The Barefoot Running Book - Jason Robillard [2]
That next year, in 2005, we decided to run a 15K road race. Even though running in shoes over longer distances felt strange, I adapted the same technique I saw other runners using. They would land on their heel and roll their foot forward. For me it still felt awkward, but seemed to work. Even though that particular race was fun and went well, I did lose several toe nails and did experience pain. Undeterred, the following day I committed to a 50-mile race.
The rest of that summer I obsessively worked toward my ultimate goal of successfully running a 50-miler. Unfortunately my body did not cooperate and injuries started piling up. As a result I started skipping one workout a week and relying on ice baths to ease the pain after every run.
As a quick sidebar—ice baths that involve submerging anything above the thighs should be classified as torture. There are certain parts of our anatomy that were not designed to be submerged in 40° water.
A friend who noticed the pain I was experiencing suggested I go to a local specialty running store for new shoes. Apparently Duane, from the big box retail store, wasn’t the expert I assumed. At the running store the salesperson seemed to be more knowledgeable. He had me dip my feet in water and stand on a piece of paper to measure my arches. Apparently they were “normal.”
Then he had me walk on a treadmill (barefoot, mind you). He used a term I was vaguely familiar with: pronation. I was a mild overpronator. He gave me what he described as the perfect pair of shoes. When I explained my experience with Duane we shared a good chuckle about my naivety. Duane clearly did not have the shoe fitting expertise the running store could provide.
I went home and resumed training, confident my new professionally-fitted shoes would eliminate my debilitating injuries. I was wrong. The pain multiplied.
Everything culminated on that fateful day when I plunged into the ditch. It was my low point, both literally and figuratively. I never forgot the feeling of complete and total failure, the stabbing pain of defeat, the emptiness of hopelessness. I felt I wasn’t capable of anything. I had limitations.
The following spring, those feelings became the fuel that lead me to immerse myself in the world of barefoot running. There were few resources at the time. Ken Bob Saxton, Ted McDonald, and Rick Roeber had informative websites. Ken Bob ran a discussion group on Yahoo and there were a handful of academic papers. I drank in all I could. I experimented. I practiced. And I challenged myself.
While I would like to say those early days went well, they did not. Instead they were filled with every “rookie” mistake I could make. But I stuck with it and continued to learn and to refine.
That September I finished the 50-miler. I had accomplished the goal that had eluded me the previous year. Over the next few years, I continued to learn about barefoot running, slowly mastered the craft and started a website to share my experiences. I had no idea that simple, poorly-designed website would lead me to where it has.
In 2009, I was invited to join a barefoot running forum on the Runners World website. This led to many discussions with both novice and experienced barefoot runners. I came to the realization that I had a lot of information to share. Being a teacher by trade, I enjoy helping to spread knowledge, and started a series of barefoot running clinics. To supplement the clinics, I started writing brief essays on various topics related to barefoot running.
At some point, people started asking for copies which led to printing them in book form. Those were the humble beginnings to this book.
Starting in the fall of 2009, I began to revise and refine the content of that first book by adding information and honing concepts. This new edition of the book is the culmination of my own experiences, the input of hundreds of barefoot runners, a thorough examination of the current research and applications,