Missive to My Left Foot

Left foot. Hi. How's it going? I'm doing pretty well. A bit of fatigue that I haven't been able to figure out. Fighting a tiny cold. Other than that, things are good. Oh yeah, except for one thing -- YOU. I don't know if you heard the podiatrist two visits ago, but I know you were there. You can't have missed the "... a little too symptomatic for being almost 5 months out from surgery..." Even the threat of a steroid shot didn't straighten you out. Now, I love you. We have been together for what, 32 years? You've caused me no end of problems, but you've also really supported me, even when you were in pain. I hate to do this to you, but I thought you might like to know -- I am considering chopping you off and getting a prosthetic foot/ankle. There. I said it. I've almost run out of patience with you. The Wasatch Back is this week. 5 -- count 'em -- 5 more days. As of now, I am scheduled to run 21 miles in 24 hours. My heart can take it. My lungs can take it. My legs, knees, and hips can take it. Can you take it? Please do this for me, freaky left foot. I promise I will take you out barefoot running next week. I know you like my Vibrams. That's right. I am going to begin "The Barefoot Running Experiment" just for you. Just hold on and get me through this weekend. We can do this together. And the whole prosthetic thing? I didn't really mean it. I know we can work this out. We're a team. I'll take my Naproxen. I'll bring Tylenol and ice. We can do this. Do this for me, left foot. Please, just do this for me.