I ordered myself a pair of VibramFiveFingers running shoes. I’d always wanted to try them and had visions of being like
Barefoot Ted – but with boobs. I’d be running everywhere in a flowing
forefoot style in my awesome toe-shoes, my graceful running style the
envy of all. And winning all the races too, of course.
I waited a whole suspense-filled week for the courier and when the box arrived, I tore off the wrappings and there they were. MY Vibrams.
 |
| Not my Vibrams … sob. |
This was going to be AWESOME.
It wasn't.
After 15 pain-filled
minutes I got the first shoe on. There was NO way the second one was
going on.
I cried inwardly as I came to the
realisation I would never be a barefoot running legend ... due to an
incurable problem.
Fat Toes.
Despite my feet looking normal (well
normal for a runner) it appeared that my little piggies had not only
had roast beef and been to the market, but had visited the deli, the
chip shop AND McDonalds before wee-wee-weeing all the way home.
My forefoot-racing dreams shattered and the Vibrams sent
back, I sulked for a day before consoling myself with the thought
that if I had to have randomly fat anything, fat toes probably isn’t
the worst thing to have. I could have been cursed with strangely
bulgy earlobes or obese elbows. (Although those sound like fun
- imagine earring shopping) At least my porky piggies can stay hidden
until beach weather and even then, unleashed on the sand and the
unsuspecting public they would be overshadowed by my toenails of many
colours. Underneath my nail polish of many colours.
“This little piggy went to the
sweetie shop ...”
