Toes, trauma, fire truck |

Toes, trauma, fire truck

Compiled by Allen R. Smith

I met Mona on the first day of her three-day lesson series. After going over some of the basics, Mona asked, “Should my boots hurt?” I replied they should be snug and probably not feel as comfortable as her street shoes, but no, they should not hurt. She thought about it for a moment and then suggested that we continue with the lesson.Thirty minutes later, Mona complained about her feet again. I ran down the usual list of questions: “How many pairs of socks do you have on?” “Do you have pants with stirrups that go inside of your boots?” “Do you have your buckles fastened too tightly?” Nothing seemed to pinpoint the problem, so we continued.By lunch, I could tell by the grimace on her face that she was in serious pain. Her chief complaint was that the toes on her right foot were killing her. We walked upstairs to the restaurant and discussed what we could do to get her through the remainder of the day.Finding a table, Mona sat down and unbuckled her boots. I pulled off the offending right boot, picked it up and turned it over so that I could pull out the liner. As I turned the boot over, a small, toy fire truck fell out.Apparently, the night before, Mona’s 6-year-old son, Nathan, had used her boot as a “fire station” and had parked his fire truck in the toe of her ski boot.The truck was reassigned to another firehouse and Mona enjoyed the rest of the day skiing, pain-free.- AnonymousClickety clackFrom 30 yards away, I watched Paul while he painfully collected his equipment. Bending over to gather his poles, shuffling to the ski rack, every move was excruciating.Recognizing that I had arrived to teach his class of “never-evers,” Paul approached me with a tortured look on his face. “Are we going to have to walk very much in these boots,” he asked. I explained that while most of the day we would be on skis, there were occasions when we would have to climb up to the gondola or walk to lunch. Concerned with the grimace on his face, I asked him why. “Well, I’ve really been looking forward to skiing,” he said. “All of my brothers ski, my girlfriend skis, but I just don’t know if I can keep putting up with this clickety clack.”Looking down at his boots, he had them on the wrong feet, causing his buckles to rub against each other. Clickety clack.- Joseph Bouchard, VailVail, Colorado

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