I will not be "de-feeted"

Ask any one of my children about a negative childhood memory, and they will come up with plenty. Like eyewitnesses to a crime, however, their recollections will vary as will the importance that they assign to each memory. If there is any consensus it's that none of them view with fondness the number of times I waved my feet at them and said'"please...", the nightly ritual of me begging for a foot rub and them averting their eyes, listing homework that needed to be done, and finally one of them negotiating a deal. Yes, sometimes when all else failed, I paid my children to rub my feet.

I don't remember a time when my feet didn't hurt. My children's father, my first husband was a gem and rubbed my feet almost everynight-I wasn't able to keep that in the divorce settlement.... So the chore fell to the girls and like I mentioned, it could be hit and miss with them (although their memories probably indicate otherwise).

My love of over 18 years, my second and last husband falls somewhere in between. Sometimes he unsolicitedly sits down, grabs some lotion and provides an hour of foot rubbing bliss. Other times he averts his eyes, fakes sleep, or negotiates a deal. Yes, sometimes I pay my husband to rub my feet.

So now that I am training for this bucket list event in Athens, I have needed foot attention more than ever. I did my part-I went to the podiatrist who looked at the X-rays and said, "Whoa, these are some messed up feet!" or something kind of like that. I convinced him that I was open to anything shy of amputation after the race if he would slap a band-aid on them for now. The band-aid turned out to be orthotics and Aleve, not too bad a combination really. But a bandaid only sticks so long; my feet are in agony after anything after 10 miles.

My daughter Sara has described one solution to the foot massage dilemma. I think I'll play the "I'm older and have more insurance" card-remember Kathy Bates in Fried Green Tomatoes? Starting tomorrow, I'm checking out the foot massage (really they exist!) parlors in my town. Let's hope they take Blue Cross!