I have felt like I was banging my head against a wall trying to increase my running distance more than a mile or decrease my time for a mile. The running portion of the mini-triathlon next October is a measly 1 and 1/2 mile, but it seemed this final leg of the race was going to be like a marathon for me. No matter how I developed my stamina with other exercise, no matter how much I strengthened my legs with weight lifting, no matter how much I did what little interval training my legs would agree to, I felt like a plodding invalid. Even after getting new, well-rated running shoes, within a mile, the ilio-tibial band of my right leg tightened and begged me to stop. I tried to push thoughts of age and never really running again from my mind. Then, last week, my husband forwarded me an article on barefoot running.
I was intrigued and hopeful, so I read a few more articles on the subject. To begin trying to run barefoot, it was strongly suggested, do not run too much the first time. It would use different muscles than I was used to, since it allows the foot to function with more spring and resilience. It would be fun. The Rec Center indoor wooden track seemed like a perfect place to try this. The sign above the track said athletic shoes required, but I judged that they meant non-marking shoes, and my feet were certainly “non-marking.” Off I went for a test run.
The feeling was immediately exhilarating! I felt like a kid again or a gazelle or something poetic like that! I bounded around for about 3 laps, ignoring the occasional glance questioning my shoeless behavior. Then a daughter joined me and prompted me to sprint the last of the mile. I felt incredibly light as my legs whirled in delight. I was breathing quite easily compared to previous miles with shoes and felt I could run more, but recalled the warnings that “it will feel so good, but you really shouldn’t.” I walked a partial lap with another daughter and found that one toe was blistered and popped. I may have left a little blood on the track somewhere… not a permanent mark. So I finished my exercise as usual in the weight room and we headed home.
A couple of hours later my calves were responding in full to the experiment. Nothing was pulled, but the level of stiff and sore, coupled with the blisters on both feet, was making me walk in a comical, embarrassing way. I periodically got up to walk as normally as I could , finding that the stretching that happened naturally was a good thing. Just sitting was going to make things feel worse. I wasn’t discouraged, though. I spent several hours over the next couple of days reading more information on how to learn how to run correctly again, the way our feet are designed to run.
The most pressing question was whether or not I could make it through Nordic ski lessons in two days, which my husband had been so greatly looking forward to. By that day, Saturday, I could still only walk at a very slow pace, being most careful because the sore calf muscles didn’t want to seem to help out with sideways balance. Greg lovingly bandaged my toes. Once up the beautiful snow covered mountain, he dropped me off at the lodge and made the 2 mile trek from the parking lot by himself while I hobbled to the desk to check us in. I was pleased to find that Nordic boots are much more soft and flexible than downhill boots. My toes seemed quite adequately protected. Now I just needed to find out if I could manage the skiing motion.
Amazingly, the Nordic skiing was fairly easy. It may even have been good for stretching those calves out. Balance was still an issue, though. Once, during a slow exercise in the class, I just toppled over. The very experienced, mature, heretofore calm instructor came up to check on me exclaiming, “I saw you fall, but I have no idea why you fell! I can’t tell you what happened. I don’t know what happened to you!” I had tried to tell him about my legs, but I had been doing well enough on my form that he seemed to think I was just making excuses.
Greg and I went on a circuit by ourselves after the lessons. He skied circles around me, but what’s new. It was very pleasant. There was a constant stream of other friendly skiers. The scenery was a magnificent reminder of our loving God. Plus, I stayed warm and didn’t fall over again, even managing a downhill portion of the track handily. Back in Boise, I was treated to a big, juicy hamburger.
Sunday was a welcome day of rest and I must admit I was spoiled by everyone. I never got out of my pajamas. I just puttered around. I spent a couple more hours reading about barefoot running. I found several useful sites:
The fellow who writes runningbarefoot.org seems to be a bit of a legend in the world of barefoot running. He has lots of useful information on technique. His points on staying strictly barefoot are good, but the main weakness of this site seems to be that he runs almost exclusively in southern California and one may be mislead when it comes to running barefoot in cold weather.
The blog barefootrunner.com is a well rounded cache of information, including reviews of minimalist footwear that may be considered when shoes are required by institution or weather.
shodless.com is a very complete, but concise introduction to barefoot running, with some good links to discussion of winter problem solving.
Today is Monday and I can walk without thinking about it. I plan on buying a pair of Vibram Five Fingers soon. Benchmark Adventures (625 Vista Ave. Boise) is listed as a dealer. Those will be for situations when I have to wear shoes. I plan on going barefoot a lot outdoors come spring, so if you hear about some crazy lady running around Nampa barefoot, it might be me!
Vibrams on Asphalt
Bahama Bodies Program Meets Mini Triathlon Training
Completely Baring My Soles
