Last night, I put on what I would call tennis shoes for the first time since early February. It was the first time I had had any sort of shoe on the repaired foot since it was broken. Very very strange sensation. Then I walked down the stairs to the mailbox and back (seven steps, up easier than down) and then out to the trash bins and back (maybe around 500 feet round trip).

I was puffing a bit when I got back, which is sort of upsetting since I was taking four mile walks before I fell. Three and a half months of sitting will do that, I guess. And I walk a bit like Marvin from Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, only more lopsided. But still! All that is fixable.

I’m not sure if I’m technically allowed to be doing this. When I last saw my surgeon six weeks ago to have the cast taken off, he said he’d be pleased if I wore shoes when I came back, although it was also just as fine if I was still wearing the boot. My physical therapist, on the other hand, told me two weeks ago to keep wearing the boot. I’ve been walking around the house barefoot for weeks, with constant commentary on my excellent progress from the PT. I figure I’ll wear the shoes for short excursions and the boot for longer things, and I should get a reprieve from the boot when I go in for my appointments at the end of the week anyway.

Dude. Shoes!