Be Someone Other Than Me? Heel No! -- How an Injury can Change Your Perspective

Vanity, thy name is Victoria. It has taken a minor injury for me to realize this, but I have come to grips with the fact that from this point forward, I must embrace the fact that I am not tall, and I never will be. If you ask anyone in my family what I wanted to be when I was little, they would tell you, "older, and taller." I always wanted to be 5'7", just like my Aunt Vicki, for whom I was named. Because I don't quite top 5'4" on my best posture days, I've achieved my dream of height for years with a series of ever-skyward-reaching heels -- boots, wedges, stilettos, pumps, peeptoes: You name it, I've worn it. My collection of heels is quite literally staggering, and most of them see me boosted to about 5'9," rivaling Coach B in height. 

These are some of my favorites. None of them is under 4 inches in height. In the foreground is the collection of medication and muscle rubs that now keep my foot from feeling like it's on fire.

On Wednesday, however, I was brought back down to Earth. While walking down the three flights of stairs we have at work, I felt a super sharp pain on the ball of my right foot. It was so noticeable and nagging that I ended up taking off my 4-inch boots for the night and scuffing around in my socks. I propped my foot up on an overturned U.S. Mail tub for the remainder of the shift, and then hobbled down the stairs and headed home, where I promptly put on my older pair of Virratas. I iced my foot down in bed and researched just what in the world I might have done to myself. 

My beautiful Virratas.

Well, the upshot is that the pain I was feeling was likely something I had actually caused myself. After a weekend of dancing in high wedge sandals and pounding the pavement, too, during my daily runs, I've developed a spot of metatarsalgia. This is a fancy name for  pain and inflammation in the ball of your foot.   According to the Mayo Clinic,  pretty much anyone can develop metatarsalgia, though there are some higher risk factors. Lucky me: I fit into several of them. 

You are at higher risk if you:

• Participate in high-impact sports. Metatarsalgia is more likely to occur if you're a runner or you participate in sports that involve running or jumping, such as soccer, tennis, baseball, football or basketball. 
• Wear high heels or shoes that don't fit properly. High heels transfer extra weight onto the front of the foot, and shoes that are too tight can compress the toes.
• Are overweight. Extra pounds put more pressure on the metatarsals.
• Have other foot problems. Certain foot shapes — such as high arches, a long second toe or unusually long metatarsals — can contribute to metatarsalgia. These conditions can cause pain and inflammation that change the way a person walks and the distribution of weight in the feet.

Sorry Meatloaf: Two out of three are actually pretty bad, and three out of four are even worse, in this case. I obviously participate in a sport that involves running, I wear high heels, and I have freakishly long (but aesthetically beautiful) second toes. 

I had to make a decision: What can I control out of these three things? Well, I'm not going to stop running (hello, I'm nearly in the middle of a 39-day streak here!), and I'm not going to have surgery to reduce the length of my second toe (though people actually do that, as well as have surgery to remove their toenails. No joke.). 

(Black toenails lurk beneath. But, I'm not having them surgically removed.)

I hate to do this, but it's been a long time in coming. I can't keep doing this to myself. It's not you, really; it's me. And, this will hurt me way more than it will hurt you. But my decision is final. Good-bye high heels. So long, reaching things on top shelves. Farewell illusion of long, shapely legs and slightly more proportional hips and rear. 

We just can't keep causing each other pain...farewell, my lovelies.

But you know what? It's OK. Really. I'm petite. I'm short. I have a long torso and not-so-long legs. I'm vertically challenged. I'm a shrimp. I'm fun-sized. I'm not going to be asked, "How's the weather up there?" (Someone might ask me to tie their shoes, however.) 

Just me. In a pig hat. With viking braids. 

The older I get, the more comfortable I am with myself, just as myself -- not some idea of who I should be or what someone else's idea of what "pretty" is. If I'm healthy -- I'm  happy. If I'm strong -- I'm pretty. If I have friends and family -- I'm fulfilled. And if I'm comfortable being on the short side (really, I'm probably absolutely average height) AND I can continue to do what I love (run and run and run) injury-free, well, that sounds like the right thing to do.  So if you see me in a  non-running setting and think that I look shorter, I'm not, really. I'm just little ol' me. Just don't ask me to tie your shoes. 

Be kind to yourself. Be kind to each other. (Be kind to your feet!!!) -- V.