During the hike up King's Peak (wild bachelor party, I know), I was a lithe gecko gliding up the trail. When going down, though, I trudged too hard, too long in thin-soled shoes. Should we stop? I kept asking myself. No, we're almost there, and the guys pine for Subway.
To the mauling my poor footbones received that day, concatenate a wedding and two weeks of hoofing around China. The pain worsened the more time I spent on my feet. I had ironically just started a Beeminder for spending more time on my feet, thinking that I'd be healthy and use one of the standing desks.
It's been two months, and every time I push it, pain pushes back. I suppose I'll just have to rest longer. Now I'm attempting to see how little I can stand. Sometimes I can spend less than half an hour on my feet in a day.
I might be more susceptible to stress fractures having previously injured my feet last summer running a half marathon way too fast on only two months of training. From my book: "My right foot was a smoldering chorizo mash, and my left foot was an adorable Angora rabbit with all its bones replaced by thorns. ... I could hardly walk for four days, and it was another week before I could make the half mile to the grocery store to buy food, so I was living on meat sticks, dark chocolate, and tinned oysters for six days. It was twelve days before my left foot stopped hurting when standing." Yes, this is familiar.
My best guess: stress fractures.