Why I am Secure in Getting the Pedicure - If it ain't broke, don't fix it

Since I started training for the Chicago Marathon, the one that later quit while I was running it, I have been getting pedicures. Why do I get them? Well, at some point, let’s say early March of 2007, I had a toenail grow in just enough to cause a slight infection in my big toe. The girl I was dating at the time suggested I get a “pedi” to prevent those in the future. Of course, there I was frequently soaking in Epsom, and all of the other things one could do to prevent an infection as such. The next time I needed them cut, I went and had one of those petite immigrants clip the nails for me.

I had just finished a ten-miler when I was in the process of getting my first “pedi.” During the treatment, she began viciously beating my calves as a massage, screaming, “these are like stones, they are like stones,” in a broken English. Of course, I was trying to find the humor in that whilst I was internally screaming from the pain of having the lactic acid beaten out of my lower leg muscle tissue.

Nevertheless, I have never ceased getting “pedis” provided the preventative maintenance with which they leave me. In short, the pedicures through my training for the Chicago Marathon kept me from ever having an infection in my big toe, near the cuticle on the side. All of that said, of course, I am writing you, as it has been probably more than six weeks since I have had one. With that, and a planned long run on Sunday, I sat there clipping my toenails. I didn’t do a great job; however, I thought I was able to get along the cuticle well enough, like I’d seen, to do the job well enough to not suffer the same pre-pedicure fate.

I had a great long run on Sunday, and I stopped at Java in the North End of Boise after my run, as I had planned, enjoying some coffee with a nice older Irish couple living in Boise since ’82. Of course, my coffee with the lovely couple kept me from soaking in Epsom straightaway as I had planned, but I thought, “my goodness, these things don’t just happen like that. What are the odds?”

There I was last night, I took the evening off provided my great run on Sunday, and I had just taken my shoes and socks off my beloved tootsies. There, looking down at my toe, I thought in great dismay, “Well you dumbass, if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.” That’s right, hindsight being what it was, I was kicking myself. There along the inside cuticle of my left toe is the redness, which looks like the beginning of infection. For nine months, I have been devoutly getting “pedis” to avoid a run-affecting toe infection, and they have worked. The one time I don’t, like clockwork, here I am again, trying to find a good doctor in Boise to diagnose, double blindly, and prescribe the appropriate treatment.

Why I say “double blind” above is due to the fact that this is too comical, it’s too Hollywood, such that I don’t want the fact that this is poetic to be reason for my being hypochondriac. Well, what can one say? I need to find a good Doctor here in Boise, and let it be for something as small as this to find a good physician. Of course, by the same token, I am kicking myself for messing with a working formula. That, of course, is why I am brand loyal to following goods: Subaru, Mizuno and Kashi. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it – rules by which to live.