This site is just about one year old now, and this marks its 50th post. I thought this could be a fitting place to start something new: additional writers. Or guest writers, we could call them at the moment.
You see, Barefoot Monologues is a plural title, and thus it seems to speak of many voices. And since I happen to know of a few talented voices who also happen to be runners, I thought it would be fitting to publish their “journeys of the sole” on here along with mine. It makes me happy when other people talk about how much they love running, distance and minimalist running in particular. I look forward to seeing how far this will go.
My first Barefoot Monologue-er happens to be the one and only Lynsey Bray. Some of you may know her by her interwebz moniker, CatChowder. She and I have never met in person, but our friendship has grown over the past year and a half through Runner’s World forums, Facebook and thousands of text messages about things like rolling pin massagers and runner’s trots. I admire Lynsey’s ability to run for hours on a treadmill and lift heavy things (and put them down). I hope everyone enjoys her introduction post as much as I did. Thanks Lynsey!
Two things quickly became apparent – 1. Running was the only time my mind was completely clear, and 2. shoes distracted me from accomplishing the former. I didn’t think about deadlines while I ran, or goals, or bills; but I did think about my left lace feeling tighter than the right, and the fact that the tongue on my right was more lateral than the left, and both my socks were scrunched…frankly shoes drove me nuts. Foregoing shoes for running shouldn’t have been a surprise anyway considering I rarely wear them any other time.
Much to the chagrin of my husband I’d make a point to pass by the house to toss them in the front yard before continuing on my way. His reservations really are understandable; I have the uncanny ability of receiving weird random foot injuries. Once I managed to open the bottom of three toes by stepping on a scythe, another time I dropped a 40lb curl bar on my foot, I’ve stepped on more nails than I can count, and I even sprained my ankle within the first hour of my first camping trip…walking from the porta-potty. Some barefoot runners wonder if I’m blind or simply unobservant; my husband and I consider it my superpower, a gift so to speak. We reached a compromise when I found Vibram Classics. They won’t save me from any nails protruding from pieces of wood hidden in the grass, but they have saved a few toenails; more importantly, I don’t spend more time fiddling with my shoes than I do actual running.