Why I walk barefoot

I've been getting a lot of e-mails recently about barefoot running. My friends and inquisitors seem to be spurred on by this finely written article in the New York Times. This was oddly the first time I've explained my choice to forego shoes in text. It comes up often outside, when my lack of footwear is obvious, and where I don't have access to digital tools to disseminate information. Not so this time. This is my story as to why I rarely wear shoes.

To start, I'm not by any means a barefoot runner. I'm active, and I'm often barefoot, but the last time I ran more than a contiguous mile was in high school gym class. I do however play frisbee; surely if you're reading this blog then you know this much about me.

I have always played frisbee barefoot; this wasn't for physical reasons but rather for cultural ones. Bare feet seemed more appropriate in the center of the UC Berkeley campus than did cleats. This was the only running activity I had for years so I guess it shaped my habits fairly strongly.

Fast-forward seven years and I'm a crusty 25 year old in Chicago with leg injuries from cycling. All my frisbee-friends here wear shoes or cleats so I decide it's time to grow up and start protecting my feet with shoes. Presumably this will prevent further injuries and maybe make the old ones hurt less. I lace on some running shoes, go out to play, and last about 20 minutes. My knees hurt, my back hurts, and I'm no longer able to adapt my stride to shield my injured muscles. I feel old. My body is simply ignorant of how to run with shoes on and I'm amazed by the difference.

About six months later I crush my feet with some overly aggressive climbing shoes. I can no longer apply lateral pressure to my feet - i.e. unless a shoe is extra-extra-wide and floppy then I can't wear it. Sandals are still ok but these have a history of aggravating my cycling injury. I'm stuck. The only thing that doesn't hurt is walking barefoot.

I start with short walks and concentrate on how I'm spreading my toes and evenly landing on my metatarsals. I'm acutely aware of the amount of stress in my heel and the exhaustion of my calf from absorbing the impact that the sole of my shoe used to handle. I learn to avoid sandpapery sidewalk in favor of asphalt which doesn't sand down my feet as badly. Walking is shockingly complex. Doing this I find I can get around again. I look a bit silly in town but getting to work is no longer a physical challenge.

But more happens. I experiment with glut-dominated strides versus quad-dominated. I can absorb stress with my arches, calves, knees and more. This all becomes second nature and now I glide around impact free. This is fun, it's a game, and I'm getting surprisingly good at it. Now I walk the distance into downtown Chicago or south along the lake. In California I walk in the hills or between towns for hours and it feels great. It's what my body was designed to do.

So, when you see me walking in town without shoes please understand I'm not doing this to be fashionably distinct. I'm doing this because walking with shoes on my feet feels like typing with mittens on my hands.

Some common questions:
Q: What about Vibram Five Fingers (toe shoes)?
A: Vibrams feel great. Lots of foot bounce and sole protection. They tend to squeeze my feet too much (they don't come in extra-extra-wide sizes) but you should definitely check them out if interested.
Q: Aren't you afraid of broken glass?
A: Surprisingly not a problem. I wouldn't run on it but if you're walking there is very little your feet can't handle. Plants with spines pose a much greater threat than broken glass.
Q: What about work?
A: I wear sandals at work, while teaching, and whenever socially obligatory.
Q: Winter? Snow?
A: Yeah... it's going to be an interesting winter...