The first casualty of barefooting occurred last night. I was crossing a street, caught my toe on the corner of a slightly raised chunk of asphalt and ripped it open pretty seriously. Unfortunately I was getting off the bus at the location of a picnic I was going to and was planning to meet someone there so I wasn't able to just zip home quickly and deal with the problem.
Elli was busy telling me that I needed to get a bandaid... which I sure did as it was quite a bloody mess. I ended up going to emergency (hooray for Canada!) to make sure I didn't need stitches or anything else more serious but the doctor informed me that I just need to keep it clean and dry. Surprisingly given the nasty appearance it isn't especially painful.
There are many people who would decide that this event was a sufficient reason to stop going barefoot and start wearing shoes like a normal person. I am not those people. There is a little bit of "Bah, I am tough, this is barely a scratch!" going on, but mostly it is me deciding that I rolled an unlucky number in the lottery of barefooting and that I should not allow anecdotal experience to dictate my choices.
I am just a little bit amused by this timing. For the past few days I had been thinking that my barefooting project was going to be a bit of a failure blog-wise since nothing was happening. No one bothered me about it, it got a few quizzical looks and my feet and the rest of me felt good for doing it. Hardly newsworthy. Then I go and smash myself up and suddenly I have something to say again. Perhaps my feet were just itching for some more time in the limelight and getting beat up was the only way to do it. Anyone else out there have limbs that are just desperate to be the centre of attention?