Because Katie Holmes Did It

Yesterday, I went to my first visit to the podiatrist. A little history - I had barely started my marathon training when I started experiencing pain in my knees (primarily my left one). Mind you, I hadn't laced my running shoes in two years, so I thought that my knees were simply protesting their re-introduction to the pavement. So, I took a week off, but no more than a mile into my run, I had the same pain. The next morning, I went down to the local running shoe store and had the owner take a look at my shoes and my feet. The prognosis was that while the commercial inserts were fine for me two years ago, pregnancy had changed my body just enough that I was now a prime candidate for custom orthotics. Anyway, that was how I found myself in the podiatrist’s office yesterday morning.

If none of you have ever been to a podiatrist before, let me fill you in on a couple of secrets. Ladies, these tips are for you, gentlemen, skip to the next paragraph. First, I don't recommend wearing a skirt. As soon as I entered the examination room, the nurse instructed me to sit in the hydraulic chair, which she promptly elevated by about 3 feet. The result of this elevation was that my feet would be about at chest level of the doctor when he was sitting in front of me. Crossing my legs wasn't an option, so as casually as I could; I wedged both of my hands between my knees to spare us both the embarrassment. Moving on to my second lesson, I recommend getting a pedicure. I had not and I instantly regretted it because I had about 15 minutes to stare at my own feet prior to the doctor's arrival and let me tell you, it wasn't pretty.

When the doctor finally entered, I was surprised to see that he looked to be around his mid-30s. I was trying to play it smooth even though I was sufficiently flustered by my wardrobe choice and my dry, unkempt feet. We started making small talk while he did his podiatry thing when I mentioned that I was training for a marathon. He asked me what my motivation was and before I knew it, "because Katie Holmes did" came flying out of my mouth. As he stared at me in puzzlement, I realized how stupid that must have sounded. Unfortunately, when I get nervous, I lose the marginal filter that's usually in place between my thoughts and my mouth and I just started talking. "Well," I said, "Oprah ran one, too. I mean, if Katie Holmes and Oprah can do it.... I know that 26 miles is far, but I've gone through childbirth and let me tell you, that was something else." Oh Lord, this was going downhill fast. Fearing that he thought me a total idiot, I decided to switch gears. "I have a Ph.D. and a training plan, so as long as my feet cooperate (insert nervous laugh) I'm ready to go." I decided that he probably thought I was medicated, so I clamped my mouth shut, let him take a fiberglass mold of my feet and I ran out of there as fast as my skirt-clad legs would take me. Feeling relieved that my podiatrist isn't on my regular rotation of doctors, I started to head out the door when he called out, "I'll see you in a few weeks for your orthotics fitting." Well, the good news is that while I can't guarantee that I won't say anything completely moronic at my next visit, at least I'll have the chance to come back with a pedicure and wearing shorts.