Gym & Tonic

From the Archive – Jan 2011.

After two days fully ‘socked and shod’ my feet felt as though they were sulking this morning.  Since having had all this attention and awareness bestowed upon them, it’s as though they have taken on a personality all of their own.  So now, as well as ‘being in touch with my feelings’, I am also in touch with my feet; its novel networking system and completely explains the phrase, ‘feeling your feet’.

In an attempt to keep my ‘newly found feet’ happy, I decided to go to the gym for a work out -unshodden.  I am intending to run the Battersea Barefoot 10K later in the year so as well as just ambling about with ‘appy feet I am going to have to put in a bit of bare-toe training too.

After my usual workout, I try to look as casual as possible as I disrobe my digits in the corner of the gym.  I have briefly read about the importance of ‘breaking bare feet in gently’ as joints and posture need to become realigned to compensate for the lack of support provided by footwear.  For all the positive health implications I have read about, it seems there are at least as many negative aspects too.

So it’s a gentle walk unshodden on the treadmill to start.  But not for long. It’s no good; I can’t do slow.   With all the warnings ringing in my ears I press the  +  button on the display to increase the speed – and I keep pressing it until I’m at a light jog.  I’m very conscious of the noise my feet are making – I sound two stone heavier than my last run, not two trainers lighter.  My ankles feel like Pinocchio’s, all wooden and hinged, my knees have little fireworks going off at the knee cap and my arches are already aching.  What is going on?  From the waist down I feel very clumsy, dis-jointed, awkward – are my shoulders starting to ache?   I press the  +  button again, (if in doubt, go faster) in an attempt to get into a stride or ‘lope’ but am still only comfortable at just 8 km per hour.  20 minutes ago, safe and shod, I was interval training between 9.5 and 12.5  km per hour – with the same pair of feet and legs!

I sense my body knows that something is missing, it’s not realised it’s only a pair of trainers; I think it’s concerned it may be missing an actual joint or even a limb.  Every muscle and joint seems to be compensating for the loss, it feels weird.  Without my shodden support, my ankles feel as though they are doing an awful lot more work.  I’m not sure that this is a good thing.  I need to check it out.  So I do the sensible thing; I persevere. I don’t actually hurt and that is the only encouragement I need to keep going.

In an incredibly short amount of time, I enter a magical unshodden little World of my own; my stride is lighter and longer, my feet are warm, my knees soft and my muscles relaxed; my mind is calmer and more confident as  these delicious discoveries are being noted and processed; my senses are now making sense of all these unfamiliar feelings; neuro-pathways are being re-written; my body is computing all of this new data and actually responding to its new programming, already.  I can feel it change, I actually feel stronger.  The heat from my feet feels like an energy source, like being plugged into a power source.  I know I should stop, I’ve been running for 10 minutes.  But I really don’t want to.  I feel ‘in the groove’, Forrest Gump style – I want to run forever.

‘For Goodness Sake’, I hear my inner critic snipe, ‘it’s only your first barefoot run … you’re not Zola Budd’.

Maybe not, but you know what? I bet I know how she felt!

After an exhilarating 20 minutes I muster all my common sense and call it a day, for today.

Running barefoot hasn’t just felt like running without trainers, it has felt like training with someone else feet and I don’t care how ridiculous it sounds; it felt like those ‘other feet’ had  little wings on the back of them.  Running unshodden made me feel unstoppable, not a concept I am familiar with, particularly in the gym.

What is familiar, however, is the wonderfully vibrant tingly feeling of pure energy that happens whilst being unshodden.   Here it is again, with the volume right up.  My feet feel as though they are having their own little ‘freedom celebration’, their own unshodden shin-dig.  And it’s addictive.