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photo: wichitaksdailyphoto.blogspot.com
Click the link (above) for a lovely story about barefooting from the archives of the Winnipeg Tribune. Published July 12, 1939.
queen anne's lace happy to just be
I went out for a run this morning. By 7:ooam the sun was already high on the horizon and was given chase by a bank of clouds which, for most of my run, kept the sun hidden. The moon, still fullish, was translucent and high in the western sky. It beckoned me on my out run.
I had trouble staying in my body and out of my head this morning. The times when the thoughts float easily away, and I sift into the vastness, aware of being the wind, the birdsong, the rays of sunlight; those runs are sublime. And then there are runs like today’s, when I just can’t get out of my own way. I fall into thinking about something, generally planning my day or my week, and being so immersed in the future I fail to notice the now. The sensations of the moment are lost to me: the soles of my feet landing softly on worn asphalt, the gentle trills of chickadees, the trickle of sweat that collects slowly in the edge of my hairline and, having gathered sufficient importance, runs along the edge of my face. The breeze once causing my eyes to tear slightly as I ran into it now ruffling the fine hairs on my forearms, my breath matching my stride matching the pulse of the universe.
The peace and wisdom that come of emptiness were not to be today. Mindfulness remained elusive and I, stuck in my ego, struggled to complete the run.
Eventually I came to my senses, abandoned the effort, slowed to a walk and enjoyed the blossoms along the roadside.
Really, I just want to tell you about my thrombophlebitis and my CEP compression sleeves, but I think I’m going to wander. Not far though.
Work is a bit too busy. I have op to run only on Sunday mornings of late; one run a week in the past 6 weeks or so…not an auspicious running schedule. I wish for more now that the morning sun beckons and birds attempt to trill me out the door. August may be the magic.
Since last fall I’ve had some issues with thrombophlebitis. Yeah, along with chilblains and gout, I too thought phlebitis was an old man disease, belonging to my grandfather as he sashed up his hernias and wore odd leg suspenders. Oh, and he did.
Apparently, it is not. It is, along with bilaterial adhesive capsulitis and Baker’s cyst, an issue which can, and in fact will, roost in my body. I am the repository of all things odd, and thrombophlebitis is here to teach me something.
It is caused by a blood clot in the vein. In my case, at a surface level. Should I worry? I’m not sure, but I do not.
I am glad I can run again (cyst-er is fading, being the primary obstacle to running since December). I can embrace this phlebitis – even now the name is becoming lyrical on my lips – which is now me.
The phlebitis. It is a surface phlebitis. A vein which passes mid shin, across my sharp and jagged shin bone. Movement of most kinds seems to cause and/or aggravate inflammation in this vein. It is painful. Running, jumping, jumping rope, running stairs: all seem to be antagonistic to the delicacy of this quarter inch of vein. Imagine me with anything you might consider ‘delicate’.
I wondered if additional support might help. If that vein had no opportunity to rub or be jostled against my shin bone, would the pain abate?
I purchased a pair of CEP compression sleeves and….life is good.
I can run with my sleeves on and have NO pain; not a TOUCH of discomfort.
This amazes me. Totally.
This morning I ran a bit more than 5k. The compression sleeves, hard to get on and off, leave me with absolutely phlebitis pain free and my calves recover well from the run too as a result of the sleeves.
I have so much more to say but no time. I hope you run strong and healthy!
Here’s a short vid of my running in sleeves:
I got out for a lovely barefoot run this morning. Overcast and damp from showers, the early morning air was greenhouse humid and cotton swab thick.
I ran slowly, enjoying the feel of the air lifting the fine hairs on my arms, focusing on technique, wanting to land so softly on the spring cool asphalt I’d be quieter than a butterfly kiss.
Robins swooped and cattle lowed and a fat plush kitty strolled across my path. Somewhere in a stand of trees along a recently plowed field, crows were enjoying a raucous sunday morning service.
I ran slowly, in meditation, thankful.
Interested in barefoot running?
Jason Robillard’s wise
words in The Barefoot Running Book were the first I read on the topic. His information is straightforward and full of common sense. He provides progressions to take you from whatever point you are right now to being a successful and healthier barefoot runner. I wrote about my use of his book and ideas in a blog post in early May of last year – check it out for an applied review of his techniques.
Now Barefoot Jason has a second, expanded edition, of The Barefoot Running Book available. You can purchase the book of get it as a PDF download! I think this is simply brilliant.
I’ve learned a lot about barefoot running from Jason, but the most important aspect for me has been a return to, or a finding of, joy and mindfulness in my running and in my barefootedness. These qualities have thankfully bubbled over into living more of my life barefoot and sharpening my awareness of why I do so.
I highly recommend The Barefoot Running Book as a great read. Even if you are skeptical of barefoot running, you might find something quite lovely.
But tomorrow, dawn will come the way I picture her,
barefoot and disheveled, standing outside my window
in one of the fragile cotton dresses of the poor.
She will look in at me with her thin arms extended,
offering a handful of birdsong and a small cup of light.
~ William Collins
seated at the highest point of prince edward island
A friend of mine, Jane of the gorgeous arms, was recently inspired (ummmm, yeah I’ll stick with inspired) by a hike up Signal Hill with a Mount Everest attempter. She thought hiking to the high point of PE would be great fun and luckily she invited me to join the group.
I was in for it. In fact, feeling barefoot happy after my recent barefoot 10k and encouraged by a video of Mt. Whitney being summitted barefoot, I thought I’d make it my first barefoot hike.
So Jane gathered ’round her a group of Loud Smart Girls – Ann, Shannon, Sue, Michelle, myself – and together this ragtag group spent part of Samhain in search of the highest peak of Prince Edward Island. It ended up being not as straight forward as it might sound.
You see, Prince Edward Island’s highest point sits at 142m above sea level. It is little more than a bump on a landscape of rolling hills. It sits on private property and is unnamed. We were unable to find any local information that would help lead us to the lowest high point in Canada. It isn’t like it stood out of the landscape like a real mountain.
Based on some scant information from Summits of Canada Expedition and a dated but largely accurate description by one John McPike of Texas who visited the PE High Point in 2007, we set out yesterday afternoon for Glen Valley, PE.
Junction Road, where we were to find the second entrance to a farmed field fringed on the right by trees – hardly a rare geography here – was a gauntlet of fall colours. Some interesting landmarks along the lane caught our attention.
wild animals....
dangerous pirates....
spooky spooks....
It was a cool gray afternoon; only about 4 degree celsius with a threat of showers. Once we reached Base Camp we checked the weather station. I was relieved to find conditions dry as I had been a bit worried about hiking unknown terrain in the rain.
After a best guess but failed attempt with McPike’s directions,we spent a fair amount of time searching unsuccessfully for path markers and heading in various directions. This led us through fields, over knobby knolls and hillocks, along tractor rut paths. It did not lead us to our desired summit.
Walking through the fields barefoot was not comfortable. The short stubble of cut crops lounging under regrowth wasn’t painful, but it did give my insteps more action than they normally get when I am unshod. At the back end of the fields there was a lot of odd debris, as if the area was a bit of a dumping and/or party area. In particular there was an abundance of broken glass which required barefoot brightness, vigilance and great care to avoid.
As the first hour gave way to the second of our meandering and exploration and failed theories, my feet got cold. Not unbearably so. I did not want to return to the car or put on socks. I was simply and thankfully aware of walking in damp areas for a sustained period of time.
Eventually, half the summit party returned, beckoned by witching intuition perhaps, to the smallish stand of woods which we first cursorily explored upon arriving. They fanned out in an attempt to cover as much ground as possible. Their brilliance paid off!
It was with some measure of relief rather than a rush of accomplishment that I heard the shouts of intrepid Anne, Jane and Shannon. The Highest Point had been found and I needed only follow the sounds of their cheering to join them at the summit.
Walking through the woods was almost luxurious. Though I had to watch both where I stepped and for branches at eye level, the damp covering of leaves over soft mosses was quite lovely, flakes of gold and bronze gilt over velvet. Occasionally, I caught a small fern between my toes and bore it forward like a bouquet. Toe posies.
Please, enjoy some of the photos from this grand escapade. It was a quirky bit of Hallowe’en fun.
junction road, where it all began
consulting the gps wasn't helpful
sue & michelle claim the summit
our expedition leader summits
the box which marks the highest point in pei
the highest point register
...with some of our signatures
toe posy
Summit PostScript: Our intrepid, resourceful and inspiring Expedition Leader, Jane, suffered an injury on this successful summit of the highest point in Prince Edward Island. Upon reaching summit Jane found her camera battery to be juiceless and ran pell mell through the woods to her car for a fresh battery, turning her ankle in the process. One of her flexor tendons was injured and she is today in pain and unable to walk. I should not mention that turned ankles are so much less likely in bare feet. No, I should not mention that. I wish Jane a speedy recovery so that we may again search a summit together.
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You might describe your experience with Kettlebell Training differently. But first, you’d have to be Kettlebell Training!
Two Kettlebell Skills Clinics are scheduled for November.
Friday, November 5th at 5:15pm
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I wasn’t intending to go for a run this morning, but the clear morning sun flooding my windows was more of a lure than I could ignore.
In late October, my orbital tilt puts the sun further to the south, so my run is largely shaded. The bits of the road which are touched by the morning light are sensuous, though the sun lacks the warmth I so love.
The fields are spent and absent is the heavy, damp verdant smell of loam and life.
Barns shiver a bit in the chill morning air, snuggling deeper into an autumnal cloak of fire roasted colours.
The calls of chickadees glide under drifts of woodsmoke and crows stand sentinel along the route, always eager for conversation. Alerting others to my passing, each crow shares an early morning greeting with me.
A rusty lane leads wetly to a place of pork no more. The slippery slurpy clay calls to my piggies.
Often I meditate while I run.
The running is a meditative posture. This morning I was present in the breeze, the chilled soles of my feet, the brilliance of a coy sun playing amidst the clouds, the low of cattle, the warm autumn colours.
The breeze played in the falling leaves and created a musical shimmy in pine needles.
When I returned from the run, I walked around the yard. I found October making love to a burning bush, she is engorged and sexy sprawling in her boudoir. I love her, for she is bawdily lustful and sassy.
Coming up the laneway, I made a video. I walk my lane at the beginning of each run as a warm up and at the end as a cool down. The video lacks a plot line and a leading lady, so I won’t mind so much if you pass on it. My feet are loving their freedom and growing ever more adventurous.
When I got out of bed around 5:30am on Sunday I could hear the wind outside. It was a wet,cool, windy day and I had a barefoot 10k run on my morning agenda.
First I took my seat and meditated. Then I contemplated the weather.
The precipitation was welcome because barefoot running in the rain is the best. The temperature, a cool 8 degrees Celsius at that hour of the morning, and a promise to rise only another 2 degrees, was tolerable, though 12 or 14 degrees would have been decidedly wonderful.
The wind, gusting to 45 kph was my climate challenge. Coming in from the NW, the anticipation of a stiff wind was almost enough to send me nudging back into the warmth of a cozy, familiar back still curled under a comforter, where squalls would be lost to spooning.
Is there some kind of crazy that drove me instead in search of running gear? Or, was it the magic of my happy toes, painted a peppy orange and boasting jack o’lanterns on the big toes? I couldn’t help but smile and feel very brave when I looked at them.
Some strange intersection of inconsequential bits of my life buoyed my spirit and my resolve before my mindfulness bell chimed 6 o’clock. I was in. I was totally in.
the timing chip solution
Next, to make a final decision regarding the attachment of my timing chip. My research of the previous day had left me with two ‘best’ options. One was to tape the thing to the top of my foot with medical or duct tape. The other was to wear it with rubber bands. I went with the rubber band choice.
Breakfast, dry clothespacked, a shot of cough syrup, camera check, mounting excitement.
This year’s crowd seemed timid. Made nervous by the weather, they crammed the nooks and crannies of the Confederation Centre of the Arts, building a steamy warmth in the building which, as I ducked inside for one last bathroom run, I thought would make for even greater discomfort when confronted with the freshness of the morning.
Folks were warming up, chatting, milling around, creating photo opportunities. The music was appropriate. Udo took a bit of video before the starting gates filled. I might have been a bit excited….
The early part of the race route was along the waterfront. I had lined up behind the 2:30 half marathon pacer at the start as this was about the pace at which I intended to do the 10k. Before we left the boardwalk I had decided to pick up my pace just a touch. As an untrained and mainly recreational runner, I had no clue as to what my pace was as I left the pacer and her group behind.
There was lots of reaction to my barefootedness. From curiosity and comments about my lunacy, to horrified murmurings, from stifled ‘sympathy’ groans to cheers. I have to admit, it was all amusing and spurred me on.
Twice on the route I had to walk a few paces due to the amount of rubble on the road. Thankfully these were both very brief surrenders.
I ran a faster pace than I intended. This led to the lack of subsequent video as my partner arrived at the agreed upon checkpoints after I had already passed. In fact, I crossed the finish line with him no where in sight and 5 minutes later found him diligently watching for my arrival.
My finish line photo, at the top of this entry, was taken by Lisa Wells, who cheered me across the finish line with her son Spencer. Thanks Lisa and Spencer!
This post is getting long-winded, as I generally tend to be, and I am needing to move on to other tasks. So,
running 10k was good for my soles
- The rubber bands were not a great option. I was getting different proprioceptive feedback from each foot and this changed my gait somewhat. I was conscious of this throughout the full run and tried to compensate but was rather distracted by it.
- The rain and puddles were great fun.
- The wind was nastiest between the 6km and 7km mark, just when I thought I was done with it.
- I lost focus and energy on the very last kilometre and had to run from my heart and mantra my way to the finish.
- My finish time amazed me.
- KRock 105.5 announcing my arrival at the finish line and pointing out my barefoot status was an uplifting moment just when I needed it.
- My bare feet, after the run, remain lovely and smooth.
- A live interview this morning with Matt Rainnie of CBC Island Morning about my barefoot adventure was a giggle.
- A freelancer is coming by the studio tomorrow to do a story about my nonsense.
- Running barefoot is sublime.
To quote the haiku version of The Complete Book of Barefoot Running,
