This Boot Is Made for Walkin’

I spent six weeks in a boot one spring. Not something stylish in leather or suitable for hiking Yosemite. It was hard plastic, thick soled, light gray, up to my mid-calf. Think Frankenstein meets Luke Skywalker footwear, with a soccer player’s shin guard for good measure. It was a walking boot prescribed by my podiatrist (a Scholl College alum, of course) to heal a stress fracture in my right foot. I had no idea what to expect. And I thrive on knowing what to expect. So, more stress. Anxiety 1, Sara 0.

The fracture was painful, but it was the boot, itself, that stressed me out the most. It really grated my cheese. Things I did without thinking, such as climbing three flights of stairs to my apartment or rounding the corner through a doorway (sorry, toes!), required advanced planning. So did driving. It was: boot on, slowly descend the stairs, get in car, boot off and sneaker on, drive, park, shoe off and boot on, out of the car, and do it all again in reverse to go home. I had to limit climbing up and down stairs, so lugging groceries was out. I love grocery shopping. The online grocer’s little green truck and brawny delivery person were a welcome sight.

It was eye-opening to me to realize how something so small and localized in a foot could affect so many other parts of life. I came to respect the boot: It was exactly what I needed to heal, and compliance paid off. If you ever find yourself in my shoes, er, boot, feel however you need to feel about it. Just keep the boot on.