At the end of 2009, I had to buy new steel toed boots for work. I threw out the average size that I have been wearing most of my adult life, 10 1/2. Nothing was fitting. We measured my foot and it came out to 11 1/2. I wound up buying a couple pairs of steel toes that felt like I was wearing a warehouse on each foot; a little disconcerting at first. Then denial took over and I went about my day to day not thinking much about it. I continued my barefoot training mostly inside on the treadmill and spent my days at work comfortably wearing a couple of warehouses on my feet.
My attention was brought back to my foot size this past weekend. My wife and I were going to a fancy Valentine dinner ball, which meant I had to steal my red Chuck Taylor Converse high tops back from my son, because nothing says chic like wearing some nice threads and using the Chucks as conversational garnish.
As we set out on the trip, I noticed my feet were cold, and my toes were squished up in the toe box. It took me a good hour to realize that these shoes didn’t fit anymore. Denial was sure imposing itself over comfort. We stopped at a store and bought a new pair. Sure enough, one size bigger. Foot freedom has allowed my feet to healthily expand out to their true proportions. I know I used to bind them into my running shoes like a couple of swaddled, cradle boarded babes. Freedom is good. Now if that thing about body parts in relation to foot size is true I’ll be very happy.
Your last sentence stole my comment!
Well, that just means great minds think alike. Thanks for reading.