I Am: Mike’s Big Toe


I am Mike’s dislocated big toe (no seriously, I dislocated it about a month ago). Mike owes me a pretty big thank you if you ask me. Why? Because I’m the main reason his ass doesn’t end up on the ground everytime someone in line at Crispy Creme bumps their gut into him. Sure, I’ve got four other “little piggies” to assist me when Mike wants to give someone a swift boot to the rear, but I’m still the heavy hitter. I’m the work horse when it comes to controlling this big guy (Thankfully it’s a lot less weight since he was in high school).

I’m not alone in feeling this way. Think about your big toes. You probably haven’t done this in a while, besides when slamming them into a wall or door. A lot of my friends tend to get out of line, and go a little wild sometimes. I call these guys “fun-ions” but most people call them bunions. It’s not their fault, it’s in their genes to get a little crazy. Even though I get to hang out all day with my four other friends, sometimes I can get stuck in a rut, you know, lose a little mobility. Mike’s other dear friend, his knee, hates when I do this.

But I digress. When it comes to keeping Mike balanced and centered, I’m the man (unless you’re talking mental balance, then caffeine takes the reins). Every step Mike takes crosses my path. I’m the “gait” keeper of normal gait mechanics (what a pun!). If I’m not on board, then no one gets on board; Mike’s knees, hips, and back don’t stand a chance.

Do me a favor. Stand up (yeah, I know you’re sitting). Stand on one foot with all of your toes on the ground. Now, really concentrate on your big toe. Feel how much pressure is actually being put on this toe. It’s a lot.

Mike has come to find out over the past month truly how important I am. I’m pretty fricken important. I am Mike’s big toe and I keep him on his feet.

Always Evolve,

Mike

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