Saturday 18 January 2014

The Wrong Socks!

No it's not the title of the next Nick Park animated adventures of Wallace and Grommit. However, I dare say Wallace would be tutting and shaking his head at the obscene amount of money I spent on a pair of socks that have given me the biggest blisters ever. Just before Christmas I bought a pair of Seal Skinz waterproof running socks, which set me back £25. That is £25 for one pair of socks! I bought them to keep my feet warm and dry when training early in the morning throughout the winter. To this end they have performed marvellously. When I bought them I was told that they should perform well as a running sock, as they are made up of three layers of material, which should help reduce blisters. Prior to this morning I have only used them for short runs, and they have been fine. I had contemplated using them at last weekend's cross country marathon (which I didn't), and also for the upcoming Pilgrim Challenge on the North Downs Way, which consists of 66 miles of potentially very wet and muddy running over two days. I decided it would be prudent to test them on a long training run, so this morning I went for a 21 mile trail run along the Roman Road to Linton. I was aware that my feet were starting to rub on the return leg of the run, and by the time I got home I had three blisters on my toes, which I have named Mini Monster, Terrible Terry and Bastard Bob. 

If I only had Mini Monster I could probably carry on just fine, we could probably learn to live with one another. He's a bit of a nuisance but I don't think he would stop me from doing anything that I wanted to do and I suspect he will have a short life span. He's residing on the little toe of my left foot. Terrible Tony is on the big toe on my right foot and slightly on the underside. I feel him every time I put my foot down, and this is after popping him, draining the fluid and covering him with a blister plaster. He was a reasonably large blister, but not as large or anywhere near as angry as Bastard Bob, who took up residence of my little toe on my right foot. Bastard Bob was bigger than the toe he was on, and I think he was hoping to take over my whole foot. I contemplated taking a photo of my feet invaders but decided that that would be unnecessarily gratuitous. And I didn't want to put anyone off their tea. Bastard Bob was also lanced and his remains were buried under a blister plaster, but he is still causing considerable pain in his after life, like a zombie blister. 

Tomorrow I am going to Royston Heath with the Sweaty Betties and a couple of Jogging Jims (they will probably find that nickname a little patronising, I'll have to see if I can come up with something a little more butch). I really hope my blisters don't curtail my run tomorrow. This was supposed to be my double long run weekend, but I have already cut short tomorrow's run to 12 miles from a planned 18 miles. I'll try to convince myself that 12 miles on Royston Heath is like 18 miles on the flat, and all will be fine.

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