My soft feet.
Smooth as a newborn's bottom, my amazingly soft feet are one of my few (if only) redeeming qualities, and the Pacific Crest Trail is trying to take them away from me.
Every time I remove my shoes and KEEN socks, I find that another section of my precious foot skin has decided to bubble up and tear away. My ankles are worn nearly to the bone, in between my toes has become a war zone of puss-filled landmines, and my baby toes? Let's just say that they are going wee, wee, wee all the way home.
Every step I take feels as if it were being taken onto hot coals, and my only reprieve is the fleeting and euphoric moment that the first taste of my dinner (odds favor ramen) hits my lips and makes all my troubles melt away. Come Canada, I will be surprised if my feet are ever passable for sandpaper – we may just have to throw them out.
They are also incredibly dirty.
Another curious thing – the left side of my right index toe has gone completely numb – and has been for about three days now. I wonder if it is going to fall off (possible meal?).
How these things are going to carry me to Canada, I do not know, but then again, I also do not know how airplanes work, but they do (makes sense, right?). If I could detach my feet and trade them in like a used car or an annoying relative, I would (bionic feet are the future anyways). They have served their purpose for the first 60 miles, and hopefully they will continue to do so for the remaining 2,600.
One day (hopefully in the very near future), some poor massager of feet will be charged with the restoration of my pups to their former glory, and for their work I shall be forever grateful.
I'll bet my knees go next.
