Since I didn't have to work out today, I showered, dressed, dried my hair, put on deodorant, trimmed my fingernails and toenails, brushed my teeth, and flossed. You might not be too impressed, but it's been a rough couple of weeks, and when I presented myself to my husband with a flourish and shouted, "TA-DA!" he knew exactly what I was talking about.
It's Day Two of the War on Plantar Fasciitis, and I have already iced once, stretched twice, and rolled a golf ball underfoot for half an hour. My feet feel much better, but I'm not being lulled into complacency. This foe must be vanquished.
P.S. I like these planned rest days much better than the oh-no-too-swamped-to-work-out-too-swamped-to-exist-panic-panic-panic rest days.
I used to tape the soles of my feet. It really helped, more than the ugly sleeping boot, but not as much as yoga and expensive shoes. Then again I'm not an iron woman. Hang in there!
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