#forefoot

[barefootwalkerguy]

Walking through the leaves in barefoot shoes - forefoot walking

Barefoot-Shoe-Walker on WordPress

[king-mom-star]

glass slipper

[lifewithchronicpain]

PSA for parents of toddlers: if your kid hates to walk and struggles to wear shoes, then get their feet checked out.

Coming from a woman who was branded a lazy kid only to be vindicated years later by severely high arches. I have even surgically corrected one of them.

Flat feet and high arches are treatable conditions but can cause a lifetime of pain if not diagnosed and addressed.

[allcarestore]

Gel Hammer Toe Cushion – All Care Stores

Gel Hammer Toe Cushion at All Care Stores can help to alleviate some of the discomfort and pain by providing cushioning support.

For more kindly visit: https://allcarestore.com/collections/foot-care

[siora-surgicals]

Ankle Fracture Plating System – Improving Live

Ankle Fracture Plating System is intended for treating broken bones in our ankle. This system is designed to accommodate different fracture patterns and provide optimal healing. Ankle implants have an anatomically contoured shape that allows good fitting over the bone. It is available in different sizes and structural configurations as required according to the type of fracture. Siora Surgicals Pvt. Ltd. is a leading manufacturer of a high-quality range of trauma implants including ankle plating systems. The company also provides OEM/contract manufacturing services across the globe.

[siorasurgical-post]

An International Standard Range of Foot and Ankle Locking Plate

As the name suggests, Foot and ankle locking plates are used for treating fractures affecting the bones in the foot and the ankle region. These locking plates are anatomically contoured and are known to keep broken bone fragments in their correct anatomy. Their locking design ensures fixed-angle fixation and this prevents any movement of the fracture fragments after surgery. They are available in different sizes and structural configurations. Siora Surgicals Pvt. Ltd. is a world-class manufacturer of a CE-certified range of trauma implants and instruments. The company supplies its products to hundreds of clients based in 50+ countries.

[eastberlin]

Just ordered jazz shoes that will hopefully fit and tide me over until I can find character shoes that fit my incredibly fucky feet (medical term) and now I've got Chicago stuck in my head (because jazz).

[footmovement]

Swift and effective forefoot pain treatment in Carlingford and Northmead. Our expert care ensures optimal foot movement for lasting relief.

[equine-altar]

That tiktok about how running on the balls of your feet is Always Better might not be objectively correct, but just learning that "forefoot" running is a legit form with its own benefits (mainly that it's easier on the legs ig?) made me feel so valid tbh

[barefootwalkerguy]

Wow! I've got like 14 followers! I'm in the double digits now!

Thanks!

Barefoot Shoe Walker

[just-a-sewer-goblin]

Baker!Johnny x gn!reader Part 3 I missed these two and their flirting. I love them so much. It's honestly a bit disheartening how little attention and love they get but I decided that I don't care. They have my heart and soul and I want to be invited to their wedding (if they ever manage to get that far). As always let me know if I messed up the readers description anywhere. Warnings: horrible flirting, Johnny being down bad. Part 2 | COD Masterlist | (Part 4)

It’s early, the night sky only just giving way to the grey morning air, preparing for the sun to rise. Johnny likes these early mornings when he gets to work in concentrated silence, gets to try what makes his creations come out best.

The bakery is not open yet, which is why Johnny is entirely unprepared for you to stick your head through the door smiling faintly while he arranges the display to his liking.

“Morning, MacTavish. I have to go in early for work but I just realized you’re not open yet. Is there any chance you have any leftovers from yesterday, that I could take to go?”

Johnny grins at the way you’re stuck at the door, evidently not wanting to come in when he’s technically not open yet. “Ye can come in, bonny. A’m not going tae bite, not unless ye ask fur it.”

At that you fully open the front door and walk up to the counter. He can’t help but whistle lowly when he sees the suit you’re wearing and you grin confidently, your hands casually hidden in the pockets of your pants. You slowly rock from your forefoot to your heels and back, eyeing the baked goods for a moment before looking at him again. “I think you have a bit of drool there, MacTavish. Looks like you’d like to bite after all.”

He can feel himself light up with the restless buzzing energy you always set free in him. Truth be told, he always has loads of energy but with you it feels like an entire swarm of bees is set loose in his body. It’s nervous and jittery and new. Very enjoyable, he decides.

Deliberately he licks his lower lips and lets his eyes rake up and down your body slowly. The suit makes your legs look even longer than usually and you have an almost regal air about you. The way your coat is casually slung over your shoulders makes him want to stride up to you and push it off, let his hands wander down your sides appreciatively and get a handful of you.

“Luckily fur ye ah have guid self-control. Unless you want me tae let go o’ it.”

You incline your head a mischievous glint in your eyes, your voice dropping slightly. “Now where would be the fun in that, pretty boy. I’d much rather watch you try to keep it together.”

The petname almost makes his knees buckle and his next breath is more a shaky sigh. Fucking hell, what are you doing to him. How can you stand there, looking so outrageously gorgeous and have the nerve to tease him?

Trying to hide his flustered state, he leans his hip against the counter and crosses his arms, trying to put his thick biceps on show for you. “A've got a batch o` yer fave pastries in the oven, they should be done in a few minutes, if ye have the time.”

Your eyes light up at that and you pretend to swoon. “You are the absolute best. What would I do without your sweets. My poor clients would have to deal with me in a grumpy mood.”

Johnny eyes your expressive face, the laugh lines around your mouth contradicting what you just said. Johnny tries to stop himself from smiling as hard as you do but he can’t. It’s too contagious.

“Dinnae fuck wi' me. Ye haven't been in a bad mood a day in yer life.”

You laughter rings out at that, melodic and beautiful, and he finds himself chuckling along. The way you throw your head back is absolutely breathtaking and it makes the coat slip off of your shoulders. Swiftly you turn and catch it before it hits the ground.

Casually you throw the coat over one shoulder, turning back to him and he swears you have to be a model on the side. There is no way that you are real and just look like that.

When you meet his eyes again he already knows that you’re going to hit him with another cheeky remark. “Look at that. Charming me right out of my clothes, MacTavish.”

He barks a sharp laugh his chest feeling light, like it’s filled with candy cotton. “Ah must be daein' a piss poor job if ye'r only losing th' jacket.”

Suddenly you’re right at the counter, so close he swears he can smell your delicious scent. Your eyes are slightly shadowed from the way you look down at him but the amused glitter in them steals his breath anyway. “Maybe if you play your cards right I’ll lose more clothes next time.”

He’s hyperventilating. Someone should call a fucking medic. Flashes of you without clothes cross his mind and he tries hard to hold onto one of those images but he can’t, they’re too vague. He needs to know what you look like under your suit. If he doesn’t get more of you he’ll die of thirst, he’s sure of it.

“Ye will nae hae tae lose them if ye let me tak' them off fur ye.” His voice is even raspier than usually but he doesn’t clear his throat. People dig the roughness and he can see something in your eyes flash for a second, though it looks more like amusement and that realization is slightly jarring, when his entire being is alight with desire for you.

“That is a privilege you’ll have to earn, pretty boy.”

The confidence makes him want to crawl to you on his hands and knees and he’s about to say that he’d do anything to earn it, when the oven beeps for his attention and you visibly perk up, the tension shattering like fragile glass.

You’re already giddy for the sweets and he can feel his heartbeat thunder in his ears. How come you’re never affected by your conversations?! What does he have to do to fluster you too? Flirt harder?

“That's mah cue. Ah don’t want tae make ye late fur work.”

Even though the disappointment of your indifference to his flirting weights heavy, it doesn’t take long for him to pack you as many pastries as you want after that and he makes sure to prepare your coffee exactly how you like it.

The smile on your face when you turn to leave is friendly but casual. No trace of the earlier flirting left and he groans as he watches you walk out, cursing your coat for covering your ass. He’s sure it looks spectacular in those well-fitting suit pants.

A loud groan of frustration tears from his throat. Luckily he’ll have another half an hour before any other customers come in. That’s enough time to calm himself down and get his heartbeat under control.

He needs a battle plan, some way he can up his flirting and make sure you know it’s not just meaningless banter with you. No he wants that every day. He wants to see you outside of his bakery, to hold your hand and feel your beautiful fingers on his skin. Maybe he should ask the guys. No he’s not that desperate. Not yet, anyway.

For now he turns to put the next batch of fresh buns in the oven.

[lifewithchronicpain]

So one symptom of high arches is the pinky toe ends up getting squished into the one next to it. Calluses and corns have formed because of it. Now I'm noticing that my surgically fixed foot doesn't do that anymore. Almost makes me want to do surgery on the right foot. Almost. It's still not as severe as the left was and I don't want to do this kind of recovery again.

[xoxoamyas]

For You.

rating : fluff/comfort, singular alcohol mention, petnames used on reader [ darling, love, and baby ]

wilbur x fem!reader [ use of you/yours, no use of y/n ]

☆ wilbur comforts you after a hard day. he plays you some in progress songs he'd been working on. <3

note : this was meant to take place sometime before ycgma came out! though, you can interpret it as whenever. either way, hope you enjoy !

request [ ☆ ]

masterlist [ ☆ ]

⋆˙⟡

You had little tells for everything. Wilbur knew them by heart.

So the second he heard the door close a little harsher than normal, he was up in an instant. He had been writing up some new lyrics for some songs he wanted to put together.

“Darling?” Wilbur lightly calls out as he moves through the short hall of the shared flat. Seeing you set down your purse on the couch in the living room, he lightly sighs. “Beautiful,” He starts, catching your attention more now. Muttering a soft apology when he sees your face screw up.

Oh, you definitely didn't have a good day if you weren't melting at the complimenting.

“Want to talk about what happened?” His voice is soft and low as he speaks, well aware you didn't take kindly to a raised voice in moments like this. A small frown tugs at his lips when he sees you shake your head no, so he just silently nods.

“That's fine, love. How about we run a bath and then go lay down?” Wilbur tilts his head a bit as his hands move to hold your upper arms. A small smile appears on his face when you nod.

He pauses when he feels one of your hands move to the hem of his sweater. Leaning down for you when you moved to be on your forefoot, pressing a kiss to Wilbur's cheek in a silent show of affection.

It takes a little bit after as you calm down, Wilbur with you nearly the entire time. He had gotten you bubbles for a bath at some point and helped you wash your hair. You weren't very talkative like you usually would have been, him having picked up on you needing the time to adjust and relax.

After a while, you finally deemed it time to get out of the bath. The water had gone cold and lost its comforting warmth. You managed to coax Wilbur into lending you one of his sweaters and even a pair of his boxers. He could never say no to the puppy eyes you tended to give him.

“You ready to talk about it?” Wilbur calmly asks after you're laid in his bed cuddled up to one of his favourite and most used pillows. He wasn't jealous over an inanimate object whatsoever.

You give a light groan, pressing your face hard into the pillow for a good long moment. Another tell that you weren't ready to talk just yet.

It's quiet for a good moment, and Wilbur bites his tongue. He's not sure what to say for what felt like an eternity. Eventually, he ended up eyeing the bedroom for a good moment before his gaze landed on his guitar.

You don't move immediately when you hear the first strums of the guitar, just hearing what sounded like a gentle tune. Each chord eased into the next, which soothed an ache in your mind. The Bm, to D, A, G, and right back into Bm.

“The cute bomber jacket you've had since sixth form,” When you hear his voice, you finally look up. Curiosity started gnawing at you as you watched Wilbur from where he sat in his streaming chair.

“Adorned with the patches of places you've been. Got nothing on my khaki coat I got from the roadside.” You can't help but let your face scrunch up as he sang. He had paused his singing. You caught the nervous glance he sent you, like he was uncertain about what he was saying and singing. His hands faltered with the glance before he looked back down at the guitar and continued strumming.

“My boots from the airport, the backpack’s my friends.” You sit up more as the words are softly sung out. A small warm feeling fills your chest as you make the sudden realization that this is a song he hadn't shared with you just yet.

You recognize the moment Wilbur seems stuck with the words, seeing him just continue to strum the chords along the guitar wordlessly.

“I haven't finished it just yet.” Wilbur admits after a moment of strumming, letting the last chord he had played ring for a second.

“I think it's really nice so far, Wil.” You give a small smile as your eyes flicker over him. “Have you been working on any others with it?” You ask out of genuine curiosity, to which Wilbur gives a slight grin.

“A couple others, yeah. Hold on.” Wilbur moves to stand from his streaming chair, moving to plop down in his spot next to you on your bed, guitar in his lap.

He had to take a second to get situated and comfortable before his hands found their spits on the guitar again. The strumming starts again, this time starting with an Am chord, to F, back to Am, and then to F again. You watch as Wilbur testingly strummed the chords, holding back a small giggle when you saw him make a face before adjusting the chords to fit together better.

Am, F, Am, F. Repeating it but instead landing on a C instead of an F interchangeably.

You watch with interest as he moves his hands in a more relaxed manner than before when he finds the rhythm he's looking for. It was almost mesmerizing, the way he played solely for you in this moment.

“Maybe one day, we'll live in La Jolla,” He starts, glancing at you as if silently seeking approval. You tilt your head in response, a notion for him to continue on.

“Drinking cocktails out over the water,” He's quiet for a second after that, trying to find out the next words he wants to say. A small soft hum could be heard from him as he tried to find the tune to keep rolling with.

“Our own personal sunset. A diploma for each day on our own.” The words are even as he says them, though the small hesitation of his hand shows he's not entirely confident with them. Either way, it made you move a tiny bit closer as you shifted. Now sitting cross-legged beside him with a hand along his knee closest to you for wordless reaffirmation.

“Shhhit, I don't know.” He eventually huffs out a humourless laugh, a frown on his face as he stops strumming the guitar.

“Hey, you did good.” You move one of your hands to cup his cheek, gently having him look towards you. “Thank you for playing what you did for me.” Your words make some of the unease melt away from his expression.

One of his hands comes up to hold along the side of your neck, and he leans in. The press of his lips against yours is careful and precise, a kiss meant to be loving and open.

Wilbur lets the kiss go when you want to, giving a small breath of air as your forehead pressed against his. “You're an amazing girlfriend, y'know that?” He asks quietly, as if scared to disrupt the peaceful moment happening between them.

“And you're an amazing boyfriend.” You murmured out in response, keeping still where you were for a moment longer before carefully moving. Taking Wilburs guitar and setting it to the side so that it rested against his bedside table. “Snuggles before bed?” You asked as you looked at him, a small pout forming as you tilted your head at him.

A small sound of surprise escapes you as he suddenly catches you off-guard when he wraps his arms around your waist. Him having dragged you closer and down onto the bed with him.

“You're so stupid,” You jokingly complained as you moved with more ease after a moment. Your head against his chest, arms wrapped around his torso and your leg thrown over his waist.

“But you just called me an amazing boyfriend.” Wilbur playfully pouts as he looks down at you. He lets out a more genuine laugh after a moment, kissing the top of your head then resting his chin along that same spot.

“I retract my statement, then.” You grumble out against him, not truly meaning your words.

“Just get some sleep, baby, we got a day ahead of us tomorrow.” Wilbur can't help but smile, loving that the two of you could at least sleep in the manner you two usually do.

“Goodnight, Wil.” You hum out, moving to hold him closer in search of the comfort he was providing you.

“Goodnight, love.”

[msburgundy]

How did you get into mininalist shoes, and which were your first pair? For me it started with addressing knee pain and plantar fasciitis symptoms, and also just wanting comfortable shoes in general

several of my friends had been talking about them and i was curious, but i had just gotten a pair of very padded shoes that were doing wonders for my knee pain so i wasn't entirely sold

especially since i have always had a forefoot striking gait anyway

and then after i started seeing a chiropractor for a couple months and realized the absolutely horrendous state my entire body was in (hard to explain but lots of restricted nerves and so i was compensating in insane ways) i was more convinced about switching

so i just got whatever the super cheap ones on amazon are to try it out, and i loved them. prior to switching i could go at most a month between chiro visits and i'd always need a significant pelvis adjustment. after switching i was able to go for 3 months between and i don't always need that adjustment anymore (i still have neck issues though rip)

my hamstring flexibility has drastically improved since my pelvis has settled back into proper alignment and i don't get lower back pain when standing at all anymore

the aforementioned knee pain is that i have a severely internally rotated knee, it was just like that when i was born

but my work around as a child was to externally rotate the hip to accommodate it

so i have a lot of instability in that left hip still as i try to reset it but having shoes that give me full use of the foot and ankle has enabled that transition to happen at all

so i cannot recommend barefoot shoes enough, if absolutely nothing else at least zero drop

after the cheapo amazon pair i went straight into looking for boots because that's what i wear 90% of the time, tried one other pair that i really liked but just didn't work for me, and then the jim greens which i adore

[siorasurgical-post]

What Are Ankle Fractures? A Quick Guide

Ankle fractures, also known as broken ankles, are one of the most frequent musculoskeletal injuries. They can range from minor inconveniences to debilitating conditions, depending on the severity of the break. Based on that, orthopedists decide whether conventional methods are ideal for the treatment or Ankle locking plate is required. This blog post will talk about ankle fractures along what they are, their causes, and treatment.

[coffee-mage-sans-caffeine]

This morning I got to go on a fun adventure called "coffee fucked their back and now has to attend physical therapy." Now, stories of 'coffee meets a medical professional outside of a work setting' are generally onerous and shitty because coffee's a fucking medical anomaly 90% of the time. But today, dear reader, there was a student physical therapist in addition to the most senior physical therapist trainer the practice has. So I started out as a good little coffee. "You should probably know that I'm borderline hypermobile, before we start." "Ah!" says the little baby physical therapist, who as yet has not developed a poker face. "We should do a beighton score before we start!" Yes, sweet baby, we should. And we did. Where I scored a 9/9 and got the very polite version of 'bitch this hypermobility ain't borderline.' So they start testing my range of motion. Currently my back pain is preventing me from doing anything that involves bending at the waist. So they ask me how I put my shoes on to come in to PT. I grab my ankle and pull my foot up to my face because my hips don't hurt and my knees don't hurt and my ankles don't hurt. So if I just pull my ankle up by my face, I can pop my shoe right on there, without flexing my lower back at all. And that's the first time the baby PT's face does this:

The senior PT nods and goes "Okay. That works." The Baby looks at the senior PT like "ARE YOU FUCKING SEEING THIS???" And the senior PT lays me back on the exam table and starts rotating my ankles and legs to see what my range of motion really is and casually says "Okay (baby PT), you should note. In this case, we need to change how we grip the leg for range of motion because if you watch here, if we pull on the ankle, it's gonna come right off." And the Baby goes "What... what do you mean 'come off?'" And quite cheerily I go "She means you'll completely pull my ankle off the joint, dislocate it. If you want to see it, you can just give it a bit more of a tug and then if you pull the forefoot straight out from my hip, it'll pop right back on, so it's fine." And the Baby goes "Uh. No? No. Please. Please don't do that. Does... Does coffee need a referral???? This looks like it needs a referral."

And the senior PT calmly goes "Well, there's nowhere to refer coffee to. I don't know any doctors that I could trust to diagnose or treat coffee, so we'll keep them in-house and look after them here. They'll probably need an EDS diagnosis as they age, depending on where they are on the hypermobility spectrum, but there's no one to send them to now, so as long as coffee continues to show good judgement and goes to a doctor when things get more painful, this is fine and normal."

The Baby PT is screaming with her whole face that this is neither fine, nor normal. The senior PT is just shrugging and reminding me that bracing is an option but not one she recommends if I have enough stability that nothing's tearing. I'm nodding along and saying 'see that's what I say but my wife freaks out about it!' The Baby PT is just like "BUT DOESN'T THIS HURT????" and I'm like "Well... yeah. Obviously my body hurts all the time, but everything doesn't hurt at once all the time, it's different things every day, so it's fine." Well guys, I think that broke her. Because she just kind of stared at the senior PT with huge eyes for the rest of my visit. I think I broke her. Which is how you win PT, right? Right??? Anyway now I have exercises for my back pain. To work on getting back range of motion.