All good things...

... wear out, eventually. The good things in question here are my Vibram KSO "funny shoes." I started this experiment in changing not only my running shoes, but my running style back in January when Christopher MacDougall's book Born to Run started me thinking about how I run. My first pair of VFF's arrived in February, and since then, I've logged just over 300 miles in a wide variety of weather and surface conditions, through three continents:

• Over the snow, ice and "frozen snot" of a central European winter (cold toes)
• Through Prague's ancient cobblestoned streets and forested paths (European toes)
• On the "civilized" asphalt of Oklahoma City and Portland, Oregon, and the gravel paths of the National Mall in Washington DC (patriotic toes)
• For loops around one of our longest airport terminals (one mile long - in Detroit... layover toes)
• Over the treacherous roads, unexpected potholes and hills of San Jose, Costa Rica (Latin toes)

My KSO's took all the abuse I could throw at them over the last seven months and didn't complain. Until, about two weeks ago, I finally worked my way all the way through the rubber sole. A small hole quickly worked its way into a dime-sized spot. Duct tape didn't stick. Rubber patches cut from a piece of scrap, and superglued over the hole didn't last long either. So - I finally broke down and bought a new pair this weekend.

Old faithfuls (L); next generation (R)

I'll throw my old pair in the washing machine one last time, and then demote them from running shoes to "things I can throw on while padding around the house." The hole in the one (left) sole still tells me I haven't quite perfected my "barefootish" running style. There's still too much stuffing and not enough lifting going on. But - I suppose after seven months of use, if I was in regular shoes, I'd be looking at getting a new pair about now anyway.

My goal back in January was to try something new - to run away from nagging running injuries by running without "normal" running shoes. The experiment has succeeded. I now run pain-free (without massive does of anti-inflammatories or cortisone shots!) My heel pain isn't gone - but the only time it bothers me now is when I've taken some time off from running, and spent too much time in my "normal shoes." A couple miles back in my VFF's put me right back on track.

Tomorrow morning, I'll head to work wearing my new pair. They still look and smell clean - but I'm sure that won't last more than a couple days! Here's to the next 300 miles!

Pause... Unpause?

My barefoot-ish running experiment paused a couple weeks ago after my first couple runs in the great outdoors in my Vibram KSO "foot gloves."

The day after my "moment of truth run," foot pain returned. Yuck. It was different foot pain this time though - oddly enough, considering that I'm running close to barefoot, the pain was on the TOP of my foot - go figure.

I quickly turned to my primary healthcare provider (google.com), and came up with all kinds of options - Metatarsal Stress Fractures being the most worrisome. After waiting it out a couple of days with no running (and no improvement), I went to my real healthcare provider (who I probably should have gone to in the first place) who took a quick look and diagnosed my problem as an inflammation of the extensor tendons. She prescribed a high-dose anti-inflammatories (2400 mg of Ibuprofen daily) for 5 days. By day six, I was feeling up to running again, and hit the unpause button on the experiment.

I started slow this time - and for the first two days, ran only half of my 3.75 "commute run" in the VFF's, switching to my regular "old shoes" about 1.5 miles in. Today I ran home the entire way - in a lovely mixture of snow and sleet (Prague's spring hasn't arrived yet), and made it home safe and sound. At least it feels that way so far.

Not sure what caused the tendon problem - I've never had it before, but I have a couple of possibilities:

• It's the shoes - my VFF KSO's have a velcro strap on the top that doesn't have much give, and is (coincidentally) in almost exactly the same spot that my tendons were complaining about. Perhaps it was cinched down too tight?
• It's the shoes (redux) - per "Barefoot Ken Bob", you get pain like this when starting out precisely because you're wearing some kind of shoe and not going completely barefoot. He likens it to "learning a new song while wearing earplugs." He argues that bare feet are going to give you the most direct feedback as to when you're taking things too fast. Good point... but Prague's still a bit to cold and cobbly for me to go foot-naked quite yet.
• It's the weather - my "moment of truth" run was over a nasty mixture of ice, snow, and road snot... all that slipping and sliding might have done bad things.
• It's the gait - this "relearning" how to run is hard work. It's going to take a while to teach my muscles and tendons how to do things they way they used to back when I was a barefooted kid running around the yard.

Whatever it was, I'm watching (and listening to) my foot carefully. Icing up the top of my foot after runs. Loosening the strap on my KSO's. Working on stepping quickly, lightly and gently. A total of seven VFF miles in the past three days, and so far, so good. Some calf pain continues - but much less than in my initial weeks - and I've been trying to work on easing back my landing to the midfoot (from the forefoot), which helps.

Now if this snow would go away, I could start trying out Barefoot Ken Bob's advice and go naked-footing!

Running Wisdom... by Barefoot Ken Bob

Yeah - "Barefoot Ken Bob" really is the name he goes by (at least on his website (http://runningbarefoot.org) I was reading through the site tonight while waiting for my calves to stop complaining about yesterday's first "barefoot-ish" run home, and came across this gem:

Learning to run with shoes on, is like learning a spoken language with ear plugs. You just can’t hear the way the words sound. And with shoes, you just can’t feel your feet touching the ground. And, as far as potential damage to our bodies, that is where the important part of running takes place!

...It is possible to learn to run correctly, while wearing shoes. It is also possible to learn to speak and understand speech while deaf. My wife, is deaf, and she learned to speak. But it is a time-consuming and frustrating chore which requires an almost full-time commitment, as well as having someone else observing, and providing constant feedback, to let us know if we are doing something correctly or incorrectly.

My bias, is of course, to start barefoot. Our feet, after all, are our best coaches. They will remind us immediately, and persistently, when we are running badly. And, when we are running well, our feet will enjoy the run, as much as the rest of our body, especially, if our feet are not being imprisoned inside shoes!

His article on "How to Run Barefoot" is a great primer on why barefoot (or "barefoot-ish") running makes sense biomechanically, and on how to get started. This is a guy who's run more than 70 marathons barefoot, so you get the idea that he kinda knows what he's talking about. If you're interested in making the move away from your running shoes, it's well worth the read!

The moment of truth

As the snow and ice has been melting away in Prague this last week, I've been taking my Vibram KSO's out into the cobblestoned streets of Prague. I'm not sure what's been more fun - feeling the cobblestones, patches of ice and gravel under my feet, or watching the double-takes from unsuspecting tourists who happen to glance down at my feet as they wander the streets of Prague. They're really not sure what to make of my new "funny shoes."

Up until today though, I'd taken it pretty easy. But today was it - the moment of truth. As the sun shone bright and temps crept up towards the 50's today, I really had no excuse anymore. No excuse, that is, not to resume my regular commute-run back home.

At just under four miles, it's not a long run. It more than makes up for that in variety though - over 450 feet of elevation gain, cobblestoned streets, stairs, asphalt, sidewalk and even a brief trail run. And the killer bit? The last 3/4 mile uphill. It's a run I do 3-4 times a week when the streets aren't icy... but this time, I'd be doing it "barefoot-ish" for the first time - in my new 10-toed "shoes."

How'd it go? It certainly makes for a much more tactile experience. You actually feel the curve of each cobblestone. You know exactly where the gravel left over from the last couple months of snow and ice has been swept to. Oh yeah, and the white stuff that's still left on the ground? Yeah, it is cold when it gets between the toes!

I didn't set any records today, but I definitely felt stronger on the hills. No new blisters to complain about... and no heel pain. My calves are still killing me after these runs though - even though I'm now about one month in to my barefoot-ish running style. Though my feet and toes report no new blisters despite this week's 12 miles or so, I guess the muscles still aren't quite used to the new regime!

My new running shoes have ten toes

No - I don't mean I put my ten toes into them. The shoes themselves have toes. Check 'em out!

I got these in the mail last night... and my daughter promptly grabbed them and went stomping around the house like a wacky miniature Bigfoot.

Bare feet. Snowy cobblestones. They just don't go well together. I think my new Vibram FiveFingers KSO's may well bridge the gap. Think of them as "gloves for your feet." A thin, tough layer of rubber on the bottom, "caps" to protect the toesies from the sharp edges of cobblestones and other debris and a strap to keep them on. Cool!

So cool, in fact that Wired Magazine (the online magazine for geeks) reviewed the Vibram FiveFingers, calling them "the geekiest shoes in the entire universe." Take a look:

We got another inch of snow last night here in Prague (on top of month-old ice), so I took the FiveFingers for a test run on the treadmill today. Two miles... no blisters. I like this!

In the past couple weeks, I've been working on two things. First - I'm adjusting my running style away from a typical shod "heel strike" to a "barefoot-like" forefoot/midfoot strike. Second, I'm working on exercises to strengthen my calves and ankles (here's a great set of exercises to try). I have to admit - the sight of a an odd-looking American doing ankle-raises on the tram does actually attract more than a couple curious stares. But things are getting better - I've been ratcheting up the "barefoot-like" miles, and my calves, though still sore, don't feel like they've been hit by a baseball any more. Progress!

Now if only this snow & ice would melt off a bit so I can take my toes on the road again!

Shoes vs. Barefoot

This comparison shows how the my running style changes between when take off my running shoes. The treadmill speed is set identically in both clips. Barefoot step rate is about 20% faster at the same speed.

Heel strike vs. forefoot/midfoot strike

Here's a split-screen video comparison of the "old" stride (on the left) compared with the new one I'm practicing... yeah, the same one that's killing my calves!

Holy heelstrikes, Batman!

I took my camera in today to try to document what I was doing differently (or trying to do differently). This combination of frame captures illustrates pretty clearly the main point of this entire exercise.

These frames come from video footage of me running in my "normal", "new" and "barefoot" strides - capturing the exact moment my foot makes contact with the treadmill.

Which landing would you guess puts the most strain on my Achilles tendon (and the spot where it's attached to my heelbone?) I'm putting my money on the "normal" frame on the far left. Video clips coming next...

If it doesn't kill you...

... it's good for you. Right? OK - did another treadmill workout yesterday. 3 fairly slow miles - with a nice 1 mile barefoot sandwiched between two fully shod miles. The good news? I don't have blisters on my right foot... and my left calf feels fine!

Bad news? Three blisters on my left foot, and my right calf feels like it just got hit by a baseball.

Don't worry - the weird little toe is just the camera angle. Nothing broken there. However... walking has been fun... do I put my weight on the blisters? Or support my weight with my right calf. Tough choice! Needless to say, I've had to cut down on creating new "dance moves" with my five-year-old daughter!

One interesting observations from this workout. During a portion of the run, I compared my cadence (steps per minute) in the three different running styles - while running at the same pace on the treadmill.

Old style with shoes: 150 steps/min

New style (forefoot strike) with shoes: 160 steps/min

Barefoot: 180 steps/min

In other words, to run at the same speed, I took 20% more steps when I was barefoot than when I was running in my old style. This really isn't that surprising - running shoes, with their thickly padded heel were designed to help runners take longer strides. Without the shoes, you naturally take shorter, faster strides.

Off to drain some blisters...

Starting slow

The combination of more work and more snow on Prague's streets really isn't helping the barefoot experiment much. The last couple miles of my normal commute route is on a narrow road winding through the forest. It doesn't have more than a foot or so of running space on a good day. With this winter's snow and ice, I'd really have to play in the traffic to get home. My wife doesn't like it when I do that - especially in the dark.

I have been reading up the last couple evenings though, and there's some good info out there on barefoot (or near-barefoot running). I came across an article on wired.com today (I know, I know, not your typical source of running information) that had some great tips on starting out.

• Start slow, with quarter-mile runs at most, and build up very gradually.
• Listen to your feet. Don’t try to run with the same gait you use in shoes — shorten your steps and land on the forward part of your foot.
• Keep your head up and your body vertical. Your feet should be hitting the ground almost directly underneath you, not in front of you.
• Ankle and calf strength is key to avoiding injury, so consider this four-week barefoot strengthening program before you start.
• Keep barefoot running to no more than 10 percent of your weekly regimen, especially at first.
• If you’re running completely barefoot, run on a mix of soft and hard surfaces to give your feet time to toughen up

Sounds like a plan. My calves need strengthening. My toes need toughening. I'm off to do some calf raises.

New beginnings hurt in new places

OK - so the blisters have dried up, but my calves are still killing me after my first barefoot running experiment. The cobblestones of Prague are still covered with a mixture of snow, ice and "frozen snot", so I made my way inside to the gym on Friday for day one of the barefoot experiment. The goal? To test out some of the stuff I've been reading about in Christopher McDougall's "Born to Run." Namely - modern running shoes may very well be reason for my chronic heel pain. Here's how McDougall puts it - in a 2 minute video clip on YouTube:

As eager as I am to try out something new... I don't want to break things while doing it. Especially if those things are what keep me mobile. So I started slowly. I cranked up the treadmill to a nice, slow 10-minute mile pace. The goal for the first two kilometers was to keep the shoes on, but focus on landing on the balls of my feet instead of the heels. In other words - run like my two-year-old does.

It felt... weird. Kind of like I was tiptoeing while running. I started feeling it in my calves after the first kilometer or so. You know - that feeling you get when you're using a muscle you're just not used to using. There's a mirror set up right next to the treadmill I was using, so I snuck peeks at myself as I went along, and noticed something interesting. When I ran like a toddler, it automatically made me straighten my back up. Most of my motion seemed to be up-and-down, without a lot of side to side swaying. A little like what you'd see if you're hopping in place. I'd switch back to "normal running" for a bit and see an instant change in my posture. I'm 6 foot 4, 180 pounds, and usually move with the grace of a drunk giraffe. The mirror told me that when I run, I lumber - swaying side to side with each stride. That swaying motion goes away when I transition to my new "toddler run."

At kilometer three, I took off the shoes and socks. Not a whole lot of difference at first. What seemed like a forced technique while wearing shoes became the only technique barefoot. I tried a couple heel-strike steps barefoot just to see what would happen - and thought the thuds on the treadmill would bring down the house! About halfway through the barefoot kilometer, things started to heat up. What began as a tingling feeling in my toes and balls of my feet started to smart... and then burn a bit. By the time kilometer 4 rolled around, I was ready for socks. I made it another 500 meters or so, and then popped the shoes back on to round out the 5K.

Not sure if it was heat or the abrasive surface of the treadmill - but the soles of my feet hurt the rest of the day. I got home and confirmed my suspicions - blisters on three or four toes, and burning red soles. I had a rude awakening when I got up the next morning. My calves were complaining - bitterly about all the new work they'd been forced to do.

Today, the blisters are dried up, my feet no longer feel like they've been massaged with sandpaper, and my calves? Well, they're still a bit sore. You know what though? My sore muscles tell me that I'm doing something different than the way I've always run. Right or wrong, I'm learning a way of running that's very different than I've been doing it for years. The sore calves? I'm sure they'll just get stronger to the point where they're trained to expect the kind of abuse I throw at them.

You know what else though? My heel didn't bother me the whole run!

My Kindle told me to do it

Tomorrow I'm going to hit the treadmill during my lunch break. And I'm going to do it barefoot.

Running barefoot? As my cousin asked me... "why in the world would you want to do that?" Why indeed? Two reasons. First - I got a Kindle for Christmas. Second, I don't like long needles - especially when they're filled with cortisone and poking their way into my heel. Let me back up a bit. The other day, I was sitting on Prague's Tram #20 on the way home from work, and I was looking for something new to read. Christopher McDougall's "Born to Run" caught my eye, and, thanks to the wonders of Amazon's "Whispernet," a couple clicks, $11.98, and a two tram stops later, I was hooked.

McDougall starts off the book asking a pretty basic question - "How come my foot hurts?" If you're an average recreational runner, you've probably asked the yourself the same question. In fact, McDougall claims that up to eight out of ten runners just like us get hurt every year. I'm one of those eight.

I started picking up my mileage when I moved to Prague a couple years ago and found out that running four miles was one of the quickest ways to get to work each day (as long as the streets aren't covered with a mix of ice, salt and weeks-old frozen snow snot as they are now). By running to work, I could beat the drivers, appreciate the scenery (there's LOTS of it in Prague!) and got a workout in - all while commuting! Only problem? A couple years ago, out of the blue, my left heel starts hurting.

It wasn't constant... but it did get worse - to the point where in the middle of a run, I'd start hobbling until I shook my ankle a certain way and the pain would vanish. My doc took one look at my swollen heel and quickly figured out that I had chronically swollen bursa sacs - the little cushions that shield your Achilles tendon where it gets plugged into your heel bone.

The cause? I pronate (twist my foot inward) when I run. All that twisting motion, coupled with the stress of repeatedly driving your full body weight into your foot a couple hundred times each mile doesn't bode well for the fairly delicate combination of bones, tendons and jelly-filled baloons that comprise your foot. The plan - stop the pronation by inserting custom molded orthodics (inserts) into my running shoes. Strengthen and stretch the foot with six months of physical therapy. Hot lava stones, ultrasound therapy and cute exercises made the clinic happy, but didn't help the heel situation a bit. The therapist did look at me oddly when I would show up for my appointments in my running or bike gear, having just jogged or cycled in from work!

Which brings me to the needle filled with cortisone. I was tired of popping ibuprofens before my daily commute. My inserts and therapy weren't helping. And I had a triathlon and a 10K to run in a couple months! After six months of failed inserts and therapy, the doc suggested I was ready to try "stage two" - cortisone shots. I thought my heel pain was bad before the shot? Let me tell you - a shot of cortisone isn't the most enjoyable experience. But after a night of a heel that felt like it was going to burn a hole through the sheets, the pain... was GONE. I could run the cobblestones streets of Prague what felt like new feet! I could run "normal" again - without having to do the weird combination of gyrations that somehow let me favor a inflamed bursa in my shoe! Until a couple months later, when the heel pain slowly but surely worked its way back and settled in to my daily commute again. And so began my love-hate relationship with the needle. Every four to five months, I'd return for a tune-up of my orthotics and a top-up of cortisone. Until I finally got tired of the whole thing and decided to settle for ibuprofen and get used to the pain.

So there I was on the Tram, with my Kindle reading about McDougall's experience... and it sounded eerily familiar. His story meanders through the desolate and extreme Copper Canyons of Mexico where he encounters members of the Tarahumara tribe. Legendary for their endurance, the Tarahumara are known as hunters who quite literally run their quarry to death chasing their prey until it drops from exhaustion. They do all this running in thin leather sandals. In some of the most inhospitable terrain on earth. And they don't have swollen bursa sacs. Or Achilles tendinitis. Or shin splints. Or plantar faciitis - or any of the array of injuries that plague all but 20% of today's runners. Why not?

I don't want to read the whole book to you online - it's too good a read for you to miss out on. But long story short, McDougall traces the rise in running injuries to something very interesting... the invention of the modern running shoe! Before the early 70's - just about every runner shod his or her feet with something much more similar to the Tarahumara Huarache sandal than today's running shoe.

If you have a running shoe - run over and grab it real quick. They come in all shapes, sizes and designs, of course - but almost all of them have something in common. About an inch or so of foam, padding, rubber, airsacs or even spring-loaded suspension systems under the heel. Run in running shoes, and your natural inclination is for your well padded heel to hit the ground first. You then roll to the ball of your feet, lift off, and repeat. Believe it or not, that's not how you used to run.

I asked my two year old to run around for me in his new "wunning soos" the other night and he did something very interesting. He ran around as if he was barefoot - slapping the balls of his feet down first, and just barely touching his heel to the ground. He hasn't been "taught" by his shoes yet to run any way other than how his body is telling him to. Now try an experiment. Take off your shoes and run across the room. Odds are, you'll run the same way as a two year old! Without the heel padding of a modern running shoe, it just hurts to drive your heel into the ground at the beginning of every step. If you don't happen to have access to toddlers or running shoes - check out the video below, which illustrates the problem pretty clearly.

When you're running, each step can put an impact of as much as twelve times your body weight on your foot. For someone like me - that's over a ton of impact power hitting each foot... each step. And with my heel down and toes up as in the video above, my Achilles tendon is stretched even tighter between the "airbags" into my heel bone. I'm just surprised I didn't start feeling tweaks a couple hundred miles ago.

Impact aside - the thick heel of a running shoe puts your actual heel about an inch of the ground. No matter how much "motion control" the shoe has built in to it, you're foot's much more likely to do weird twists, turns and pronations as you balance the mass of your body on the impact of each elevated foot.

Take away the heel support of the modern running shoe and your body tells you to run like a toddler - and to and each step the way your foot is meant to. Look at it for a sec... it's like a natural shock absorber all by itself. Land on the meaty ball of your foot, and your arch's natural suspension system takes up the shock, and rebounds the force you've just put into it back up into another step. Amazing!

Which is all a very roundabout way of explaining why it is that the combination of my Kindle and a long needle is going to get me running on a treadmill barefoot tomorrow. Maybe this idea's not worth the $11.98 it cost to download the book. But it sure makes sense... and it can't be much worse than another shot, can it?