He took my foot in his hands, pressed it with both thumbs and said, "If I press here, does it hurt?" I shook my head and noticed he was still looking at my foot. "No," I said quickly.

"How about here?"
"No."
"Here?"
"No."
"If I press all the way up this vein?"
"No... no... no."

This went on until podiatrist thumbprints covered my entire foot. With every push and poke, I felt increasingly bad for not experiencing any piercing pain. It was as if I was letting him down. Taking my heel in one hand and my toes in the other, he said, "I'm going to move your foot in ways that may be uncomfortable or you're not used to, okay?" I wasn't really in a position to disagree with a rhetorical question.

"Okay, here we go. Tell me if you feel any sharp pain." He swiveled my foot from side to side. I felt nothing out of the ordinary. Pivot. Lift. Turn. Twist. Lower. Bend. Still nothing. Extreme worry and doubt set in. What was going on? Had I only imagined the soreness and tingling in my foot all of these weeks? Was it stress-related? Psychosomatic?

The doctor paused for a moment and then gently put my foot down. He instructed me to take off my other boot and sock, go out to the corridor and walk up and down the cold tile hallway. With somebody intently watching me, walking became ten times more difficult. I must have exhibited the grace of Frankenstein's monster.

We reentered the exam room and as I sat down, he took one more look at the x-rays. "Based on what I've seen and the words you've used, I would say gobble gobble..." He talked in medicalspeak as he listed his determinations from the examination. Since he hadn't detected any loss of movement, strength or feeling in my foot, he concluded that it was a case of inflammation.

"I can prescribe you an anti-inflammatory other than Motrin or give you a cortisone injection. Both will lessen the annoyance factor. Despite the medication, your foot will heal on its own, but it'll be a slow process, taking anywhere between three to six months to fully heal."

The doctor recommended not running for another month or two. I had already taken a month off in the hopes of seeing some improvement. Completing a marathon will have to wait. I've known for a few weeks now and have been down about it, but I tell myself that it's only a postponement.

I left the hospital relieved. The situation wasn't as bad as I feared. It's temporary and fixable and that eases my mind. The podiatrist also said that I could still hike, which is good news. It means my weekend plans are intact.