Plantar Fasciitis CONQUERED!

After two weeks of rest, I went out for my test run. Two miles with two in tow. Not too bad. Heh.  

I said, "Is it good, foot? 

Foot said, "It is good."  

  Waited a few more days for the pain to return. It did not! Decided to give it another go with the two in tow. As we were approaching the logistical maelstrom of clothing/snacks/shoes/screaming/stroller, I noticed one of my tires on the double-wide jogging stroller was flat.  The little air tube thingy had slipped down into the wheel well, so I could not easily reinflate it. I went for the nearest contraption I could find to try to dig it out which happened to be a very dull pocket knife. Further searching was not an option as there were writhing tantrumming children gyrating across the yard. What happened next was just....dumb. I should have known better, and I DID know better than to use a pocket knife to try to wrestle out the air valve, but in my haste I decided to give it a go. The tire was just low, not flat. Until...I heard an unmistakable pop fizz hsssssssssss. And then it was not just low, but flat. Really Really flat. And broken. I was in such a rush to get out on the road before it got too dark (gets dark at 4pm here now), that I actually attempted tire repair with a pocket knife and popped my inner tube. 
  So  I waited a few more days until I could go out alone. In the nearby state park, most of the frenzy of autumn color has died down into the more somber palette of November. Dark russet and burnt umber replace the vibrant yellows and oranges that make the trees look like they are flaming in the twilight. 

I ran. And it was GOOD.  Aah.