I am wearing spats. They’re made of medical tape, but spats nonetheless. I am the Scrooge McDuck of physical therapy.

It seems my knee pain is related to weak hips and inappropriately casual footwear. Apparently the rest of the homo sapiens walk on an entirely different part of their foot than I do. Weirdos. But now I’m being made to confirm to the strangeness of the species. So I’ve got about 50 feet of medical tape wrapped around each foot to alter my stride. Now to go along with my fancy footwear, I’ve got a walk like a flamingo with bunions. On top of which, I went home with directions to go for a run. Instructions which I believe were entirely for the therapist’s amusement. “See how that feels,” she said. “Just try it.”

This is roughly the equivalent of strapping unripe bananas to the arch of your foot and dashing off for a quick three-mile jog.

Wanna know what it feels like? Okay, everybody stand up. Standing? Okay, now roll your feet outwards so you’re standing on the side of your foot with the majority of your toes off the ground. Got it? Okay, now run. Go on. Run. “Run, Forest, run!”

Now if you’ll excuse me, I seem to have misplaced my top hat.