Reader advisory: this post is fairly gross because
1. My feet, while quite useful, are not very attractive. I have not had a pedicure since late April, I think.
2. And when I shoot them close-up to show all their blisters and flaws, they're downright disgusting.
Consider yourself warned.
I had very few nail issues while training for Ironmother. The second toe of my right foot, as usual, was the martyr of the 10, and was constantly sore. Also, due to the fact that I've lost and regrown that puppie about, oh, 17 times at this point, the nail was thicker than a dictionary.
But 26.2 miles at the end of an already long day brought on some damage. Fortunately, I didn't feel much pain (in my feet) until after the race, but then it was all I could concentrate on: a huge blister under my left big toenail, a few smaller blisters on other feet, and on Mr. Purple Martyr, a blister under the nail, a blister around the nail, and a very angry nail to boot.
It took me a few days before I could even think about touching them to relieve the pressure. But my kids, not exactly feathers, seemed to be stomping on my flip-flopped feet more than usual, and I was not very nice to them when they did. So I popped all the blisters that were not under a nail bed, and there was excessive launching of liquid. Since this is a gross post, I'll just spill all the details: I popped one on Tuesday night. Total geyser. It was still sore, so I went at it again on Wednesday night. Mini-geyser. I think I lost a pound just with that one.
And then it was time to get serious. Here's how I popped my under-nail blisters.
Also: you may not be able to tell from this pic, but I had *serious* cankles and fat feet after the race for about 10 days. I slept with 110% calf sleeves on, but that didn't help my feet, which felt as wide as they are long. Serious dinner rolls. I couldn't hack the socks because my toenails hurt so much—way too much pressure on them. I tried to keep my feet up as much as possible, but I sleep on my side and this mother thing kept getting in the way...anyway, I digress.
I poked around a little under Mr. PM, but I couldn't find any relief, so let him just keep throbbing. Plus, that little procedure was enough for one night for me.
Two days later, I was at my Mom's house, where I took a bath. (I barely fit in the bathtub at my house; I use it only for ice baths, when I'm going to be uncomfortable anyway. When I win the lottery, we're doing a total bathroom remodel so I can have a large tub where I can actually straighten my legs and recline just slightly.) I sat in there for quite some time with both feet submerged, and then, of course, I had to inspect my feet. I realized I could just rip the horse hoof on Mr. PM right off, so I did. Little to no pain with that situation and, fortunately, I decided not to photograph it for you.
And that, dear readers, concludes this tour through my Ironmother toenails.
Now you tell us: what do you do when you have a blister or other issue? Do you dig in yourself?