Don't Complain To Me About Blisters

The worst day in my parents' lives was the day I was diagnosed with diabetes. Or so they've told me. Close to that would have been the day long term nerve damage was discovered in my feet.

I remember my six monthly visit to the specialist quite vividly. The doctor, the room, it was a different part of the hospital, my dad sitting beside me...even my "poo brown" and khaki school uniform. It's the mood of it that I remember most of all. I hated my relationship with my parents for a long time because of the shame their reactions, to what were essentially my "character flaws", made me feel. Grade three to eight were the most miserable of my life and it turns out this day was a watershed moment.

My parents weren't able to control my diabetes themselves by the time I'd hit grade three because I was pinching extra food and not telling them, so they put the responsibility onto me. I had full control and they asked for verbal and occasionally written results and feedback. I had a knack for numbers and they knew I was smart enough to play the numbers game that diabetes is. Over time, my immaturity and laziness had overcome my own control of my diabetes leading to that day.

My average blood sugar level for the previous three months had been dangerously high.

The doctor needed to do a few exercises. One was to test the nerve endings in my foot. I had to close my eyes so that he could run a cotton ball over the top of my foot to see if I could feel it (similar to the following video).

I could only feel it half of the time.

This is called Neuropathy. This is what I could look forward to if I didn't immediately fix things (and I am forever susceptible).

A triathlete's feet are two of the most stressed parts of their bodies. Not wearing socks when you race tear your feet up with blisters regularly. Overtraining can easily lead to stress fractures amongst other things.

Not having feet that are fully functional would stop any dreams I have in the sport.

This last few months I have been fighting off plantar fasciitis. Through excellent management by my Physio "team" and daily self treatment, I have been able to prevent it from becoming more than a minor restraint from large volumes of running and only minor losses of speed. Of course, strictly maintaining good blood sugar levels is crucial to optimal recovery too.

Last weekend when I raced, I forgot to strap my right foot. If I don't strap it, the sole of my foot, where I strike blisters badly.  I was once racing the Noosa Bolt, which has the biggest crowd for a running race in Australia apart from perhaps the the City to Surf. Not even 2k into the 5k race, I felt my foot tear open and spent every second step of the rest of the race in agony. This was the aftermath:

Last year I copped a bit of flak at work for having to take a day off due to blistering. I don't think there was any appreciation for the fact that the severe blistering I had on my feet after the World Championships in Auckland had become infected. Simply walking from the bedroom to the kitchen was causing my feet to swell to the point they didn't even fit into shoes anymore.

I have a very thick skin, but when it's assumed I am faking my diabetic problems it cuts me deeply. I don't ask for any extra respect because I'm diabetic, in fact I don't like it. It does irritate me though when the fact that I do have diabetes and despite how strong and capable I am, sometimes I do need help or at least patience is ignored.

So to the damage report from last weekend's race. By Tuesday I was able to cut away the bulk of the torn, blistered skin that had by then hardened almost like a callus. It split a little bit by Thursday, but I've been able to take care of this with ointment.

I've been lucky and haven't missed a stride ;) this week because of it, but I am very nervous about their fate. Put it this way, if I looked after myself as poorly as I did when I was in grade five, my blistering feet would always be infected and I would take a year to recover from plantar fasciitis.