Plantar fasciitis · Heel pain · First steps in the morning
You were told to roll it. The frozen bottle, the golf ball, harder every night. The harder you press on a heel that is already guarding, the tighter the whole line holds. This program is gentle work on the holding itself, with your hands, a rolled hand towel and a wall. Your phone guides you step by step. The sore spot on your heel is never pressed, rolled or stood on.
Written by Sylvie, a Clinical Neuromuscular Therapist
You feel it before your foot is even on the floor.
You know what's coming, so you reach for the shoes you keep by the bed. You never step down barefoot anymore. Then the first step. It's like stepping on a stone, right under your heel. Some mornings it's more like glass.
You walk to the bathroom on your toes, one hand on the wall. Somebody watching would think you'd just hurt yourself. You didn't. This is just the morning now.
After a few minutes of walking it eases. By the time the coffee is made, you could almost forget it.
Then you sit down. At 11am you stand up from your desk, and your heel catches again, as if it had to start the whole morning over. Getting out of the car, it's the same. You stand, wait a moment, then take the first few steps carefully, like testing ice.
By 6pm, after a day on hard floors, your heel throbs. You sit with your foot up and roll it over whatever is nearby.
The rest of you is in on it. Your calves, tight as cords. Your toes, gripping the floor without your asking. Your other foot, taking more than its share. The knee and the hip on that side, starting to complain too.
The evening walk with your friend stopped a while ago. You said it was the weather.
At the store you look for the bench before you look for the bread.
On Saturday there was a day out with a lot of walking in it. You did the math first. You know what the next morning costs. You said no.
You've tried to fix it, and you gave each thing a real chance.
You rolled a frozen water bottle under your foot every night, and a golf ball under your desk. You bought insoles, then new shoes, then better shoes. You slept in a night splint, or tried to. You did the calf stretches from a printed sheet, leaning on the wall until it burned. You iced it, rested it, and took painkillers on the bad days. You could add up what all of it has cost you by now. You'd rather not.
Each one helped for a little while. Then the first steps hurt again.
Here's the part you don't say out loud. You're not really scared of the pain. You're scared that it's permanent. Maybe a doctor called it plantar fasciitis and told you it can take a year. A year of mornings like this. Without anyone telling you to, you've already started leaving things out, one at a time.
Look at that list of things you tried again. It isn't a list of your failures. Every one of them worked on the sore spot, by freezing it, pressing it, padding it, stretching it or resting it, and none of it lasted. When that many fixes fade the same way, they are pointing to the same answer.
The sore spot is not the whole story.
Your heel is the loud end of a long line. The sole of your foot, your heel, the back of your ankle and your calf are one continuous run of tissue. A calf that holds tight pulls on your heel with every step you take.
And that line is braced, the way you tense up when you expect to be hit. Your nervous system braces you to keep you safe. A foot that has hurt for months learns to guard. Your calf stays tight, your toes grip, and you walk as if the ground might bite.
Fascia is the thin web of tissue that wraps your muscles, from your scalp to the soles of your feet. On the sole of your foot it thickens into a strong band, the plantar fascia, that runs from your heel to your toes. When you stay braced for a long time, the web around it stiffens to match. Think of a hand you've kept in a fist all day. It isn't injured, but it's stiff, and it takes a while to open again.
That's why the first step is the worst one. All night, and all through a long sit, the line sets. Then you stand, and your heel takes the pull all at once.
It also explains why the bottle and the golf ball wore off by morning, why the stretch only lasted while you held it, why the insoles moved the pain around without ending it, and why rest helped right up until the first step.
It also means you aren't stuck waiting. A heel can be sore and still be held tighter than it needs to be. The holding is something your body is doing right now, and that can change. You don't have to take that on faith. Further down this page there's a 90-second test you can try at your own wall.
You can't force it to change, though. Pressing harder, pulling harder and standing on it harder is what most of that list had in common.
The rest of this page shows you how to change it without force. You'll see what the research found, learn the method, and meet the person behind it. You'll see why it starts at your hands and your calves when it's your heel that hurts. Then you'll see exactly what four weeks of this asks of you.
The research caught up
In anatomy labs, the thin white layer that wraps every muscle was cut away and set aside, to get a clear view of the muscle underneath. People called it packing material. Then researchers took a closer look, and asked two questions: what is fascia made of, and what controls how stiff it gets?
Prof. Carla Stecco
University of Padua · orthopedic surgeon and anatomist
Stecco spent years dissecting unembalmed bodies to map fascia layer by layer, and published it as a full atlas. She found the tissue is rich in nerve endings, the kind that sense pressure, stretch and position. On this evidence, fascia is one of the body's sensing organs, not just the wrapping around them.
Stecco, Functional Atlas of the Human Fascial System, Churchill Livingstone / Elsevier, 2015
Dr. Robert Schleip
Fascia Research Group, Ulm University
Human hands can't press hard enough to physically reshape dense fascia, yet the tissue clearly changes under them. Schleip's answer, published in 2003, was that the change happens through the nerves. Slow, steady pressure stimulates the nerve endings in fascia. That changes the signals the nervous system sends out, and that changes muscle tone. The pressure is a signal, not a force.
Schleip, 'Fascial plasticity: a new neurobiological explanation', Journal of Bodywork and Movement Therapies, 2003, parts 1 and 2
Ajimsha and colleagues
The Foot · a randomized controlled trial, 2014
In 2014 a team of researchers tested myofascial release for heel pain. They took 66 people with heel pain, 49 of them women, and split them at random into two groups. One group had hands-on myofascial release of the calf and the sole of the foot, from therapists. The other had a fake ultrasound treatment. Both had 12 sessions over four weeks. The myofascial release group's pain and foot function improved more, on a standard foot questionnaire. It was one small trial, and it tested hands-on care from therapists. This program is not that care, and it does not replace it.
Ajimsha MS, Binsu D, Chithra S, 'Effectiveness of myofascial release in the management of plantar heel pain: a randomized controlled trial', The Foot, 2014 (PMID 24703512)
Fascia is a web full of nerve endings. How tightly it holds follows your nervous system's sense, moment to moment, of whether you are safe.
The anatomy is not in dispute, and one small trial on heel pain points the same way. But almost none of it has reached the people who live with a body that won't let go. It sits in textbooks, conference papers and medical journals. It hasn't been turned into something you can do in a chair, with a rolled hand towel, on an ordinary Tuesday afternoon.
Find the sore spot. Roll it harder. Stretch further. Rest it longer.
That's the advice almost everyone gets, and you followed it. It trains you to ask your body one question: how much can I take?
But every time you pushed through, your body braced a little harder.
The advice was wrong, not you.
A strain, long days on hard floors, new shoes, or a sore heel that taught you to brace. Nothing tells your body the danger is over.
Your nervous system holds you tighter, just in case. Your calf shortens, and your toes grip the floor.
The web of tissue around your calf and the sole of your foot holds on to that tension. It gets stiffer, with less give.
A stone under your heel at the first step. A catch every time you stand up. A throb by 6pm.
Your body feels that holding as one more reason to stay on guard, so the loop starts again.
Where the four weeks cut in
Slow, gentle pressure, away from where it hurts, as you breathe out. The holding eases, and the line from your calf to your heel lets go.
The frozen bottle and the golf ball
Rolling feels like doing something, and the cold takes the edge off for a while. But think about where you rolled: right under the part that hurts, as hard as you could stand. When you press hard into a heel that's already guarding, your body treats the pressure as one more threat, and it grips. The cold numbed it for an evening, and by the first step the next morning it was back. You weren't doing it wrong. You were pressing on a place your body had already decided to protect.
Insoles and new shoes
These change how your weight lands, and a good shoe can make a day on your feet easier. If a podiatrist fitted your insoles, keep wearing them: that's their call, not this page's. But a cushion under your heel doesn't tell your calf to let go. The pull along the line is still there, which is why the first step out of bed, before any shoe goes on, still hurt.
Calf stretches from a printed sheet
Hands on the wall, back leg straight, lean until it burns, and count. Stretching is about length, and it's good for keeping the range you already have. But length was never what was missing, which is why the ease went away the moment you stopped. A braced calf meets a hard pull by bracing harder. This program has a lean at a wall too, in week 2, and it's different: only to a soft pull, for three breaths out, after your calf has been worked gently first. Never to a burn.
The night splint
It holds your foot in a stretch all night, so the line can't set while you sleep. If you could sleep in it at all. But a stretch held by force is still force, and a braced body answers force by guarding. Take it off, and nothing has told your body the danger is over. If a doctor or a podiatrist gave you one, that's their call, not this page's.
Painkillers, ice and rest
They turn down the pain signal, and rest gives a sore heel a break. They took the edge off a bad evening, and there's nothing wrong with wanting a bad evening to be shorter. But they never touched the reason the first step hurts. They turn down the alarm. They don't tell your body the danger is over.
Chasing the sore spot
It makes sense to treat the place that hurts, so everything went to your heel. But fascia is one connected web, and it shares the load. A heel rarely holds alone. It holds along with a calf that has been tight for years, toes that grip the floor, and an arch that never softens. Work only the heel, and the rest of the line hands the pull straight back to it. The pain stayed in your heel because part of the reason for it was further up.
None of these was a silly thing to try. Each one worked on the sore spot, on body chemistry or on how your weight lands.
But the bracing is set by your nervous system, and nothing had told it the danger was over. None of those fixes reached the part of you that keeps you braced. The problem was never that you didn't try hard enough, stretch often enough or stick with it long enough.
How the method works
Fascia was treated as packing material for a long time. That was wrong. Fascia is full of nerve endings. They sense pressure, stretch, movement and where your joints are. In some places, fascia has as many of them as your skin does.
These nerve endings report to your brain all day long. Your brain uses what they report to answer one question: am I safe?
Muscle tone, how tight your muscles are at rest, is the answer. When your brain thinks you need protecting, your muscles tighten. When it stops thinking that, they ease off. Your nervous system sets muscle tone, and your fascia holds on to it.
That means the golf ball, the bottle and the stretches were never working on dead packing material. They were pressing on nerve endings, and your brain read that pressure before any tissue was allowed to change.
When the pressure is hard enough that you hold your breath, your brain gets one message: it still hurts there, so keep protecting it. Your muscles tighten. A hard pull sends the same message. Your brain did the right thing with what it was told. It just wasn't what you wanted.
This program works the other way around. It has three rules, and every session follows them.
Rule one: go slow and gentle enough that you keep breathing easily. That's the test. The question is how much you can do while staying relaxed, not how much you can take. Most of this program is a 1 or a 2 out of 5. Under your arch, it's never more than a 2, and the sore spot on your heel is never pressed at all.
Rule two: start away from the sore spot. A heel that already hurts is sending a loud signal all day, and a bit more pressure there won't change it. Your hands and your calves are quiet. A small, gentle signal there is one your brain will notice, and your calf is the far end of the same line that ends at your heel. That's why the first week is your hands, your calves and your toes, when it's your heel that hurts. Your arch comes in week 2, from the far end, the ball of your foot. The sore spot on your heel is never pressed, rolled or stood on.
Rule three: time it with your breath going out. A slow breath out is a signal to settle in its own right. You choose where to press, and you also choose when.
Try it now, before you decide anything.
Maybe something changed, and maybe it didn't. Either way, you have your answer, and it took 90 seconds. You pressed gently in one place and checked for a change somewhere else. That's the whole method, and it's how Week 1 works. Notice what you didn't have to do: you never touched your heel.
You might be thinking this sounds too gentle to do anything. That's fair. Everything that ever helped you, even for a few days, was intense. Your thumb on the web of your own hand sounds like a waste of a morning.
But gentle is the point. For months, your body has been reading intense pressure as a threat. This program doesn't ask how much pressure you can take. It asks how little you can use and still notice a change.
The practitioner
Almost every step in this program comes from two ideas. It helps to know them before you start.
The first is to start away from the pain. A heel that aches is already sending loud signals, so I start where things are quiet: your hands, then your calves, then your toes. Then the arch of your foot, from the far end, the ball of your foot, coming a little closer to your heel each week. The sore spot itself is never pressed, rolled or stood on. At most, you cup a warm palm around it.
The second is the breath out. You breathe in for five seconds and out for five, and you press, sweep or roll as the breath leaves. The pace is slow for that reason, and the steps keep saying "notice" instead of "push."
Everything else comes from those two ideas, including the rules that you never force anything, never stretch to your limit, and never stand on a ball or a bottle.
When your instinct says to press harder or pull further, remember this: slower often works better than deeper.
On your phone
A good therapist can help your foot feel easier for an afternoon. But your heel catches again at your desk, getting out of the car and on the first step tomorrow, and nobody is there with you then.
This program is. Every session is on your phone. Each step shows you where to put your hands, how hard to press and when to breathe, with a timer running. There's nothing to remember and nothing to look up. You just follow the screen until it says stop, sitting in a chair, on the edge of your bed or at a wall.
Before your first step in the morning, there's a two-minute routine you do in bed. On a long day of sitting, there's the desk minute. On a bad day, there's a two-minute version. At night, there's a four-minute routine for your feet.
And because letting go is often quiet, the app keeps a quick score before and after each practice. On a day it feels like nothing has changed, you can look back and see whether it has.
The away-from-it session. Done.
Tension before
7
After
4
Knee to wall
Finger widths from the wall, before and after
Every step on the screen
Where to put your hands, how hard to press and when to breathe, with a timer running.
From a chair or your bed
Almost every practice is done sitting or lying down. The sore spot on your heel is never pressed, and you never stand on a ball.
For the hard moments
A routine for before your first step, the desk minute for long sits, a two-minute version for bad days, and a bedtime routine for your feet.
Your own top three
In week 4 the app looks back at your practices and shows you the three tools that helped you most.
Quiet proof
A quick score before and after each practice, on a chart that belongs to you.
Inside the program
You get four weekly sessions, a short practice for the days in between, and a workbook. Your phone guides you through every session, step by step, with a timer, so you never have to remember what comes next. You do it sitting in a chair, on the sofa or on the edge of your bed, with a short, gentle lean at a wall and a few minutes of standing soft in week 3, and none of it is harder than making a cup of tea. Each session goes in order, from the quiet places toward the sore one, so every weekly session starts somewhere other than your heel.
Before you begin
You don't do anything to your body yet. First you meet the tools: your own hands, a hand towel, warm water from the tap, a wall, and a pillow. You learn how light the pressure is. Most of this program is a 1 or a 2 out of 5, and under your arch it's never more than a 2. Then you read the full safety guide: where never to work, and the signs that mean see a doctor first. The rule from then on: slow down instead of working harder, never press or stand on the sore spot of your heel, never stand on a ball or a bottle, and never work through real pain.
Week 1
A heel that hurts is sending a loud signal all day. Your hands and your calves are quiet, so a small signal there is one your brain will notice, and your calf is the far end of the same line that ends at your heel. The first session starts with a long breath out and your hands. Then slow sweeps up the back of your lower leg, and a rolled towel under your calf, with only the leg's own weight resting on it. Then your toes, spread and let go, and slow circles from your ankle. You are nowhere near your heel the whole time. You check how far your knee bends toward a wall, before and after, so you know on day 1 whether anything moved. This week you also learn the routine you do in bed, before your first step.
Week 2
The sole of your foot is one sheet from your toes to your heel. Work it gently from the far end, and the heel end has less to hold. A body that feels unsafe answers a hard pull by pulling back. So this week does the opposite of what you were told. No stretching to the end of anything. Instead, sitting down, a rolled towel under your arch, rolled from the ball of your foot to the middle and back, with only the weight of your foot. Your thumbs in slow, small circles along your arch, stopping a thumb's width before the sore spot. Then a gentle lean at a wall, only until there's a soft pull in your calf.
Week 3
Most of the holding happens standing, not in the session: toes gripping the floor, knees locked at the sink, your heel taking every step on a hard kitchen floor. So this week you learn to catch it. Standing soft, with your knees a little bent, your weight spread over your heel, the ball and the outer edge of each foot, and your toes resting. The big toe lift, so your toes learn to let go. The desk minute, with five slow rocks from heel to toe before you stand up. A warm foot soak after a long day standing, and a four-minute routine for your feet at bedtime.
Week 4
This week you do the full sequence, in the order everything has built toward: your hands, the sweeps up your calf, the towel under your calf, the towel under your arch, your thumbs along it, your toes spread, the big toe lift, the gentle lean at the wall, and standing soft. Then the app looks back at your practices and shows you your own top three. Those become your five minutes, the short routine you keep. You also settle your own routine for before your first step, a two-minute version for bad days, and a flare-up plan you write on a calm day.
The workbook
The before-your-first-step routine on one page, for your bedside. A shoe guide: what to look for, with no brands. A page for your standing days. A flare-up plan you write before you need it. The signs that mean see a doctor first, in one place. And the four-week report, which puts your day 1 and day 28 side by side.
What usually changes
These are the changes to watch for, roughly in the order they tend to come. This isn't a schedule or a promise, and no two days are the same.
Shoes by the bed, so you never step down barefoot.
Stepping out of bed before you remember to brace.
Walking to the bathroom on your toes, one hand on the wall.
Walking to the bathroom on your whole foot.
Standing up from your desk and waiting before the first step.
Standing up from your desk and just walking off.
Getting out of the car and testing the ground like ice.
Getting out of the car without thinking about your heel.
A heel that throbs by 6pm after a day on hard floors.
Getting to the evening with your feet just being feet.
Looking for the bench before you look for the bread.
Doing the whole shop without looking for somewhere to sit.
Calves that feel like tight cords.
Calves that soften under your own hands.
Saying no to the walk with your friend.
Saying yes to the evening walk.
Lying down at night with your foot throbbing.
Lying down and settling without having to work at it.
The change is rarely dramatic. It looks like a body that needs to hold on a little less.
The program
You could book a session with a therapist instead. You'd block out an hour, travel there and back, and have someone skilled work on your calf and your foot. You'd walk out easier. In the trial above, it took 12 sessions in four weeks, three a week. And between them, you'd still face every first step out of bed on your own. That's not because the therapist was bad at it. Your heel doesn't tighten by appointment. It tightens overnight, at your desk and on the hard floor at home. Your body lets go of bracing when it gets the signal often enough to trust it, and that means the practice has to be something you do yourself. That's why this program is a chair, a towel, a wall and a few minutes a day, for one payment.
The program
The full four weeks, yours for life.
$97 Save $80.01 (82%)
$16.99
One payment. Nothing recurring.
$16.99 is your price for the next 47:59:59. After that it is $97.
Compared with any other way to get this kind of help, the price on the button is small. One hour of hands-on myofascial release at a clinic often costs more than that by itself, and the trial above used twelve sessions.
Myofascial Protocol wants more people doing this work, not fewer, so the price is the one on the button: one payment, lifetime access, nothing recurring.
How it compares
You go to the Myofascial Protocol checkout. You enter your email and pay. After that you'll see a couple of short pages with offers you can skip, and then you're signed in with Day 1 waiting. You can be sitting in a chair with your hands in your lap within ten minutes of clicking.
$97 $16.99 · yours for 47:59:59
One payment. Lifetime access. 30-day guarantee.
You have 30 days. You don't have to prove you did the work, and nobody checks up on you.
If it's not for you, email hello@send.myofascialprotocol.com. There's no form to fill out, no phone call, and nobody will argue with you.
If something got in your way, we will offer to fix it first. If you'd still rather have your money back, the answer is yes, and we refund what you paid.
We ask one thing: do the first session, and give the daily practice a few honest days. You don't have to prove anything to us. Most of the change happens quietly, and a few days is about how long it takes to notice whether your first steps are asking a little less of you.
You can close this page and go back to the week you've been living: shoes by the bed, tiptoeing to the bathroom, and a heel that catches every time you stand up. Nobody here will argue with that.
Or you can press the button, sit down with your hands in your lap today, and tomorrow morning do the two-minute routine in bed before your first step. Then notice how that first step feels. If it doesn't work for you, the 30-day refund is there for exactly that.
One payment. Lifetime access. 30-day guarantee.
We know this is a long page. If you read it from the top, that's more attention than most people in pain can spare at once, and it says a lot about how much you want this to change. The rest of the page answers common questions.
One payment. Lifetime access. 30-day guarantee.
Two answers, and they're different.
What this program works on is the holding, and a sore heel rarely holds alone. Week 1 works your calves, the far end of the line. Week 2 works the arch of your foot from the ball end, gently, and never more than a 2 out of 5. Week 3 is how you stand and walk through the day. Week 4 puts it together, from your calf to your toes. The sore spot on your heel is never pressed, rolled or stood on.
What it is not is a treatment for plantar fasciitis, heel spurs or any foot condition, and it doesn't replace a doctor, a podiatrist or a physical therapist. If you're seeing one, follow their plan, and ask them before you add anything, this included. Some things are a question for a doctor first, and some are urgent. You can't put weight on your foot. Your heel started hurting after a fall or a jump. You felt a sudden sharp pain or a pop at the back of your heel or in your calf. Your foot is swollen, red or hot, or you have a fever. You have numbness, tingling or burning in your foot or toes. The pain comes at night or at rest and doesn't ease, gets worse the more you walk, or hurts when you squeeze the sides of your heel. Or your heel pain comes with pain and swelling in other joints. If you have diabetes and your feet are numb, or you have a cut, sore or wound on your foot, don't do pressure work on that foot. See your doctor first. What this program gives you is four weeks of gentle work on the tension around it, the part you can put your hands on.
The gentlest week asks less of you than drying the dishes. Week 1 is your hands, your calves and your toes, sitting in a chair. If that's still too much on a given day, rub the web of your hand for a minute and stop there. The test for pressure is simple: you can breathe normally and stay relaxed. The moment you're holding your breath, the pressure is too much, so you ease off. If your heel is worse the next morning, that means do less, not more. You never push through anything here, because a body that reads force as a threat just braces again.
Because the hard stuff worked on the sore spot, and the sore spot isn't what's doing the holding. Your nervous system sets how tight your muscles are. Pressure so hard you hold your breath gets treated as one more threat, so your muscles tighten instead of relaxing. This program works the other way: slow, gentle, away from where it hurts, and timed to a long breath out. Your body registers that it's safe first, and then it lets go on its own. That's why the first session starts at your hands and your calves when it's your heel that hurts. If you want to know before you spend anything, try the 90-second test further up the page.
No. It works alongside them. It isn't exercise. There's no stretching to your limit and no standing on a ball, and almost all of it is done sitting down, with a towel, warm water or your own hands. If a podiatrist or physical therapist gave you exercises or insoles, keep them: that's their call, not this page's. If you're pregnant, it's fine to do gently, once your midwife or doctor has said yes. If you take blood thinners, ask your doctor first, use the lightest pressure only, and none at all where you bruise. If you have diabetes with numb feet, or a cut or sore on your foot, see your doctor before any pressure work. Take extra care if you bruise very easily, have clotting or circulation problems, have had recent surgery or an injury, or have pain that's severe or unexplained. The first page inside lists all of this clearly, before you touch anything.
No. Nothing here asks you to rest your foot for weeks, or to give up the walks you can still do. It never asks you to walk further to prove anything either. Week 3 is about the hours you spend on your feet anyway: at the sink, at your desk, on hard floors. If a walk or a long day makes the next morning worse, do a little less the next day, not more. If walking makes the pain worse and worse instead of easing, ask your doctor first.
Often in the first session, though maybe not in the way you expect. The first change to look for is small: your knee reaching a little closer to the wall after the first session than before it, or a first step that's a little softer. I'll be honest with you. Letting go is usually quiet, and how intense a session feels doesn't tell you how much it helped. The bigger changes, like first steps you don't brace for, standing up without the catch, and the evening walk back, tend to come over the four weeks, not in one afternoon.
No. You have 30 days. We only ask that you do the first session and give the daily practice a few honest days. If nothing has moved and your heel feels no different, email hello@send.myofascialprotocol.com within the 30 days. If something got in your way, we will offer to fix it first. If you still want your money back, we refund what you paid. There's no target to hit and no form to fill out defending your effort.
One payment. Lifetime access. 30-day guarantee.
If you skipped straight down here, this is the short version. Your heel is the loud end of a long line that runs from your calf, under your heel, to the sole of your foot. That line is braced. Your nervous system does this when nothing has told it the danger is over, and your fascia stiffens around it. That's why the frozen bottle, the golf ball, the insoles and the stretches each helped for a few days before the first steps hurt again. They worked on the sore spot, and most of them pushed, and a braced body treats pushing as one more reason to brace. This four-week program does the opposite. It's slow and gentle, it starts away from where it hurts, and it's timed to your breath out. It never presses on the sore spot of your heel. All you need is your hands, a rolled hand towel, warm water, a wall and a chair. It's one payment for lifetime access, and you have 30 days to change your mind.
Don't decide based on this page. Decide based on your own foot. Stand facing a wall, your sorer foot in front, its heel down. Breathe out and bend that knee slowly toward the wall, only as far as is easy, and notice where it reaches. Then sit and gently rub the web between the thumb and first finger of your left hand for 30 seconds, nowhere near your heel. Try the wall again, just as slowly. Whatever you find, that's the method in 90 seconds: you pressed gently in one place and checked for a change somewhere else.
If you have a question before you decide, or after, email hello@send.myofascialprotocol.com.