I Went Barefoot

I've always wanted to run.  I aspire to be one of those people who can wake up at the ass crack of dawn and pump out 3 miles without hardly breaking a sweat.  But as it is, I have trouble getting up a half an hour early just to walk my dogs around the block.

Running has always been difficult for me.  I have suffered with shin splints since junior high school.  Even when I was in perfect shape and condition, I was plagued with these horrid splints.

Over the past year, I have begun different beginner running programs to lose weight.  My weight alone is a huge factor in my running pain.  But running was the fastest way for me to lose weight.  I tried everything to rid myself of the aweful splints that would stop every routine I attempted dead in it's tracks.  The pain was too much.

Finally, I caved, I and I purchased a $120 pair of running shoes.  And miraculously, they cured the shin splints.  But they also brought on a whole new multitude of problems.  My back started to hurt, my knee started to hurt.  My feet began to hurt.  You can't run on sore feet. So I had to make a choice.  Did I want shin splints, or a handful of other painful and potentially damaging issues?

Choose, Em.  You have to choose. 

Or do I?

Little sister recently raved about this book.  A book about a distance runner who spent time with a tribe in one of the most dangerous places on the planet to live.  And this tribe runs.  Barefoot.  And they have no pain.  They dont suffer from shin splints or back pain or knee twinges.  They don't spend hard earned dollars on 'real' running shoes.  They live on highly vegetarian diets, despite the protein rich diet that long distance runners swear by.  This tribe gets plastered in celebration the night before their 50 mile barefoot trek across the canyon.

I did so much research on running shoes, so that when I forked over that hunk of paycheck for good running shoes, I would get what I was paying for.  But as it turns out, the more supportive a running shoe is, the more likely you are to be injured.  Really?  Can that be right?  Well yes, I can see how that would be correct.  When you have that much arch and support, you don't get to feel where exactly you are going wrong in your form.  And then down the road, it turns into bigger problems, like shin splints.  Like low back pain.  Like knee pain.  Like foot problems.  But if you're running barefoot, you can immediately feel where you're stepping wrong and you can correct it within a step or two.  You are correcting your own body in a way that run of the mill, made for everybody running shoes can't. 

So today, I went barefoot.  I went to the gym.  I hopped on the treadmill without shoes (just socks).  And I started to walk.  Obviously, I cant immediately expect to run a marathon barefoot.  But I can begin to build strength in my feet and legs so that my body can adjust.  I went one single mile.  That mile took me 19 minutes and 54 seconds.  Going barefoot causes me to have to shorten my stride pretty drastically, because it forces me to stop heel striking.  Oh yeah, when I run with shoes, I am a heel striker.  Big no no, especially when you're overweight.  When you come down on your foot while you run, you are putting 5x the weight of your body down on heel. 

For the first half mile, I just walked.  Normally, I can walk comfortably at a 3.5.  Barefoot, because of the shortened stride and the forced concentration on my landing, I was gong 2.9.  Considerably slower.  But it felt great.  After a half mile of walking, I turned it up to a slow jog.  Immediately I discovered where I was going wrong.  My body automatically corrected it's landing in a way it could never do with a shoe. 

I jogged for about an 8th of a mile.  Right out of the gate, I could only safely test myself that much without risking injury.  No pain.  No pain anywhere.

Okay, that's a lie.  My one complaint would be that because I chose to use a treadmill wearing just socks, the friction from the track against the underbody started to burn.  It got pretty hot and I'm left with a small heat blister on the ball of each foot.  But that just means that I have to change my game plan a little bit.  Those blisters had absolutely nothing to do with the barefoot running, and completely to do with my poor judgement.  It's easily corrected.

I'm excited to see how this progresses.  The worst that could happen is that I'll fail like I have before with every other running program. 

Ironically, on the same day that I discovered barefoot running, I signed up for a running class.  At the place where I bought my $120 worthless running shoes.  So it will be interesting to see what they have to say about this barefoot running.