Barefoot in the sand

Today, on another chilly April-is-the-cruelest-month day in Iowa, I feel like I’m coming down with a cold. My left knee aches. There’s a little voice whispering that I’ll never run well again, or perhaps never run at all. The week’s forecast is for rain, rain, rain.

Ah, the frailty of the spirit sometimes.

Was it only a couple weeks ago that I was running barefoot in the sand along the Pacific? Better yet, I was spending time with my granddaughter Neena  on the southern California oceanfront. It was an utter joy to usher her down to the ocean’s edge where she viewed vast water for the first time. We took off our shoes, walked in the sand and listened to the waves roll in. (Those are Neena's feet in the photo, feeling ocean sand for the first time.) Normally an expressive little thing, she was quiet and in awe of the scene—as was I.

Later in the week I began experimenting with barefoot running on the beach. First a few hundred yards, then a mile or so, and finally a couple 5K type runs.  There was an evolution of technique—an adjustment for the canter of the beach, an effort to keep to the harder sand of a receding wave, a slightly shorter stride, etc.  The further distances came without even a twinge of complaint from arch, knee, or hip.

The experience was almost otherworldly -- simple motion, wave, breath, and sky.  It is the feeling of being a child again.

A recent study of barefoot Kenyan runners cited in Runner’s World (story) describes their environment as being a “firm sand surface.” I think I experienced something of that foot-surface feeling in California.

Is there a way to emulate a barefoot run on the beach or Kenyan sand?  On a lark today, I jumped on the treadmill in socks and ran for fifteen minutes.  Interesting experiment. The nagging knee was calm, the feet tilted to a mid- and front-foot landing, and the energy felt like, well, a little like running barefoot on the beach.

Although  I can’t imagine running barefoot anywhere but along the ocean (or on the treadmill), its appeal is now clear. And, it makes one wonder if a more minimal shoe would resonate some of the same experience. Certainly seems like something to explore.

Now, toting Neena along the Pacific. That’s something I wish I could figure out how to do more often, too.