Another three runs gone by. My resolve to go slow and short is failing, after all, isn't that called going out for a stroll? I am approaching regular distance (80%), although I haven't measured I suspect I am probably at full pace. Legs, ankles and especially my feet are feeling fine.
What is it about running barefoot that changes my perspective so much on the sport? I who never write about anything much less keep a journal, should now blog about running. Running which has always been a means to an end - run to get something: get in shape, lose weight, train for the next race, cross train or off season train for some other sport; but never for fun.
Not that running isn't fun. I am hardly a person who does things that aren't fun if I don't have to. Sure running is fun, but for all the reasons that I do run or have run FUN was never in the top 5 reasons for doing it.
Until I took my running shoes off.
Now I find myself thinking about when the next run and where I will go. How long until I can get out again? How long will I get to go? Will there be water? Will there be a chance to go off the asphalt? A chance to go off the trail? What kind of fun will I have this time?
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Water
Another glorious day for a run. The rain swept through yesterday afternoon washing the countryside down, and some of the countryside down the hill as well. But today it is all late afternoon sun and cool crystal clear blue sky as I walk out the front door in my VFFs.
I tell myself just a short run, 15 minutes maybe - 20 tops - and I will go slow. But as I start down the dirt road and onto a barely visible trail used mostly by me and the coyotes to get across the usually (although not today) dry creek bed, I am pretty sure that I am lying to myself. I have run this route before in shoes, when training for races and there is no way I will be back in less than 45 minutes at a real training pace.
My legs feel good and my feet feel great. In fact they feel everything. It is a lot to process for my brain which is mostly used to feeling only soccer related pain from my feet lately. I grin like an idiot as I splash through the creek realizing that I really don't give a shit if my shoes get wet at the beginning of the run. I jump out of the safety of the shallows into calf deep cold water. My feet are loving it and with regret I keep running out of the creek and up onto the trail. But I make plans to spend more time there on the way back.
30 minutes, a somewhat fulfilled self-promise to take it slow and not go too far, and 6 mud puddles later I am back at the creek. I take off the VFFs and splash in. My feet feel fantastic, like I haven't run at all. I walk on the cold stones and pebbles in the creek bottom, occasionally stepping up out of the water onto warmer boulders to look for better and deeper places to splash into. I soak my feet and legs in the cold, clear, fast moving stuff and dream of the next run.
I tell myself just a short run, 15 minutes maybe - 20 tops - and I will go slow. But as I start down the dirt road and onto a barely visible trail used mostly by me and the coyotes to get across the usually (although not today) dry creek bed, I am pretty sure that I am lying to myself. I have run this route before in shoes, when training for races and there is no way I will be back in less than 45 minutes at a real training pace.
My legs feel good and my feet feel great. In fact they feel everything. It is a lot to process for my brain which is mostly used to feeling only soccer related pain from my feet lately. I grin like an idiot as I splash through the creek realizing that I really don't give a shit if my shoes get wet at the beginning of the run. I jump out of the safety of the shallows into calf deep cold water. My feet are loving it and with regret I keep running out of the creek and up onto the trail. But I make plans to spend more time there on the way back.
30 minutes, a somewhat fulfilled self-promise to take it slow and not go too far, and 6 mud puddles later I am back at the creek. I take off the VFFs and splash in. My feet feel fantastic, like I haven't run at all. I walk on the cold stones and pebbles in the creek bottom, occasionally stepping up out of the water onto warmer boulders to look for better and deeper places to splash into. I soak my feet and legs in the cold, clear, fast moving stuff and dream of the next run.
Friday, February 5, 2010
Birth
Fitting that my first day of barefoot running should occur on the day of the birth of my son Maxwell, it was a good day to be born.
Having just got a pair of Vibrams a few days ago I decided I was ready to actually go for a short, slow run in the rain and begin my barefoot experience in earnest.
It was glorious; 54 degrees, rain, wind, iPod ... the works. As I leashed up the dog and closed the front door I had to concentrate on holding myself back from bolting down the steps and out onto the lawn. A drastic change to footwear requires thought and care to avoid injury - not the least available to me at these early stages are stress fractures and pulled muscles. I have to learn to run again, unlearning the cushioned stride and relearning the child's gait.
Since my feet have been swathed in socks and cushioned shoes for almost 40 years I certainly don't have the callouses to go truly barefoot, so the Vibrams are the next best thing. 3.5 mm of rubberish tread means you can feel every leaf underfoot, every pebble, the splash of a puddle and the squish of still damp earth between your toes.
This sounds a bit scary; who wants to feel pebbles underfoot when you are running? A rock in your shoe is aggravating at best and always a show stopper. But a stone in your shoe is not the same as a stone underfoot. Your feet know what to do, how to cope, how to bend and how to absorb them even if you (like me) have forgotten.
Watching my children run around barefoot every day through gravel and rocks, sharp oak tree leaves, across pavement without a care in the world is proof that our bodies are capable; this afternoon I got reborn into that wonderful youth of running barefoot without a care.
Having just got a pair of Vibrams a few days ago I decided I was ready to actually go for a short, slow run in the rain and begin my barefoot experience in earnest.
It was glorious; 54 degrees, rain, wind, iPod ... the works. As I leashed up the dog and closed the front door I had to concentrate on holding myself back from bolting down the steps and out onto the lawn. A drastic change to footwear requires thought and care to avoid injury - not the least available to me at these early stages are stress fractures and pulled muscles. I have to learn to run again, unlearning the cushioned stride and relearning the child's gait.
Since my feet have been swathed in socks and cushioned shoes for almost 40 years I certainly don't have the callouses to go truly barefoot, so the Vibrams are the next best thing. 3.5 mm of rubberish tread means you can feel every leaf underfoot, every pebble, the splash of a puddle and the squish of still damp earth between your toes.
This sounds a bit scary; who wants to feel pebbles underfoot when you are running? A rock in your shoe is aggravating at best and always a show stopper. But a stone in your shoe is not the same as a stone underfoot. Your feet know what to do, how to cope, how to bend and how to absorb them even if you (like me) have forgotten.
Watching my children run around barefoot every day through gravel and rocks, sharp oak tree leaves, across pavement without a care in the world is proof that our bodies are capable; this afternoon I got reborn into that wonderful youth of running barefoot without a care.
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