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Tennis player Kathryn Weaver provides a slightly tongue-in-cheek chronicle of her successful battle with Plantar Fasciitis.

© 2003 Kathryn Weaver

I am not a doctor, but my experience with Plantar Fasciitis* qualifies me to speak with great authority on the subject. This is a journey that started in the doctor's office, almost took me to Australia and ended in a swimming pool.

I am a recreational tennis player who happens to have a heel spur the size of the Space Needle in Seattle and, having navigated a farrago of medical procedures and therapies, I found a panacea quite by accident. If you are a victim of this nasty injury, read on, because my experience could save you a lot of money and painful downtime.

PRELUDE
A physician once told me that most people who play sports will develop bony foot spurs-- some folks will just get spiny little nits while other folks will sprout ugly crampons. How these spurs protrude through the plantar fascia, that tissue that stretches from toe to heel, is what determines whether one can play for a club trophy or just play with club feet.

My problem started one morning when I stumbled out of bed and felt an insignificant pain on the bottom of my foot. “A bruised heel”, I thought, “Must have had a stone in my shoe.”  This is a common first symptom of plantar faciitis.

The pain didn’t go away. It slowly got worse. But, like any self-respecting athlete, I continued to play until one fateful day, in the middle of a big point, I started hopping and croaking like a toad on a hot grill.

THE PODIATRIST
After an emergency appointment with a well-known podiatrist, who treated Boston Celtics players with names like Kevin and Larry, I was officially diagnosed with acute plantar fasciitis. The doctor said my Seattle spur was probably 10 years in the making, and he pointed out other spurs on my xray that were waiting for their big debut.

As he taped my foot with the speed of a tire change at the Indianapolis 500, he said to return in one week, when my swollen foot looked more like a foot than a football. I was to get the BIG cordisone shot. I asked if the shot would hurt. The response was “absolutely”.

A week later, I returned, quaking in my one shoe and an adhesified mass of dirty tape for the BIG needle, which felt less like a needle and more like a a barbecue skewer with a nuclear warhead. My screams rivaled Wesley’s from the Princess Bride (you know, the Pit of Despair). The doctor said my foot would quickly get better or worse. It got worse. Thus began my marathon journey into physical therapy. This was my left foot.

My right foot followed several months later with a slightly smaller spur. I endured another cortisone shot, which was not as painful, but that was probably because I ingested several Valiums while waiting in the reception area. I continued with physical therapy and no singles play— what a drag.

THERAPY
My twice a week treatment included: whirlpool, ultrasound, deep foot massage, electro-shock, electro-phoresis (an ancient form of Chinese torture), specific exercises, stretching, more stretching, icing, and taping. I slept with a special cast on one leg that stretched my foot. I got fitted for high tech orthodics (that were baked in a toaster oven). I continued this routine for more than two years but progress was slow—for one thing, it’s hard to heal your heels when you’re walking on them all day.

I could only play doubles.

My life was consumed with foot stuff. I had bags of frozen peas in the freezer for icing. I was tripping over boxes of tape, spray cans of adhesive, that one-legged cast, and other gizmos for foot stretching in my bedroom. I had bottles of Advil in every purse. I was ready for hemlock.

TO AUSTRALIA ...
Now here comes the important part of this story (I know, you’ve been waiting patiently). To assuage a growing depression, I planned a trip to Australia. I decided that the Great Barrier Reef, among other sites, would be a good thing to see. And, although terrified at the thought, I mustered the courage to take SCUBA diving lessons through adult ed. It NEVER occurred to me what this activity might do to my feet.

THE FIN CURE
On the first night of class, the SCUBA instructor ordered everyone in the Pool with big rubber fins (not those goofy little ones your kid wears), snorkels and SCUBA gear. I spent 40 minutes undulating through the water like a giant web-footed armadillo. My feet hurt badly after the pool exercise and I thought about dropping the class, but, I didn’t. So, twice a week, my feet got s-t-r-e-t-c-h-e-d. And, that is precisely the remedy for plantar fasciitis--stretching.

After five weeks of SCUBA training in the pool, followed by four open dives in Gloucester Bay, something incredible happened…all of the pain in both my feet went away…all of it!

I continued taping my feet for a few months out of fear that the pain would return, and I wear my toaster-oven orthodics religiously. But the pain is gone and I’m playing singles again. For me, after two+ years of microscopic improvements, this was nothing short of a miracle.

Now, I’m not getting paid by the Professional Association of Diving Instructors (PADI) or the National Association of Underwater Instructors (NAUI); but I think this is a panacea worth mentioning to the many sufferers of plantar fasciitis.

Invest in some BIG FAT dorky SCUBA fins** and get moving under water. (The smaller snorkel fins don’t work, you must get fins that measure at least 20 inches from the foot pocket to the tip of the fin, and they should be the “open heel” style). Brand new, these fins will start around $85, so look for ‘used’ ones on Ebay or your local want ads.

You don’t have to take the SCUBA class (although you might find it fun). Just get in a pool (put the fins on AFTER you get in the pool) and swim for about 15 to 30 minutes. Do this a couple of times per week BEFORE the pain gets bad. Yes, your friends will laugh at you, but trust me, it beats that barbecue skewer with the cortisone warhead.

By the way, I never made it to Australia. I went back on the tennis court, and I’ve been playing pain-free and tape-free for over three years now. Five weeks of flippers is all it took.