Tag Archives: barefoot running

Announcing RaceBarefoot: Race reviews for the barefoot runner

In 2014 I returned to racing after a 2.5 year hiatus due to an incessant string of injuries. During this (too-)long period of rehab I ditched the shoes and retrained myself to run, discovering the joys and benefits of running barefoot. My first barefoot half marathon was an exhilarating personal victory and I of course was stricken with the race bug. I was eager to find my next race, but immediately became frustrated by the lack of race information geared towards barefoot runners. Beyond the usual considerations of race support, aid stations and number of porta-potties, barefoot running poses unique challenges, such as gravel, chipseal or extreme heat to name a few. To my dismay, as I researched the ideal course on which to attempt my first barefoot marathon, I found no reliable sources for such specific race details. My efforts to research barefoot-friendly races amounted to fruitless chats on social media and emails to race directors. With great frustration, most of my “How barefoot-friendly is Race X?” inquiries were met with resounding silence.

Out of this frustration was born the motivation to develop a race review resource targeted specifically at barefoot runners: a community for barefooters to share their race experiences–from heavenly smooth pavement to long stretches of challenging gravel to amusing commentary from the peanut gallery. A year after discovering this gaping hole in the barefoot running community, I’m thrilled to announce that RaceBarefoot.com is finally live!

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I invite you to visit the site, share your personal tales of barefoot race victories or disasters, and peruse your fellow runners’ reviews to help select your next barefoot race. We hope that, with the birth of RaceBarefoot.com, no barefoot runner will again have to face the “information abyss” as they research their next 5k, half marathon or ultra!

As the site is newly launched, it is still in beta form, so please feel free to contact us at racebarefoot@gmail.com if you notice any errors or oddities!

Infinite thanks to Lance Troxel for his impeccable design skills and to Russell Reas–master developer–for devoting innumerable weekends to transform my vision into reality.

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Barefoot Running Workshop 3: Hills, Speed & Precautions

Many thanks to all who attended the final session of our Barefoot Running Workshops! In today’s workshop we built on the fundamentals of running mechanics covered in the first and second workshops. We tweaked our speed and hill running techniques, addressed safety issues unique to barefooting and took running video selfies for gait analysis. Here are some of the highlights of the day’s fun …

Happy, dirty feet, post-hills and sprints!

Happy, dirty feet, post-hills and sprints!

HILLS

Downhill

When running downhill, the impact on the body increases due to acceleration from gravity. When you drop a ball, it will fall faster when it hits the ground if dropped from 10 feet than 5 feet; similarly, your body will actually descend faster towards the ground when plummeting downhill than climbing up. The secret to effective downhill running lies in using that acceleration to your advantage, rather than letting gravity get the better of you.

Minimize bouncing. With that extra distance between you and the earth, downhill running comes with additional vertical motion. Try to minimize any unnecessary upwards motions, like jumping or bouncing, that will only exacerbate the stress from the downward fall. Aim to stay low to the ground and level on the horizontal plane.

Bend the knees. The knees serve as shock absorbers, so bent knees can greatly counter the added stress from downhill running. This also facilitates a low, steady stride, making it even easier to avoid bouncing and pounding.

Avoid breaking. Embrace gravity, don’t resist it. Steep inclines will automatically increase your pace, and a faster than normal clip can feel uncomfortable. A natural – often subconscious – response is to put on the breaks, stiffening the joints to counter the impact. This defense mechanism is far from beneficial, creating unnecessary tension as we clench in resistance, which only opens the door to injury. Take advantage of the acceleration and allow yourself to float. Once you release and embrace the descent, the ride will feel more like flying than a downward crash.

Don’t over-stride. Over-striding is always dangerous, but exceptionally so when running downhill. What’s worse, downhills actually encourage over-striding, as they entice us to extend the leg out in front as a protective mechanism. This only forces you into a heel strike and increases stress on the shins and knees – a dangerous combination when coupled with an already elevated impact from the incline!

Uphill

In contrast to downhills, uphill running requires us to fight against gravity. Maintaining proper form will keep you strong to efficiently conquer these demands.

Lean into hill. Exaggerate your forward lean to counteract the incline. But take care to lean not at the waist, but with the entire body. Collapsing forward will only increase your workload and make that hill feel extra torturous!

Stay tall. Since the goal is upward movement, aim to lengthen the body upward. This is where good posture is key, keeping the back tall and long, head high and looking forward.

Steady effort. Powering up a daunting hill may not be the best tactic to smoke your competition. Your strong sprint could easily backfire, leaving you exhausted by the time you summit. Rather than keeping a steady pace, aim to maintain a steady effort. This of course, means slowing it down on those inclines. To track your effort, monitor your breathing rate; regular breathing means regular effort and is a good indication you’re not over-exerting yourself.

SPEED

Increase forward lean. To run faster, we need to increase the amount of forward motion per step. This extra ground coverage can be achieved relatively easily be simply leaning forward.

Light feet and high cadence. Faster speed does not in fact require higher cadence (leg turnover rate). You should strive for the same high cadence as always (at least 180 steps per minute). However, when sprinting this high cadence will even further work to your advantage. Speed can be more strenuous on bare feet, encouraging shearing and friction. Keeping your foot-strike light and cadence high can minimize these effects by reducing your ground contact time.

Open stride. Don’t be afraid to open up your stride. Barefoot running often encourages a shorter stride, but a longer stride can help support speed for any runner. Allow your hips to open a bit more and your leg to lift a touch higher than usual, but remain fluid and never force a gait change.

 

PRECAUTIONS

Blisters & Abrasions

Blisters and raw skin are relatively common for novice barefoot runners. While unpleasant, these can be valuable training tools as they’re telltale signs of sub-optimal biomechanics. Use their appearance and location to pinpoint your weaknesses. Blisters on your toes? You may be pushing off or gripping excessively. Calluses on your heel? You may be striking too far back on the rearfoot. Abrasion on the ball of your foot? Try not to scrape, shuffle or shear the foot on landing, but lightly place and lift instead.

Dangerous” debris

The greatest concern for the new barefoot runner is cutting or bruising their feet on all the glass, rocks and dirty needles littering our earth. In truth, such dangers aren’t prevalent and are relatively innocuous to the conditioned bare foot. That said, there are of course certain encounters that are best avoided by even the most experienced barefooters. 

Urban debris. Most obvious are artificial hazards such as shards of glass or rusty nails. Large dangers are easily avoided by scanning the ground, and smaller ones may not even penetrate the thick, tough skin of the foot’s plantar surface. Of course, in the unlikely case you sustain a bad cut or puncture, seek medical attention!

Natural debris. More likely to take down a barefoot runner are hazards lurking naturally in the trails and grass. Thorns and burs love attaching to feet and although painful, are easily pulled out. Landing hard on a stone can bruise, but the feet will become resilient to even the most daunting rocks and pebbles as the feet strengthen with experience. A less often considered risk, but one that’s taken down yours truly on countless occasions, are bees. Depending on your reaction to bee stings, you may want to seriously reconsider running in grass, especially during the spring and summer, when bees love frolicking through the grass as much as we humans do.

Environment

Heat: Depending on your foot conditioning and tolerance, hot ground can pose unique challenges to the barefoot runner. But because of the reduced foot-contact time when running compared to walking, it’s surprisingly easier on your feet to run on hot terrain. Some surfaces heat more readily than others, so stick to concrete or dirt over pavement. The painted white lines on roads can offer some refuge, as long as you’re careful to avoid cars!

Cold. In some aspects, the cold can be more hazardous to the barefooter than the heat. In extreme cases, the feet can go numb, which reduces sensory feedback and encourages poor biomechanics (not to mention posing a risk of frostbite!). Feet often warm up after just a few minutes of running, but if you do lose sensation, stay smart and stop or put on some protection. Just a pair of socks will often suffice to keep the feet warm while retaining a mostly barefoot feel.

Wet: Running through the rain, mud and puddles can be one of the most exhilarating barefoot experiences. But stay cautious of smooth surfaces, which can become dangerously slick when wet. Water can also soften the skin, making it more likely to rub raw on rough terrain or long runs.

As both a student and teacher, these workshops have been a far more rewarding and educational experience than I originally anticipated. More importantly, they’ve also served as a fantastic tool to connect with the small but passionate community of barefoot runners in San Diego. Given how fun and successful this “pilot” series has been, there will definitely be more! Please don’t hesitate to get in touch with suggestions for what you would like featured in upcoming workshops, and stay tuned details about future events.

Happy barefoot trails!

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The Vancouver Half, a victorious defeat

When life gives you lemons … suck it up. Isn’t that how the saying goes? Well, at the Scotiabank Vancouver Half Marathon last weekend – my second barefoot half – I sucked it up and it was sour.

The saga began a few weeks prior, when I was spontaneously struck with debilitating chest pain. It gripped me intensely, leaving me barely able to breath and fearing a heart attack. An X-ray showed a healthy heart, lungs and ribcage, yet the pain persisted for weeks. Massage, active release and chiropractic adjustments brought some temporary relief, and although I’ll never know for sure, I now suspect it was a strained pec or intercostal muscle. Many days, running was impossible. On good days I could eke out a short, slow, uncomfortable trot. To make matters worse, the stress and tension in my chest and back trickled down to knock the rest of my body out of wack. My opposite leg felt weak and limp, as if it were dragging powerless behind me … as if it belonged to someone else, completely out of my neuromuscular control. As race day neared, I began to abandon my hopes of running at all, mentally preparing for a restful vacation exploring a new city.

Come race morning, I convinced myself anything was possible and knew I would regret not at least trying. The gun went off and to my great surprise, my chest quickly loosened up and my breathing was fluid. My right leg, on the other hand, forgot how to move. For the first seven miles, it took every ounce of mental focus to coerce my muscles into lifting and propelling forward my dead leg. The sun blazed as the pack of runners hugged every smidgen of shade to escape the 80 degree heat. My battle to maintain a semblance of a functional stride intensified as I pranced precariously over nasty stretches of gravel. Eight miles in, a tiny stone sent a zinger through my toe and I pulled to the side for several minutes waiting for the ache to subside. I fought the discouraged voices rationalizing an early finish and pushed ahead. The toe pain gradually dissipated and I even enjoyed a brief surge of strength and fluidity.

But by that point, it was too late and the damage from my wonky gait coupled with the hot, rough and canted roads, had been done. My right heel began to burn and I felt an escalating squish as my bare foot struck the pavement with each step. I refused to inspect my foot and acknowledge that a monstrous blood blister had developed, with four miles still remaining. I refused to focus on the distance ahead, allowing myself to think only of the present moment. “Just take one more step. One step is nothing. Then, just take one more.” I convinced myself that the pain was illusory – that it only existed if I gave it life – and somehow, this denial empowered me through, single squishy step by squishy step. As I sprinted to the finish, a huge smile was plastered on my face and a flood of endorphins masked the havoc I had wreaked on my body. And just like Cinderella at midnight, as I crossed the finish line and broke that invisible endorphin wall, my ecstatic sprint transformed into an awkward hobble over to the medical tent.

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As I saw my finish time, I was surprisingly unfazed by learning I had raced my slowest half ever. Those 13.1 miles were more painful than any I had raced before, but they hurt far less than a DNF or worse – a DNS. Despite the physical pain and frustration, I genuinely enjoyed almost every moment. There is a reason runners return again and again to race, through heat, injury and fatigue … the energy of the running community, the intoxication of the journey, and the discoveries along the way entice us back as addictive rewards.

Several years ago this race would have devastated me. Indeed, by dwelling on insignificant matters of time and speed, racing can destroy a runner and quench the very passion that fuels us to run. But by embracing each experience as a novel opportunity for growth and self-discovery, we can only evolve into better runners – and better human beings. For me, the aggregate challenges of my years of running have reinforced one invaluable lesson. We runners are so much stronger, and our bodies capable of so much more, than we’re aware. Our power is only bounded by the limits of our mind and the integrity of our spirit. To paraphrase a particularly accomplished marathoner, my fastest days may be behind me, but my best running days lay ahead.

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Barefoot Running Workshop 2: Lower and Upper Biomechanics

In the first of our Barefoot Running Workshops, we explored facts and fiction of barefoot running, sensory awareness and mechanics of the foot. In our second workshop today, we introduced basic running kinematics before moving north from the foot to cover mechanics of the lower and upper body. Here’s a recap of the workshop highlights for those who missed it.

RUNNING KINEMATICS

Before diving into the nitty-gritty of leg, hip and torso function, it’s essential to understand how one gets from zero to running in the first place. Running has been described in a multitude of ways, from a controlled fall to alternating one-legged hops to a springy, aerial variant of walking. Given this confusing jumble of terminology, what then are the essential movements that convert a stationary body to a running body? The basic motion is far simpler than most runners would imagine. There’s no jumping, bouncing or flying required! In essence, running is nothing more than marching while moving forward.

March. Simply pick up the feet, the ankle gliding parallel to the shin up to the knee. Return the foot to its starting position and repeat with the other leg. That’s it. The 100-ups are a great exercise to reinforce this motor pattern.

Lean. Once you’ve mastered marching in place, it’s time to transform this into forward motion. This too is simpler than it sounds. To move forward, the body must lean forward. This lean should NOT come from bending at the waist; “sitting” or folding forward will cause a host of problems from the back to the hips to the knees. Instead, the lean should originate at the ankles, the entire body leaning angled together along the same plane. By simply adopting a slight lean from the ankles, you will fall forward and be propelled from stationary marching into forward travel. March, lean, and BAM … you’re magically running!

BIOMECHANICS II: LOWER BODY 

Lift the legs. A constant upward motion should be maintained throughout the gait cycle. This is especially important after striking, when the legs should immediately lift up. The feet should land directly under the hips, neither reaching forward nor crossing over the midline. Both overstriding and a cross-over gait can lead to various injuries. The Gait Guys offer an excellent series of videos on correcting a cross-over gait (part 1, 2 and 3).

Bend the knees. To facilitate a smooth ride, bend and relax the knees. The knees can serve as shock absorbers when allowed to flex, so the greater the bend, the less impact will be sustained upon landing. This is especially helpful when running downhill.

Stable hips. The shin bone’s connected to the thigh bone … the thigh bone’s connected to the hip bone … Yes, it’s all connected, and these chains are particularly notable in the context of how the legs move in response to the hips. The hips are indeed the powerhouse and main driver of a strong running stride. Strong, stable hips are essential, and muscular imbalances or poor hip mechanics are the source of many leg and foot injuries. Don’t let the hips sink or drop, but keep them level on the horizontal plane. The hips serve as the body’s steering wheel, so be sure to keep them facing forward and aligned with the shoulders.

BIOMECHANICS III: UPPER BODY

Core rotation. Some rotation is key to balancing the body’s left-right movements, but excessive rotation, or from the wrong place, can be problematic. Most of the rotation should originate in the core. Imagine the pelvis as a chandelier, the torso as its suspension cable and your head as the ceiling. The pelvis should dangle, relaxed, and rotate freely from the waist, supported by the strength of the strong, elongated core. As the right legs swings back, the right pelvis rotates back. It’s not forced or pulled, but swings naturally, allowing greater leg extension without over-stressing the hips. (The chandelier example was adapted from this excellent article.)

Shoulders and arms. Keep the shoulders low and relaxed, but don’t slouch. Some shoulder motion is fine, but be careful not to dip them or overly rotate the chest. After the hips, the shoulders serve as a second steering wheel, so they should remain stable and facing forward. Keep the arms close to your sides, elbows at a 90 degree angle and swinging forward and backward rather than across the chest. The rhythm of your arms directly affects hip and leg motion; a rapid arm punp can encourage faster leg turnover, and fluid forward-backward swinging will minimize inefficient lateral movements.

Head and posture. Your head leads and guides its body below. Keep your head up and neck stretched tall and long. Unlike owls, humans are blessed with eyes that move independently from the head, so you can still look at the ground without titling the head down. The entire body – from the ankles up to the tip of the head – should form a strong, continuous line, without kinks from poor posture or bending at the waist. Imagine being lifted upwards, suspended by a bird or plane (or pick your favorite flying power-creature) directly above your head.

PUTTING IT ALL TOGETHER

Now it’s time to integrate these elements into your perfect running form! This video from the Natural Running Center is a beautiful example of a strong, efficient stride. Revisit this video and try to mimic Mark’s fluid, light motion whenever you need a refresher.

The final key to optimizing your stride is forgetting everything you just read and just run. Yes, I am (mostly) serious. Sometimes less can be more in terms of tapping into your optimal gait. Running is one of the most natural movements for humans, and a strong, healthy body will readily fall into it’s own unique running stride. Obsessing about every component of your form will not only take the joy out of running, but can also backfire, inducing unnecessary tension or forced, inefficient motor patterns. If you find this occurring while tweaking your running mechanics, abandon the effort and simply allow your body move fluidly and aimlessly. You might find that your muscles were one step ahead of your mind, and knew the route to efficient running all along.

Join us for the final session of our Barefoot Running Workshop series Sunday, July 12 at 3 pm. As usual, we’ll meet at the Founder’s Statue at the northwest corner of Balboa and El Prado in Balboa Park. In this final session, we’ll wrap up with how best to run hills and do speed work, as well as safety and practical considerations of running barefoot. More details and RSVP here.

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Barefoot Running Workshop 1: Myths, Sensations, Foot-strike

Thanks to the awesome crew who attended my first Barefoot Running Workshop, lessons were learned and loads of barefoot fun was had! We dispelled myths, explored the pleasantness of soft pine needles and the not-so-pleasantness of hot, rough pavement, and most importantly, left with happy, dirty feet.

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As a recap for attendees or those interested in future workshops, below is an overview of the highlights from our first session. In this introductory meeting, we covered: 1) the facts and fiction of barefoot running, 2) the importance of sensory feedback and awareness, and 3) mechanics of the foot (don’t fret … we’re not foot-centric and will address mechanics above the foot in the next workshop).

BAREFOOT RUNNING: FACT & FICTION

MYTH 1. Barefoot running will cure my injuries.

Fact: Injuries are often the result of training errors, such as overtraining or incorrect form. Taking off your shoes can’t compensate for these mistakes, but the increased awareness and sensations from being barefoot can help you better listen to your body and train smarter.

MYTH 2: Barefoot running causes foot fractures, Achilles tears and calf strains.

Fact: Running carries a risk of injury, regardless of what is or is not on your feet. There are certainly reports of sustaining such injuries when running barefoot, but these are almost always due to transitioning too aggressively, or doing too much too soon (see also here and here). A gradual, conservative transition while respecting your body’s warning signs will let you run safely and injury-free.

MYTH 3: Barefoot running is just another fad and a gimmick.

Fact: Barefoot running is as old as man, and was how humans first began running. Conventional running shoes are only a very recent invention (introduced only in the 1970’s with the advent of recreational jogging). Despite misleading marketing, the cushioned soles and raised heels of typical running shoes have never been shown to improve running or prevent injury (See Pete Larson’s great book for more on the science of running shoes).

MYTH 4: I will cut my feet on glass, step on rocks or catch a disease.

Fact: Sure, these are possibilities, but the ground is much less dangerous than the fear-mongerers will have you believe! Most of the earth is not, in fact, littered with broken glass and dirty needles. You will quickly learn to automatically pay attention to your surroundings to easily avoid such dangers. Your feet will also become more resilient against lesser dangers like stones, twigs or gravel.

MYTH 5: I need to build up calluses to toughen up my feet for barefoot running.

Fact: Calluses results from excess friction and are a sign of poor form. If you develop calluses or blisters, you are likely shearing, shuffling or pounding excessively. Over time your skin will become thicker and more resilient, but should not be rough or callused.

MYTH 6: Barefoot running will make me a faster or more efficient runner.

Fact: While barefoot running will change how you run and is unlikely to impair it, there is conflicting evidence as to whether it will improve or not affect your running economy. When first learning to run barefoot, the body will naturally demand a slower pace and reduced mileage. But as the body adapts over time, runners will gradually return to their earlier performance level. One’s response to going bare depends on many factors, including training history, running conditions and distance.

MYTH 7: You cannot run competitively or quickly barefoot.

Fact: There have many exceptional competitive barefoot runners throughout history, including Abebe Bikala (winner of the 1960 Olympic marathon in Rome) and the 1980’s Olympian Zola Budd.

MYTH 8: It’s best to run barefoot on the grass or sand.

Fact: If you’re looking for a bit of fun, go ahead and frolic barefoot through a grassy park or along the beach. But if your aim is to learn proper running form, stick to firm ground. Soft surfaces – just like cushioned shoes – can encourage lazy technique, particularly heel striking and heavy landing, and may even be more stressful to the body. Firm, even surfaces will provide the best feedback and sensations to train your neuromuscular system to run well.

MYTH 9: I can get the same benefits from minimalist shoes, without the risks of going barefoot.

Fact: Running in footwear – yes, even the most minimal shoe – will change how your run. Zero drop and thin-soled shoes carry certain advantages over conventional shoes, but a key benefit of being barefoot is the rich sensory feedback from your skin. You cannot experience these benefits with rubber between your foot and the earth.

MYTH 10: I can’t run barefoot because I’m flat-footed, overweight, too old, etc …

Fact: Anyone can run barefoot, regardless of age, shape or size. Running barefoot naturally encourages you to run lighter, easing the impact on your joints and tissues. Weak feet result from disuse, and will quickly become stronger with foot exercises and barefoot activities.

SENSATIONS

Enhanced sensory input lies at the heart of the many benefits of barefoot running. To maximally reap these benefits, we must become aware of our body’s response to the environment. What do you feel when running on concrete, pavement, gravel, dirt or grass? How about on hot, cold or wet surfaces? How do your sensory experience and gait change on various terrains? Note any sensitivity on the skin of your feet, your sense of stability and your proprioception. Do you run more lightly, quickly or fluidly on any particular surface?

AWARENESS

Along with intensifying sensory experiences, running barefoot also heightens awareness of your internal and external environments. Running requires constant feedback to the body from its surroundings, and listening to these messages is key to safe, healthy and strong running. Take advantage of all your senses – especially your vision, hearing and touch – to maintain contact with your external environment. With a bit of practice you will begin to automatically scan for hazards (rocks, thorns, traffic, cyclists or playing children!) and for the optimal placement of your next step. At the same time, your internal awareness will naturally increase. Acknowledging your body’s responses to the environment will help refine your form, correct mechanical errors and prevent injury. If something feels off, play with your stride until you regain fluidity. But if you feel you’re pushing too far, listen to your body’s call for rest.

BIOMECHANICS I: THE FOOT

Foot-strike. What part of the foot touches first (forefoot, heel, midfoot)? Barefoot running encourages a mid- to forefoot strike, which research suggests may beneficially redistribute impact forces compared to heel-striking. However, there’s still no clear consensus over the “right” foot strike, or whether it even matters for injury prevention or performance.

Do you land more on the outside or inside of the foot? A natural strike will involve both pronation and supination, beginning with a slight inward roll followed by an outward roll at push-off. As these motions should come naturally, it is best not to force them, but to focus on landing with the whole foot at once. A helpful tool is visualizing the foot as a tripod; it is most stable when all three corners – the base of the big toe, base of the little toe and the heel – all contact the ground together.

Relax. Are the feet tense or relaxed? The feet may clench as a defense mechanism, especially on rough terrain. This can be dangerous and lead to excessive foot slapping, heavy impact and foot or shin pain. Relax the ankle and let the foot land softly.

Lift, don’t push. Do the feet push off or pound the ground? They should instead touch only briefly, followed by an immediate lift. The overall motion of the foot should be upwards, lifting from the ground rather than slamming downwards. This will prevent shuffling, shearing or twisting, which can lead to blisters or calluses.

Over-striding. Where do the feet land relative to your center-of-mass? They should land directly beneath the hips, not in front. Over-striding – or striking with the feet too far forward – is one of the most common sources of running injuries.

Cadence. Are the feet turning over rapidly? Aim for a high cadence (turnover rate), as this may help minimize impact forces and improve efficeincy. 180 steps per minute is roughly considered ideal.

Check out the recap from our second session, in which covered the fundamentals of running form, including lower and upper body mechanics. In our third and final session July 12, we’ll explore hills and speed and practical concerns of barefoot running.

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San Diego Barefoot Running Workshops

I’m thrilled to announce … the first in a series of FREE San Diego Barefoot Running Workshops!

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THE MOTIVATION

This past International Barefoot Running Day, the small crew of San Diego barefoot runners gathered to share our love for natural running. This was my third consecutive year celebrating #IBRD and each year I come away with a renewed appreciation for the barefoot running community and new insights into how to maximally reap the benefits of the practice. Each of us have come from distinct backgrounds, have traversed unique paths and have made our own discoveries along the way, but we’ve all arrived at the same conclusion … Barefoot running is the way for us. For several months I’ve been toying with the idea of how best to share the lessons I’ve garnered from barefoot running with others in the hopes that they too may experience similar joy and growth. Reuniting with other barefooters last weekend reaffirmed the conviction that sharing these experiences and supporting others in their barefoot journeys is a worthy endeavor. As such, I’d like to invite you to participate in my San Diego Barefoot Running Workshop Series. These workshops are crafted with the novice barefooter in mind, but will ideally also serve as a welcoming environment for all – even lifelong barefooters – to nurture their evolution as strong, healthy, empowered runners.

WORKSHOP FORMAT AND AIMS

This first (beta-series, if you will) of workshops will comprise three meet-ups, each session focusing on a unique aspect of barefoot-running form, training and lifestyle. Each session will involve discussion and drills, and will conclude with a short fun-run to put into practice what we’ve learned. These runs will be designed to develop technique, rather than speed or endurance, so they will be short, easy and appropriate for runners of all levels. The workshops will be spaced apart (between two to four weeks) to allow runners sufficient time between sessions to incorporate lessons into their training. They will be casual, interactive and collaborative, with the hope that all participants will share their knowledge and experiences, and continue to learn from one another. The ultimate aim is to re-discover the pure, basic joy of running, by reinforcing natural movement patterns, learning safe training practices and increasing awareness of our bodies and environment.

Workshop #1 will take place Sunday, May 31 at 3 pm in Balboa Park.

We’ll meet at the Founder’s statue at the northwest corner of Balboa and El Prado. Please wear comfortable clothing (but leave your shoes at home!) and bring any hydration or supplies that you’d like. We’ll schedule the time, frequency and location of future workshops based on feedback from this first session. If you have suggestions for topics you’d like covered or how these workshops should be organized, please comment below. If you plan to attend (which I hope you do!) please RSVP at the Facebook event page, and please pass this along to other runners or barefoot enthusiasts. I’m looking forward to sharing the joys of barefoot running with you!

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The structure-function paradox: Thoughts from a barefoot-curious reader

One perk I’ve enjoyed since starting this blog has been connecting with like-minded readers … runners, barefooters and scientists. Occasionally readers will reach out with their personal stories or questions (which I love!) The other day I received an email from a reader curious about the importance of toe and metatarsal alignment for foot health. His insights into foot biomechanics, enthusiasm for optimizing his own barefoot experience, and curiosity for the best path to do so – were striking. As he raised some interesting questions that are relevant for anyone considering transitioning to a barefoot lifestyle, I’m sharing his message, along with my response, below (note that I’ve removed his name for privacy and have trimmed the email for brevity).

I’d like to say thank you so much for documenting your experience, it is an invaluable source of information. I have great investment in this movement for myself (patellar tendonitis, fallen arches), and my family (bunion sufferers). I’m going to cut right to the chase. You seem very knowledgeable about the biomechanics of the foot, and I feel there is a significant sliver in the venn— diagram between our two philosophies. What about our toes alignment with our metatarsal shafts?

This is an idea that I see very rarely addressed among barefoot runners. I’m not sure how much of this information you’re familiar with, probably all of it but just in case I’m going to breeze through it. The shod VS the unshod life, a developed condition. I feel like this is so often ignored. In my rehabilitation from conventional footwear, I’ve been made aware of the deformation that has taken place in my bones and tendons that has bent my big toe inward, bent my small toes outward, and given me hammertoe. Why do I see so few barefoot runners addressing this? I work everyday to stretch and re-align my great toe into its natural place, a continuation of the metatarsal shaft, so that it can once again be in its place of maximum support.

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I even invested in a product that re-alignes my toes back to the way they were, so as to, over time, affect the bone and tendon structure, pushing them back into alignment. But seeing your story, how you came through without the use of these, and how your toe alignment between 2011 and 2012 didn’t seem to change much. In your recent pictures it’s hard to discern the alignment of your toes, have you seen a difference since 2012?

Does this idea hold water to you at all or do you consider something else entirely more important than alignment. I would love to know, I’ve been trying to make sense of going completely barefoot, but with my great toe alignment (about the same as yours in 2012) it just doesn’t make sense to me, I feel like I’d be putting weight on a delicate system that no longer is in the proper alignment to do its job properly. Am I completely off the mark? Any thoughts would be extremely appreciated.

I love this last picture, and it is the most profound and affirming to me, a (mostly) un-contacted tribe within the amazon. Their toes are my every day goal. I know little biomechanics, but this has philosophy has resonated with me. Am I wasting my time with this? Is this new information to you? What made you feel your path was best?

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MY RESPONSE:

Thanks for your email. I love hearing from others with a shared interest in natural, barefoot living. Indeed, I’m aware of the deformations shoes make on our feet, and that toe separators can help reverse this (I actually have some myself).

I think the answer to most of your questions lies in your goal. If your main aim is simply to realign your bone structure, then sure, work on this just the way you are. For me, better toe/metatarsal alignment has been an incidental consequence of pursuing my other goals – overall healthier, stronger feet that allow me to move the way my body is meant to. So there are two, albeit related, issues here: structure and function. You seem very focused on changing your foot structure, but for what purpose? If it’s so that your foot (and body) will also move better, the best way to achieve that is simply to use your feet the way they’re meant to be used. By going barefoot as much as possible you will quickly build muscle, tendon and bone strength and as a consequence, your foot shape will also change.

I gave up shoes four years ago and have indeed noticed major changes since then. The toe splay hasn’t been dramatic, but my arches have become strong and high and my feet and ankles have gone from soft and dainty looking, to thick, toned and defined. This sounds odd, but my feet have become my favorite physical asset – I’m proud of their transformation into powerful, beautiful structures. At this point, I could care less how my toes splay, since my feet are functioning magnificently, allowing me to walk and run for miles on end, pain-free and carefree!

You’re concerned that you could injure yourself by going barefoot if your bone alignment isn’t perfect. This is a slight possibility, but easily avoided by simply listening to your body. I would be concerned less about proper alignment than general foot weakness. The risks of walking or running barefoot excessively before you’re ready come from inadequate strength, and the only way to strengthen your feet is to use them! Sure, going out and sprinting a 5k for your first barefoot run will injure you. Instead, go for a short walk until your feet start to fatigue. Then call it a day. Or run around the block for 2 minutes. Give yourself enough rest to allow your feet to recover and rebuild before you try again. Over time, you’ll be able to walk further, run longer and start noticing remarkable changes in how your feet feel, look and function. When I gave up shoes in 2011 I couldn’t walk barefoot more than a few minutes before my feet hurt. I walked barefoot for a couple years to build up base strength, then began running barefoot – literally starting by running one block. I now regularly run 40-45 miles a week barefoot.

I seem to have written a novel, but this is an important and interesting topic for me! My last tidbit of advice is to not over-think it … just enjoy the improved sensory experience and awareness your feet give you and savor the growth, however gradual it may be. Happy barefooting!

What are your thoughts on the relative importance of foot structure and function, and how they influence one another?

I love hearing my readers’ experiences and questions, so please don’t hesitate to reach out!

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Return to racing, bare and proud!

As I crossed the finish line of the San Diego Half Marathon this past Sunday, I choked back the tears as a powerful flood of emotion overcame me. Two years ago at this time, I was recovering from my second metatarsal stress fracture, just one of a series of severe injuries that kept me sidelined from racing – and nearly from running at all. Over the previous two years, I had tried – and failed – to treat my torn achilles, peroneal and extensor tendonitis, hip bursitis, metatarsal stress reaction and two fractures, by experimenting with every therapy in the books and every shoe available (seriously, you should have seen my shoe rack). My running accomplishments had rapidly diminished from regular marathons to hobbling a few painful miles at best. Each successive injury was followed by yet another, sending me faster into a downward spiral of intensifying hopelessness, as it appeared that my running days were nearing their end.

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Running rebirth

There was a deeper imbalance that was untreatable by rest, physical therapy or new shoes. It was time to hit the reset button and retrain myself to run … from scratch. When I vowed to give up shoes a year and a half ago (September 7, 2013 to be exact) I was terrified. This meant intentionally reducing my mileage to frustratingly low levels and risking more broken bones or worse (as the media promised, with headlines to the tune of “Barefoot Running Can Cause Injuries, Too” and “Barefoot Running Injuries: Doctors See Health Problems Ranging From Stress Fractures To Pulled Calf Muscles“). Although I had been dabbling in running barefoot for a year or so prior, I had approached it as a casual occasional training tool to improve my form, not to mention have a little childlike fun on the side! It seemed unsustainable for the distances and regularity I had been logging and longed to return to. Yet, as every conventional option had failed me, the novelty and craziness of barefoot running offered just the glimmer of hope I needed.

As I progressed through my barefoot journey, the initial apprehension quickly wore off. The requisite patience was offset both by the thrill of running painlessly and freely, as well as by the small, victorious milestones along the way. I vividly remember the satisfaction of completing my first barefoot mile, the giddiness after my first 5-miler and the astonishment after finishing my first 10-miler. The experiment was working!

Racing: The missing piece

Yet, although I had overcome the chronic injuries and – most importantly – had regained my love for running, there was still a missing piece to my inner runner. Due to the incessant injuries, followed by the gradual transition to barefoot running, I hadn’t seriously raced since my last marathon over three years ago. I knew from others’ experiences that returning to full performance (in terms of distance and speed) after switching from shod to barefoot running can take years – around a decade by some estimates. While I dreamed of returning to racing, I was admittedly terrified. Foremost, my barefoot training required a new level of control and precaution, forcing me to limit my terrain mostly to smooth pavement and concrete, and to abandon speed and distance goals. But further, racing for me has always been a chance to explore and test my physical and mental limits. Barefoot racing was uncharted territory and I feared the disappointment if I were to fail that test.

Soon, this race anxiety was overpowered by annoyance with the anxiety, and fed up with my complacency, I took the plunge. My body may never be “perfectly” barefoot-race-ready, but my mind was itching to race. With more excitement than perhaps for any past race, I spontaneously registered for the San Diego Half Marathon, just a couple weeks out. I had been warned by a fellow barefoot runner of some rough spots, but refused to check out the course in advance. Ignorance can indeed be bliss. I was anxious enough, and preferred to bask in blind eagerness than further worry myself.

Taper despair

To my despair, a week from race day as I began to taper, I developed an odd forefoot issue: tight, burning metatarsal heads and painful, tingly first and second toes (I suspect this was related to clumsily wacking my foot on a curb weeks prior, but we’ll never know). The two days before the race, the ‘injury’ peaked and I was hobbling in pain. The mental battle raged, as I weighed the risks and benefits of showing up at the starting line – a painful, miserable, slow run, versus intense disappointment and regret.

Race morning, my foot still ached. But I had to try. The buzz at the starting line reaffirmed my decision, as the shared anticipation amongst the running community flooded me with excitement.

Mile 1: My big toe ached. “Already? Ugh. Why I am I here again?” By mile 2 the pain was gone.

Mile 3: A rough stretch of nasty road. What would have typically ripped up my feet now barely fazed me as I focused intently on light, relaxed form.

Mile 5: Drained and anxious. My foot had been acting up around mile 4-5 in my training runs, and I anticipated the end of my race was near. “This race was such an idiotic decision. I’m injured and tired … there’s just no way this will end well. I’ll most certainly end up more severely hurt, and for what? To prove that I can race barefoot?” But the energy of the runners and spectators propelled me forward, and the constant stream of “Barefoot … thats awesome!” and “Look, she’s barefoot!” reminded me that not only could I do it, I was doing it.

Mile 6.5: Half way already? The foot still felt fine.

Mile 9: After an ugly stretch of not-so-well maintained pavement crossing the 5 freeway, “the hill” appeared. As the 300-foot ascent began and runners around me began to walk, I savored the smooth concrete under my feet as I climbed steadily. But as I peaked to flat ground, I felt a painful ‘pebble’ under my big toe. After a couple of minutes I pulled aside to wipe it away, but there was no pebble. My already finicky flexor tendon had apparently been irritated by the hill, but with only 3 miles to go, I had to push through.

Mile 11: The course weaved through my neighborhood, and as I passed by the cheering onlookers at my typical weekend coffee spot, the pride hit me. I could have been one of those spectators myself, sipping my tea with regret. But not today.

To the finish: Perhaps the most frustrating stretch of the race was the downhill finish. I felt exceptionally strong, but had put on some slight breaks to avoid tearing up the quads, calves and of course, feet.

13.1: I crossed the finish line with deeper gratitude than at perhaps any other race. Compared to my shod days, I hadn’t run particularly fast, and the distance was nothing remarkable, but I had broken another type of PR. After years of being sidelined by injury, I was back in the game. That missing piece to my inner runner was finally found. I was no longer transitioning to barefoot running … I was there. I was a real runner once again … strong, healthy and basking in the post-race passion of the running community that I so missed.

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2014 in running: Patience, growth and healing

I never run with gadgets of any sort – no watches, GPS or music for me. Yet, as a scientist, I’m a sucker for crunching numbers and plotting data, both in the lab and to evaluate my running progress. It should be no surprise, then, that I track my mileage rigorously. There’s something deeply satisfying about visualizing those tranquil, meditative hours on the road as fluid points on a graph. Please indulge me, therefore, as I open this review of my past year in running with some data fun!

I ran a total of 1760 miles this year, 93% (1628) of which were barefoot … that is, skin to earth … bringing me to a total of 2632 lifetime barefoot miles. Given the rule of changing your running shoes every 300-500 miles, I’d say I’m well overdue for a new pair of feet. The remaining 132 miles were traversed in socks, Sockwas, chainmail Paleo Barefoots, huaraches or Skoras. I reached peak mileage in November with a 45 mile week, also my highest weekly mileage since transitioning to barefoot running. Compared to my shod-running days, these stats are underwhelming. Back in my marathon training years, I regularly logged 60-70+ mile weeks, typically including a 20-ish mile weekend long run. However, I’m more proud of these recent miles than any before.

After a couple years of unsuccessfully dabbling in minimalist (and a touch of barefoot) running, on September 7, 2013 I committed to abandon my shoes for good. I was frustrated with chronic injuries and had come to dread and resent running; the one activity that had formerly fueled and impassioned me was only leaving me injured and depressed. The past 15+ months have offered their own series of challenges, testing my patience as I essentially relearned to run, retraining my body to move with proper biomechanics, and to listen attentively to my body’s warnings of overtaining or incipient injury. Over the course of the year, this transition developed into a transformation; as I lost my addiction to shoes I also lost the chronic injuries and rediscovered that fresh, genuine joy to running that first hooked me as a runner. My total mileage is now lower, and my “long” runs are now shorter – currently on the order of 10-14 miles. However, these have been some of the most liberating, fun and insightful miles of my running career.

Perhaps most importantly, they’ve also been the healthiest miles in many years. In contrast to 2012 and 2013, during which I respectively lost five months and five weeks to metatarsal stress reactions and fractures, I took no time off from a running injury in 2014. Compare the erratic green and blue lines in the below graph to the stable, steady red line of this year. Not only have I found freedom from injury, but in just a year, I’ve built up to running comparable volumes as the year prior (1781 total miles in 2013), when I only logged half of my miles barefoot, and am running 65% higher volume than 2012 (1063 total miles), when I squeaked out only 10% of my miles barefoot. In fairness, 2014 included periods of voluntary reduced mileage while babying the occasional niggle, along with a few days of forced rest to recover from a foot infection and PRP injections for a chronic hamstring issue.

2012-14_Mileage

I haven’t raced once this year, and honestly, I couldn’t care less. Despite an absence of race medals and PRs, I’ve accomplished – no, exceeded – each of my running goals this year. I no longer train to race, or to reach arbitrary distance or speed milestones. I run because it fills me with life. I run to feel the essence of existence fully and intensely – sometimes while soaring, floating or flying – other times while cursing through the struggle between body and mind to quit or to push through one more step. In the end, the patience and growth have all been worth it, to feel my body, mind and spirit soaring together in unison, an effect unparalleled by any drug.

This review may be filled with numbers, but I write it to remind myself and my runner readers that running is about so much more than time and distance. There are always new ways to grow, new trails to explore and new power to discover within yourself. On the eve of a new year, I wish you all a rewarding running journey in 2015 replete with your own evolution and adventures.

Happy, healthy trails ahead to all my wonderful readers!

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It finally happened

Ever since I went barefoot over three years ago, I’ve scoffed at the “Aren’t you afraid you’ll catch a disease or infection?” comments. Ridiculous, I thought. I don’t walk around with open foot wounds, and my feet aren’t a bacterial highway to my orifices. After this past week, however, I’m realizing that maybe a little fear would have served me well.

Here’s an abbreviated version of my real-life horror-story to scare a little caution into the barefooting community.

Saturday: Post-dinner stomach rumbles evolved into suspected food poisoning. I’ll spare you the details, but any food sent me an immediate angry message that kept me miserable and sleep-deprived for three days.

Tuesday morning: Stomach turned a corner for the better, so despite my fatigue and weakness, I attempted a run. Managed 8 miles but noticed a mild heel ache. Did I bruise it without noticing? Was it a hint of plantar fasciitis? I had sustained a minuscule cut on that heel a week ago, but that had healed. Not overly concerned, I did some gentle self-massage and slathered some DMSO – a controversial chemical thought to promote soft-tissue healing – over the heel and ankle. I then went about my day, walking barefoot and pleased that I was back up and running again.

Tuesday evening: Foot had gotten progressively worse and I’m feeling notably drained. Must have overdone it with the run. Right before bed, my groin region begins to hurt and I’m feeling chilled and achy. 101.5° fever. A little internet research educates me that swollen lymph nodes in the groin indicate injury to the foot or leg. The pieces of the puzzle are starting to fit together.

Infected foot. The doctor's outline shows the extent of the infection.

Infected foot. The doctor’s outline shows the extent of the infection.

Wednesday: I awaken to some rapidly spreading and intensifying foot pain, leading to a trip to the ER. It’s an infection, the doc confirms, and gently suggests I run in shoes. I respectfully tell him I’ll opt for this over chronic fractures and tendonitis. He accepts my decision, prescribes an antibiotic and tells me I’ll be feeling better by the morning.

Drip. Drip. Two hours of antibiotics directly into the bloodstream.

Drip. Drip. Two hours of antibiotics directly into the bloodstream.

Thursday: I awaken to a throbbing foot and the terrifying sight of deep red streaks climbing up my ankle. Back to the ER it is, hopping on one foot most of the way. They give me an IV of vancomycin (an antibiotic) and release me six hours later with prescriptions for two more antibiotics. So. Many. Drugs.

Fast forward two days later, and I can almost walk normally. The infection’s under control and the swelling has mostly subsided, though there’s an ugly patch of broken blood vessels and bruising that’s tight and tender to the touch. Thank god for modern medicine. The alternative of losing a limb (or worse) to a simple infection – a reality that our ancestors and many less fortunate populations around the world today still deal with – is humbling and sobering. That’s a topic for another day.

So what caused the infection? The docs didn’t really care to look into it, but assumed it was the old cut on my heel. I suspect otherwise, as the infection never actually extended to the cut itself. The other possibility, that admittedly creeps me out, is that the DMSO – a “universal solvent” – absorbed some nastiness from the outside world directly into my skin and bloodstream. The chemical is not approved for medical use on humans, apparently for good reason. I’ll never know the exact cause, but my DMSO is enjoying its new home in the trash.

“I told you so!” I can hear you all crying in anti-barefoot triumph. Not so fast. Incidentally, I sustained a similarly serious foot infection a decade ago from a blister caused by … poorly fitting shoes. Life happens, unpredictably and uncontrollably, shod or barefoot. As abandoning my shoes and rediscovering the power of my feet has introduced so much strength, health and joy into my running and everyday life, re-embracing shoes is nowhere on the horizon. Sure, barefoot running carries its unique set of risks. But I’ll take the occasional bruise and fluke infection over repeated broken bones and torn tendons any day.

Stay safe and run happy!

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