I've never given much thought to feet and knees. When I was younger and long before bicycles, cars, trains and airplanes they were my mode of transportation.
After I was drafted, the Army took feet seriously. I read in one of the manuals that a soldier could be court-martialed for neglecting his feet. Apparently, they knew something I didn't understand – which was that your feet and knees are important.
One of my duties while in the Army in Panama was walking through swamps in the jungle to ensure thieves didn't dig up the communication cables, cut them into small lengths, and sell them for the copper. Apparently copper brought a big price even then.
So three days a week, I caught a train that wound through the jungle next to the canal, and I got off in no-mans land. I then had to walk what seemed like 20 miles to ensure there was no one out there digging up cable.
The duty didn't bother me because I loved the outdoors. During my walks, I saw exotic birds, monkeys, and gator sized Iguanas.
During those walks, my feet got wet and stayed wet for hours until I reached the end of my tour. Once I got on the train and headed for home, I always pulled my boots off. The Panamanian passengers gave me a lot of room. I didn't think my feet stank, but I'm sure they did. Rather that be a rude American soldier, I made my way to the platform on the back of the train, removed my boots, and dangled my feet off the back. By the time I made it to my station, my boots and feet were dry.
I did get some kind of fungus and ridding my feet of that was not easy.
This is probably way more information that you needed on this Friday night, but I have a point I promise.
A few years ago, my knees began to give me problems. They are OK most of the time, but when I spend too much time on concrete, they hurt. So these days, I finally understand what Uncle Sam was saying back in 1971. Take care of your feet and legs.