A Blister in an Odd Place

Blog No. 148

The other day I woke up with a blister running around the back of my right heel. It runs in a relatively straight line, about a quarter inch thick, and it hurts when I walk. I’m sitting at my computer right now, so it’s not really an issue, besides, after a couple days the process (whatever it may be) has started to eliminate it (or shrink or whatever happens to blisters when you don’t pop them). I’m not a stranger to blisters. As a youth playing hockey (often using the hand-me-downs of two older brothers) I would start each season with a vast collection in many interesting spots, but never on the back of me heel (that I can remember). How my parents managed three boys in hockey at the same time, I’ll never know, but the blisters, I know very well.

This new, interesting, blister came from the same place most blisters do—overdoing it. In the time that I have believably been able to call myself a writer, I have all but eliminated my exercising. On top of that, I spend a lot more time sitting (both at work and after). For a while I was convinced that writing had to be a trade off. I had to write, so I couldn’t spend my time doing anything else (except goofing off and watching too much netflix apparently). I have far too much to do with writing, running Adventure Worlds, putting out the Zine (which is on the way) and bla, bla, bla. Who has time to go for a long walk?

Coincidentally, the very earliest beginnings of Adventure Worlds (which was the spark that started me on the writing path) was at the end of the biggest fitness push I had ever undertaken. It was late 2012 and I had been spending many months getting in shape. Starting with walking, I had advanced to running and was even doing some limited body weight exercises. A group that started small and ballooned (before collapsing onto me alone) was set to go all out with a group Halloween costume. We were all going to get into shape and dress up as heroes and villains from the DC universe. Looking back, it was far too big and not nearly organized enough to succeed. I didn’t expect it to fail so completely however. Before it fell into nothingness, I was running every day. I was in the best shape of my life, and I had spent a bunch of money and favours on making a kick-ass costume. It not happening was the excuse I needed to quit running and eat way too much junk.

Then I started writing and who has time to work out when you are trying to build a writing career? The excuses continued, along with laziness, and consumption of awful, delicious food. I would go for the occasional walk, even push for a few days in a row, then my writing would suffer (usually in conjunction with a bout of sloth) and I would have to stop. The sad part is, I do enjoy it when I do it. I put on headphones and listen to audio books or podcasts and I chug away, making blisters in interesting places. There are many lovely places to walk near where I live, including woods and paths. Plus, I genuinely feel better when I’m more active, like most people do. I even work through story issues while pounding the pavement. So why did I stop? Why don’t I just do it again? The only real answer is because it’s easier to open a tub of candy and play video games.

Over the last couple days I found a new podcast and started walking around my neighbourhood in the late evenings. The weather is cool and there are few people around in the dark. There is a loop about half a kilometre with regular streetlights that I can go around and around. So I have been. I’m not sure if my writing has suffered yet, I’m constantly struggling with it, but, other than the blisters, I’m feeling pretty good.

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