And lovely Mrs Spit has told me about toe caps, which sound fabulous, and which should help sort things out.
In the meantime, I’ve offered up a photo of my skanky feet to a friend who has a foot fetishist pestering her on Instagram. I also failed to have enough courage to cut holes in my shoes this morning. However, there were no further awful explosions. 7 miles, averaging at 9:22 min/mile. Muggy and grim, no meerkats, no tiger, no tapir, just some damp looking camels and a very fed up sheep.
I have earned my carrot cake.