Several years ago I learned that they manufacture a thing called a callus shaver, with which you can remove dead skin from your feet to keep it from building up to the point that it cracks, which helps A LOT, and immediately felt really dumb for taking so long to realize this was an avoidable problem. (Some people swear by pumice stones, but I can scrub for twenty minutes with one of those suckers and barely make a start.)
Sometimes I feel like that's what being in your thirties is all about: realizing that whatever it is, it probably has happened to lots of other people as well, and there's something out there -- a product, a social convention, an expert, a work of art, an industry, something -- maybe several somethings -- that's all about dealing with it.
Which I find both comforting and a little deflating.
I put off the maintenance a bit long this time and got a nasty split that left me limping for the last couple days. It's better today, but now I'm sitting around with one sock on to keep the skin on my foot from drying out. I think the thirties are also about letting go of the illusion that you're cool enough not to have inconvenient biology.