Toe Split

This past Sunday was a long dance day.  I rehearsed a modern trio with moments of hairography (love!), practiced a structured improv with a Mardi Gras twist, and attended my very first Motus Core meeting.  After that I hopped in my car and caravanned with several other ladies to the White Rabbit for a few hours of Hasenpfeffer rehearsals.  We reset two pieces, one of which I have never done, and the other one that I performed back in August (poorly).

All in all I wore a leotard for a little over seven hours straight (with a few water and slimfast bar breaks.)  My brain was slightly fried, and I may have gotten a little loopy toward the end.  Next time, I will plan my coffee consumption more wisely.

Somewhere in the middle of all the dance madness, I felt a stinging pain at the bottom of my left foot, in the space where my pinky toe attaches to the ball of my foot.  I immediately recognized this sensation as the ever annoying and deceptively painful toe split.  It has been almost a year since I have gotten one. Toe splits are caused by friction from dancing in bare feet.  The skin literally splits in two, like a torn piece of paper.  It’s only a small rip, but I am reminded of that one turn with the plié and the side curve that caused it with every step.

I know it sounds like I am complaining, but I promise I am only a little bit. I wear my toe split like a badge if bad ass-ery (if that’s a word). I danced hard and here is my proof, living in a slightly bloodied sock.

Sara L.


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