WOW. That was quite possibly the stupidest thing I've ever done.
Since the time changed and it gets dark just after LUNCH I've had to resort to running on the treadmill the past few days. I'm not a treadmill fan by any stretch of the imagination, but it gets the job done and is bearable when accompanied by music or TV.
Yesterday I went home a little early so Matt and I could both squeeze in a run (Tuesdays we're always tight on time because of Bible study). I don't know what possessed me, but I decided to run barefoot. On the treadmill, that's right.
All went well for a few minutes, the main discernible difference being that each step was really loud (THUD! THUD! THUD!) compared with when I'm wearing, you know, shoes. Around mile 2 Matt, drawn by the pounding noise, walked in, looked at my feet, looked at me, looked back at my feet, shook his head and walked out.
Around mile 3 my feet started to feel like they were on fire. I decided to push through the pain for 10 more minutes. I know, I'm brilliant.
I was going to post only these pictures, of my feet immediately following the run:
But these pictures, taken after a shower, are better because they show that my feet weren't only filthy -- they're blistery. As I said, I'm brilliant:
If you notice me walking around on my heels for the next week, now you know why.