It's not just sport that has been sacrificed due to the dodginess of my knee. Sadly, my collection of ridiculous high-heeled shoes has been not-so-well-worn of late, because my knee just can't take it. The exception I make is for weddings and for extremely important/posh dinners. The next day, I am made fully aware of the folly of that exception, but I can't resist it. There really is nothing like that masochistic pleasure in taking off your high heels after a night of dancing and feeling the burn.
An even sadder casualty has been flip-flops. Yes, the humble flip flop is no damned good for my knee - and no, not even the beloved havaiana does me any good. They are comfy on the sole, but for those of us with limited arches, they provide no blooming support whatsoever. And, despite my reluctance to embrace this, it has made a considerable difference to my knee to not wear them and so I am convinced that more support = more sport, at least.* Next year I shall have to invest in some better sandals, because my several-years-old payless ones just aren't cutting it. I've not quite sure how I shall deal with the beach, but I'll manage, I'm sure.
And in the meantime, for all things shoewise, I shall live vicariously through this wonderful lady.
* To whit, I ran 2.4 miles yesterday, my farthest for about 2.5 years, certainly outdoors. Hurrah!
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