends to interfere with all of the things that keep me sane, like walking-hiking-yoga-weight-training-cycling — i.e., living like an active being.
My brain keeps making up little puns about “de agony of de feet.” Anyone who grew up in North America during the 1970s will remember this Wide World of Sports intro about The Thrill of Victory and the Agony of Defeat, where skier Vinko Bogataj crashes off course and somersaults into the crowd.
(This little segment immediately brings back images of eating spaghetti in front of the TV, our meals balanced on those flimsy little TV tables. Does anyone have those anymore?)
Puns aside, I think I keep harkening back to 50 years ago because I can’t avoid the fact that this round of foot pain is age related. Words like “deterioration” never feel great, and after I ordered some devices designed to help recovery, I got a notice in my email of a webinar about the relationship between menopause and foot issues, including plantar fasciitis and heel fat pad syndrome.
Insert “mind blown” emoji here — has anyone ever mentioned menopause and foot issues to you?
It all makes sense — less estrogen means less elasticity and collagen, which means more fragile fascia and thinning of the fat pads in the feet. BUT I DON’T LIKE IT.
I’ll wait for the webinar to tell me what additional strategies I might try, but I will note that this round of pain is the most resistant to treatment I’ve had. I’ve had plantar fasciitis before, but it was quickly resolved with some stretching, ice, and good running shoes. I also developed a painful morton’s neuroma in my other foot during the covid lockdown (too much time barefoot), but it healed relatively quickly.
This time, all the physio has for me is taping and “cushioned but structured shoes, all the time.” Canadians do NOT wear shoes in the house — so finding Structured House Shoes is a swerve for me. I hate wearing shoes.
I am trying not to be completely freaked out by this — I’m resting, doing yoga, doing my physio exercises, doing osteo for the rest of my alignment, riding my spin bike. WEARING SHOES IN THE HOUSE. Trying to be sanguine about the fact that my mobility is limited just at the time when I’m trying to write a book, so maybe the universe is telling me to sit down and write. But. Being immobile is a challenge for my very being — especially as the weather is alluring and beckoning me to frolic.
I’m trying to embrace my reality and find adaptable ways for self-care — interspersing stretching throughout my day, eating thoughtfully so I don’t end up feeling sluggish, being religious about using my spin bike (time to level up in zwift again), doing more upper body workouts. Yet another Unexpected Aging Body Need, like my eyebrows falling out. But I am not amused by the irony of this continual need to find ever more emotional elasticity just as my physical elasticity disappears.
What about you? How are YOUR feet? Any menopausal changes? How are you coping?
Fieldpoppy is Cate Creede-Desmarais, who is currently grounded in Toronto, thinking longingly of the many places in the world they’ve trod. Here is Cate’s foot climbing the side of a temple in the fields of Bagan in Myanmar in 2013. Note the bandaids. Poor well-used feet.
