I run three days a week, during lunch hour at work. Each run is 4.5 miles.
Over the past couple of years I’ve been reading up on “barefoot running.” So I gave it a try last Friday.
“This is great,” I said to myself during the first mile. And then I felt something on the bottom of my left foot. Felt like a pebble was lodged in my skin. I stopped and inspected my foot. No pebble. It was… skin.
It hadn’t been 10 minutes, and I was already developing a big ol’ blister.
So now it’s Saturday evening, and I am still limping due to the damn blister.
Lesson learned: if you decide to try barefoot running, start out… slowly.
I walk and run with Vibram five-finger “barefoot” shoes, both on the street and on the treadmill. I love them.
I recognize that the science isn’t exactly solid on this, but they feel great for me. I’m an overweight but active male in my mid-30s (about 6’, 250 lbs), and I typically run 2 to 3 miles at a 9 to 10 minute-per-mile pace. Not exactly world beating speed.
I’ve run and walked with them for about a year. I find them incredibly comfortable for walking around town, and equally good for running. Occasionally I step on a rock and it hurts. I’ve had no significant joint or foot problems, running 2 to 3 times per week, and walking around town a few times a week (not so much in the winter).
I highly recommend them, but my office-mates who are hardcore runners (5-10 miles or more at 6-8 minute pace) are aghast and horrified, especially considering my bodyweight – they talk about the amount of force with each step, and how regular running shoes are needed to absorb the shock. But until I notice any problems, I’ll keep wearing them.
I’ve been doing it for about 15 years. Both totally barefoot and with vibrams. I’ve run marathons both ways. I recommend starting off with vibRams to work on your form before trying barefoot. Just one or two miles at a time. Your feet need yo strengthen, and your Achilles’ tendon needs to lengthen.
We spent of the two million years of our history as a species running barefoot, and we are incredibly well adapted to it. Spending a lifetime with your feet encased in shoes is like spending a lifetime with your arm in a cast. In either case you suffer atrophy and weakening of the restricted limb. It takes a long time to recover from this, and going very slow is the key.
Now I have a much more natural and efficient stride. I’m faster barefoot than in shoes, as wearing shoes is liking strapping ankle weights on.
My arches are higher. My toes splay and are no longer mushed together, and the balls of my feet have developed a thick, tough but soft callous like layer.
Perhaps the most interesting thing I’ve noticed is that my heels no longer touch the ground when I run. Try running barefoot on your heels and stepping on a pebble, and you’ll instantly understand. Heel striking is incredibly hard on your joints and only possible in today’s cushioned shoes. The natural stride is forward on the front half of the foot. Once you master that, it’s incredible how much easier and smoother your stride is. Even though I wear shoes on each of the 50 mile races I’ve run, I never could have done it if it weren’t for the barefoot running which helped my stride.
Often I say “pics or it didn’t happen” but this time I could have done without. That’s an ugly one.
A friend is a barefoot everything but he grew up that way. I swear by all that’s holy, he can walk on gravel and never notice. It may be a great thing but its one of those hard to develop talents.
I really enjoy going on walks barefoot, but I can’t imagine running that way-- too hard to avoid stepping on pebbles and twigs and various other ouchy things.
Barefoot running can be great for some people, who ease into it with proper body mechanics. It’s not, as far as anyone knows, particularly better or worse than normal running. Any reasonable experts say, pretty much, ‘eh, it’s probably okay, but for god’s sake don’t leap into it unprepared.’ This trend of acting as if wearing shoes is a terrible thing needs to die a quick death.
Uh, two million years ago “we” looked something like this. It doesn’t matter how they got about, since anatomically modern humans (i.e., the same body mechanics as you and I have) have only been around for about 200,000 years.
When we did start running, it was on natural terrain: dirt and grass. Not paved surfaces. Not treadmills. Not rubberized tracks.
We’ve been wearing shoes for long enough for our feet to adapt to them. Has the design of shoes changed? Obviously, yes. Are shoes some sort of unnatural abomination and running without them is inherently better? Uh, no.
On rough surfaces, running on the balls of my feet was more comfortable than letting the soft small of my foot wrap around sticks or stones.
You don’t land on your heals, so you don’t need shock-absorbers in the heals of your shoes: the impact is held in your tendons, which are excellent springs, and you get the energy back when you lift off.
Bricks are harder than Bitumen. Wood is softer than concrete
And I habitually, ceaselessly, without thought, watched where I was putting my feet.
He’s a little funny looking, but I’ve met weirder looking people. That pic doesn’t show his feet. I don’t think you’ve actually said anything contradictory.
Desert hard pan is pretty damn close to concrete. The jfk50 is 18 miles on natural trail, 26 on a gravel trail and the rest on a road. The road is by far the easiest surface to run barefoot on. The harder the surface the better the spring. Again, I’m failing to see the argument here.
I don’t hate shoes. Spending time, and running some barefoot, mixing it up has improved my overall fitness, and running ability. What I’m saying.
I just put on the ol’ minimalist sandals for the first time this year, a couple of weeks ago, and I didn’t get very far before I felt that burning sensation you get before it turns into a blister, so I stopped. Have to work up to it a little. Get those calluses going. I don’t run in huaraches in the winter because my feet get too cold (and if there is snow and stuff I don’t run at all; I do walk my dog though, but wearing boots).
