calluses

I bought sandals, a glittery sequined excuse to shorn my feet of its calluses. Developed for over 12 years through Taekwondo, on hardwood gym floors, vinyl mats, body bags, hand targets, and a few opponent's body parts. I stopped into the Oriental Day Spa ... (which I've always been curious about) on Thomas circle. It was my first pedicure. The lady smiled as she took out the callous shaver and attacked my feet with it. All I could think about was how many people those size 11 gnarly feet had attacked. Good at delivering lightning quick roundhouses to the torso, back kicking fools across the room, and my favorite, swinging my leg high above my head, to bring heel-come-axe on someone's head. Usually a good technique for making my opponent cry. And now I haven't stepped into a do jang since January ... every now and then at the gym, in my apartment hallway, sometimes an empty hallway at work, I'll spring into my sparring stance, bounce bounce lightly, do the roundhouse flurry, followed by the axe, maybe a 360 round, and jump back kick. Once my neighbor's pomeranian caught me and started barking like a banshee.

I'm super proud of my feet, even when dry and cracked. Frankly I think they have a great shape, and a nice size to clobber unwitting fools with. I'm not sure how many times my instep has been broken or ankles sprained. Once or twice they've been slipped out of sandals and massaged by a former 'keeper,' and now they're lacquered, pampered, and feeling a bit naked without their hardened armor ...