Our feet carry a greater weight than any that we intend them. The incredible structures bear the weight of all our burdens. The pains, sorrows, joys and frustrations that we hold in our hearts and in our heads, the sleepless nights, the excitement of a new day, of the one you love, a late nite out, and early morning run, a mud puddle – all are exposed in our calluses and toes.  Our feet carry the weight of our souls.

Feet are an odd, sort of a strangely beautiful item on the human frame. They are a means by which we can be deciphered from other mammals who lack the ability of upright mobility. Feet are our anchors and our gas pedals simultaneously. We are held up and brought forwards by these funny looking bones and flesh. To necessary to be ugly, to abused to be delicate and beautiful. Their beauty lies in their utility, it is here, as it often is in people, that we find comfort in predictability, tenaciousness, and practicality. Feet are our access to the world and to each other. Without the ability to stand and maintain balance, we in fact, would be not much beyond the realm of gorillas. Though, given the complexities that exist as a result of our ability to so easily run, mingle and hide, the gorilla may have a better grip on social life than we could hope.

None the less, though my feet are not my favorite feature, as divulged, that is my legs, they are small, and rather cute. Though there are calluses to scrub and my toes need new red paint, the general concept of my feet is some what appealing, as far as feet go that is.

My toes curl terribly, not form love, though they have, but from running mostly. General abuse. And since running has also deteriorated my knees, my feet bare the additional burden of aiding my poor knees, and my heavy heart.

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