My feet can't fail me now...or can they?

I hardly ever complained about having cancer, well, actually, maybe, as unbelievable as it sounds, I never did, because I just didn't see the point.

However, as my friends and relatives know, I have complained loudly and often about problems with my feet. This started with plantar fasciitis, an ailment that leads to loud complaining among sufferers because it is just so infuriating that an area the size of a quarter on your heel can totally incapacitate you.

Lately it has been my big toe and the area right below it on the top of my foot. It got better after I injured it some months ago and now it flared up again after my match last weekend. I think I stomped down on it pretty hard while running for a ball.

As I write this I am wearing the boot that my podiatrist said might help. I bought the thinnest strip of Ace bandaging that I could find and wrapped it around the toe because shhhhhhhhh, I'm going to tennis today. Since I can't take Advil or anything other anti-inflammatory, that's all I can do for now.

I sat around for a day or two because in addition to the toe, I was feeling a little under weather, maybe due to the weather itself. The past couple of days I have gotten back to it with a body sculpt class at the Holyoke Y (not too much pounding on the feet), Pilates at the Hampshire Y and a little indoor bike riding. I have made a commitment to go to the "total fitness" class in Holyoke tomorrow because I have a date afterwards for coffee and probably something sweet with my friend Joan Vohl Hamilton to reward ourselves for going.

I have an appointment with a podiatrist for the first week of March and am hoping maybe I can get a shot so I can still run the race. Also I put in a call to my foot guru, Ken Holt, he of the wondrous orthotics that cured my plantar fasciitis, thinking that maybe my orthotics are worn down in the toe area and I might need a new pair.

Sadly, my blog friends are gone, so I don't have a reference point for what is happening with the serious stuff. But I follow Jody Schoger, a connection via my late friend Ann Gregory. Jody writes about living with Stage 4 metastatic breast cancer. When I read her posts, I say to myself, "And I'm worrying about my feet?"

The thing is that where I am right now is about wanting to get back to the top of my game physically, which also means mentally, and you just can't have your feet acting up.

My feet can't fail me now. Sing along!