Flashback Friday- Feet

Brain, I've decided we could do with some themes around here. Flashback Fridays are sort of obvious and, yes, overused by radio stations, but it works so why mess with a time tested thing? I also plan to dice it up a bit with; Why Dont We Wednsdays, Terrible Tuesdays, and Movie Mondays. So here, in the first of our Flashback Fridays, I remember feet. Bare feet to be more specific.

I think every kid likes going barefoot, but I liked it even more than most. I was always obsessed with taking my shoes off. I think this is because my parents had me out hiking at an early age, stuffing my tiny tootsies into big clunky hiking boots and scratchy wool hiking socks. If we were lucky the hike would be past a creek and we would get to stop and rest, take the horrible boots and socks off, and put our feet in the water to wade.

My parents were always trying to get me to put my shoes back on, which, of course, only strengthened my desire to have them OFF. By the time I was a teenager I was sneaking out of the house at night to meet my friends, barefoot, walking miles down long stretches of desert roads to hang out with boys we weren't supposed to see, and smoke cigarettes we weren't supposed to smoke. The dog would run loose ahead of us, occasionally discovering a rattlesnake warming itself on the road. We could tell by the way the dog would jump straight up in the air there was snake and we'd walk a big circle around it. Once when we had walked nearly twelve miles in one night, my friend shared her shoes with me because my feet were too sore to get home on. We each wore one shoe and hobbled, then switched shoes and hobbled some more, going on like that until we finally made it back just as the sun was coming up. I guess you could say that was a gesture of purest friendship on M."s part, but really, I think she was just afraid we wouldn't make it home in time and then we'd both be busted.

The barefoot battle between my parents and I raged throughout my life, finally culminating when my parents came to college for my graduation and were horrified to discover that I went to class, to meals, to the library, to work and absolutely EVERYWHERE else, barefoot. We had a stormy session in which they threatened not to attend my graduation if I was sans footwear. After a big blowout argument I gave in and wore shoes to get my diploma. Of course as soon as I was on my own again I went everywhere barefoot. I was, pure and simple, addicted to the feeling of texture under my feet. I was addicted to the freedom to wiggle my toes. While it was illegal to drive without shoes in AZ, I once showed up at an insurance office to renew my car insurance, barefoot. Of course I drove everywhere barefoot, I didn't really know if I could drive in shoes. I usually had a pair of flimsy foot flops under the seat that I could slide on in emergencies, but somehow, this time I'd left them at home. It much too far to drive back across town to get shoes so I slunk into the insurance office, grabbed the nearest chair, and kept my feet tucked under the desk out of sight the whole time I was filling out forms.

I hiked canyons barefoot, rode horses barefoot, played soccer barefoot, went grocery shopping barefoot. It seems a bit... eccentric even to me now, but that's because I've lived eleven years in the south where going barefoot is a crime so terrible it is second only to saying you hate Jesus. In the south there was no way to rebel against the constant barrage of people telling you to put shoes on. Shop keepers chased you out of stores, strangers tried to step on your feet, little old men chased you, scolding. It was my parents times 50. I gave in and wore more shoes, but when I was hiking alone I would usually pull them off and revel in the feeling of sand and earth under my toes again.

I thought that this insane compulsion to go mit out shoozen was just another facet of my self destructively stubborn personality (I liked what I liked and I KNEW what I liked and I DIDN'T like other people telling me what to do), but it turns out that people who go barefoot are actually healthier than people who wear shoes all the time. If you are interested in the research behind that claim, check out Christopher McDougall's bestselling book Born To Run. While you are at it google barefoot running and see how many sites come up full of people promoting shoelessness. I thought I was a lone, crazy, stubborn, barefoot freak, but it turns out there are tons of freaks like me who just don't like confining their paws in stuffy old shoes. I love the internet!

Buoyed by my discovery that I am part of a society I never knew existed, I have begun to go barefoot again as much as possible. While I may never actually walk into a groccery store without shoes, I will certainly be taking my dog for a walk every evening enjoying the feel of the asphalt as it cools. When I'm on vacation I'm going to be exploring barefoot; wooden fishing piers, granite boulders under crystal cold snow melt streams, soft, grassy meadows, and sandy hiking trails. As for driving.. well I never did learn how to drive in shoes.