Foot Fetish (part 1)

I can't run in sneakers.  Wait, scratch that... I won't run in sneakers.  I use to run in them until I joined an underground, mysterious, evil cult hellbent on the dismantling and utter destruction of the sneaker industry.  That's right, I became (cue the ominous music - dum dum DUM!) a minimalist runner.  No, that doesn't mean I try to run as little as possible; although at the beginning that did cross my mind.  I quit running in sneakers.  Cold-turkey.  No hypnosis.  No patch.  No gum.  Cold-turkey, and there is no going back.

KSOs:  my first pair.
This was my gateway shoe.

It's been over a year since I quit my traditional running sneaker for my Vibram FiveFingers, since I became a minimalist, since I went from running 3 miles a month to running at least 20 a week.  My Vibrams, dirty, torn, and well-worn, sit next to my Mizunos, which have been staring longingly at me.  I can almost hear them whispering, "Run with us, run with us... feel our cushiony embrace, our secure laces... come back to us..."  If I did I would probably roll an ankle.  Mizunos are vindictive like that; but not my foot gloves, my toe shoes, my precious, smelly Vibrams.

They love me like no other, but, like most new relationships, there were some hurdles to overcome, some challenges faced, some pain endured.  Free runners all advise that you run much shorter distances then you usually do when you first start with minimalist shoes (or barefoot). They're right.  Running less wasn't a problem for me.  If I ran any less I'd be sitting.  So I started running up to a mile at a time and, trust me, that was enough.  By the end of the first week my calves, achilles, and arches of my feet hated me.  By the end of the first month I didn't know if I made the correct choice because my legs and feet hurt so badly.  By the end of my first season, I was hooked on Vibrams.  The initial pain was gone and replaced with a sense of purpose and a goal.  If I can move away from sneakers, could I move away from footwear altogether?  Could I go "pure"?  Could I be entirely "free"?  Could I use more "double quotes" in my sentences?  Only time will tell.

KSO Treks: one of my current pairs.
Used for obstacle races.  Receives
the most "What the hell are those?"

Before I have all the haters and nay-sayers start in on me about the dangers of minimalist running... that there is not enough evidence supporting its benefits... blah-blah-blah, let me start by saying, "It's not for everyone."  With that said, if you continue to berate us who are revolutionaries free-thinkers freakin' awesome bucking conventional running wisdom and throwing aside the best sports and physiological scientific studies Big Sneaker can buy, I will be forced to caress you with my calloused toes.

Seriously, it's not for everyone.  If you love and are successful running in your child slave labor asian foot-binding corporate slave high-end, shock absorbing sneaks, all the power to you.  Run and run well, my shod friend; but, if you, like me, find it uncomfortable running  in those thick, heavy, clod-hoppers, or running with back, knee, and ankle pain is not your cup o' tea, and long for a deeper, more meaningful - nay, spiritual, connection with the terrain o'er which we run, then maybe minimalism is the path for you.

Bikilas: my other current pair.
Used for road races.  Voted "coolest"
footwear by kids living in my house.

I feel I must warn you, potential devotee, before you dash toes first into your nearest foot glove: it's all or nothing.  You cannot bounce between (or at least I have not been able to) modern sneaker running and minimalist running.  The two, like oil and water, like women and logic, like men and not knowing when to shut up, cannot exist together.  I've tried and failed spectacularly.  I moved back to sneakers when I broke my virgin pair of Vibrams and could not run a mile without tripping and stumbling.  I needed to remove and carry my sneakers just to finish that run.  Yes, even bare-footing was better than sneaker running.

I was a changed man and to this day I only use minimalist footwear.  Moving forward, I might not always use Vibram FiveFingers.  I may try some of the other minimalist flavors and see how they feel.  I may venture out with more barefoot running because who doesn't want to feel the almost sensual touch of hot pavement, gravel, and glass shards on their bare skin?

Either way, one thing is for sure:  Vibrams, you complete me.

The People I've Met Along the Way (Part 3)

Sandbaggers:

You know them.  They say they can't, but do, and do well.  They cry lame, they lag behind, they feign weakness, inexperience, or lack of stamina; until it matters, then pull ahead with the power of a locomotive.  They are the people who try to catch you during the race but fail over and over again, until there's a crowd.  Then they pass you with a smile and a nod.  Damn you, Sandbaggers.  Stop making us feel good about ourselves until the finish line is in sight, when you drop your facetious bag and gallop by stomping our misguided pride into the ground.





Costumers:
It's becoming more and more common in the racing world, well, at least in the world where I race.  As we gather at the starting line you look around and take in the spandex tights, running shorts, wicking shirts, and an adult wearing a banana costume...?  And a ninja?  A banana ninja?  It isn't October.  It isn't Halloween; but that doesn't stop these costumed crusaders from breaking from tradition and running in full costumed gear.  It does make the races more lively and fun, seeing these ridiculous people racing among everyone else, until Banana Ninja passes you.



Old Friends:
Typically I like to comment on the funny and/or annoying people I meet along the way; but recently I was reminded of another category... friends.  Thanks, TJ, for reminding me of a bonus to this Aggressiveness: getting together with people we have not seen in a long time.  Racing has allowed me to meet up with several friends from my past, people whom I have not seen since high school which was waaayyyyy back then.  It reminds us that time and space may separate us, but history and shared experiences still bond us.  It reminds us that, although our paths have diverged long ago, our commonalities and endeavors will bring us together.   It reminds us that through the hustle and bustle of life we still manage to find little pieces of joy and happiness spent with old friends.  Except for friends who are faster than me.  That's just annoying and not at all funny.