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.

Eat like you are poor

A response to my blog entry last week on diet and running produced this idea in the Runner’s World master’s forum:

“….the best advice I ever got on running diet was ‘eat like you are poor.’ I try to limit myself to simple foods (beans, pasta, lean meats, peanut butter, whole grain bread and fruits & vegetables),” said the forum member, “backothepack.”

For me, the idea of adopting a diet of the poor aligns with the new Catholic Pope’s pronouncement that the church be dedicated to the poor. It's just a bit of serendipity. Yesterday, he told journalists gathered at the Vatican that he chose his papal name because St. Francis of Assisi was ‘a man of poverty and a man of peace.”

He continued, "How I would like a poor Church for the poor."

I’m not a Catholic, but this is an inspiring belief—perhaps a guide both for running and religion, body and spirit. (It was heartening, too, that Pope Francis blessed non-Catholic journalists as well as non-believers at this event—basically covering all my bases.)

In last week’s blog, I wondered if one could simplify dietary choices by asking, “Is this something the Dalai Lama would eat?” Perhaps this was a pretentious leap from a mundane matter of daily living to the ineffable concerns of the spirit.

Still, what we eat (and what we do for exercise) has a lot to say about how we live and how we take care of the earth. So I’ll take another leap of faith and say it now seems possible to ask for guidance in another way: “Is this something Pope Francis would eat?”

Eat without thinking too much

The new issue of Runner's World includes a special package on weight loss, which you soon discover is as much about diet as it is exercise.

There's lots of good advice on what to eat, and when, if you want to drop some weight and improve your performance. The section provides a series of practical tips leading you through training for various lengths of races--from 5Ks to marathons.

Salient points for this older runner:

* The cover callout is tempting: Lose 5 pounds. That seems reasonable, especially with spring at the doorstep. Maybe it's time for the heavy winter brews and second helpings to go by the wayside for a while.

* Don't eat stuff before you run that will require you to carry toilet paper.

* Don't think that long-distance running gives you the right to pig out afterwards, or lie on the couch the rest of the day for that matter.

* No matter what you do with your diet, don't expect to look like any of the runners pictured in this magazine. Not ever.

* Some things I should consider eating related to running fuel: graham crackers, plain Greek yogurt, an egg or two more often in the morning, and gummy bears.

* Enjoy eating. I don't think I can start counting calories at this point in my life. Maybe I can just ask myself, "Would the Dalai Lama eat this?" Good food is transcendent; look at those bananas.

Trinity River Heron

This that Fort Worth has for a river

flows with the detritus of last night’s

heavy rain still.

I take the fork to a path of crushed shale,

ignoring the new downpour,

and the flash of lightning.

Too late for shelter or safety,

more the momentum of long ignorance,

of course, than any bit of bravery.

Well, hell, let the young stand under bridges

and wait out the storm!

At the low-level dam of the Trinity, across the freeway

from the Fort Worth skyline waits the great blue heron

standing aslant in the shallows, head tilted comically toward the current.

Imagine in that fixed gaze the focus of its cares in the water:

what in its mind’s eye is reflected of the creature on the trail,

the slow upright figure like so many all day running upstream?

A walk in the park

Last Monday, between arrival in New York City and the first business meeting of the week lay a chance to run in Central Park, something that had always seemed appealing as a great destination run. Maybe I pictured myself as a New York Road Runner’s Club kind of guy—fit, busy, urbane.

My colleague Curt (photo, left) was pleased to be able to squeeze in a quick training session with me for his upcoming Iron Man Triathlon. And wow that’s another story….

So we took a cab from midtown Manhattan to save time and my energy.  The idea was for a brisk five or six miles in the park, then a quick return to business.

It was all going to plan. Except that I had to walk--twice.

I’d rather have not had to do that in front of Curt and the Columbia University women’s cross-country team. 

But, I’m trying to give myself a pardon. The excuses quickly collected:

Central Park is hilly, which I didn’t realize; it was cold and raining; I’m feeling chilled; and I’m still recovering from a diabolical virus.  Haven’t I arrived at a point in my life where I don’t have to prove anything to Curt and  Columbia?  Give that virus another chance and you’ll spend a week here in New York feeling like the devil again.

Sure, I could have pushed through those relatively thin walls of fatigue on the hills and kept my Central Park memory free of an asterisk. 

But isn’t there finally a bit of wisdom in taking a break when you want?  Shouldn't life ultimately allow a walk in the park?

A wind-aided run--and life

Yesterday, on a blustery morning, I finagled things so I could run with the wind at my back. Over the hour, there were a few occasions when I caught a crosswind and even a head wind a time or two, but basically I bounced along with 15-20 miles per hour of Nature helping out. 

The wind-aided 10K was a pleasant change of pace on a winter’s day; with the wind an ally, you can kind of glide along and work on your form.

With lesser strain, perhaps you have more energy for thought. I pondered the meaning of the whole thing. Is wind-aided running fair? Does the day deserve an asterisk?

One could salvage the thought, too, that the trip was a good metaphor for my life. The day before, I stumbled upon an unmarked file in my office and opened it to find a bunch of notes and clippings from early and mid career that had encouraged me in some form. Most of the materials were hand-written notes or more formal memos from bosses, colleagues, and sources from the industry of agriculture I have covered  all of my career. 

During the run, it dawned on me, if it hadn't registered before, how those people had a great deal to do with any success I achieved in those years and that they helped bring me home to this place I am now in life. Then I jumped to the next level of appreciation of all the friends and family who have helped push me along, too. Words for those people would reach to the ineffable.

I've had a wonderfully wind-aided career, and life.  And I should take some time now to try to play that role more often in the lives of others.

 The answer for this day, forgive me, was blowin’ in the wind.

Image: Agriculture.com

A big zero on a business trip

How hard is it to keep running when you’re traveling on business? 

For me, I guess,  it can be like facing the wrong way entrance of a one-way street. In this week’s experience, it dawned on me how cities, convention locations in particular, can be an especially alien environment for running.

So I just went four days without stretching my legs. Zero miles, not a minute. 

There are plenty of excuses and here they are:

The location. Downtown big city. Hilly, heavy traffic in places, surrounded by interstate highways and some sketchy neighborhoods.  And how does one manage all the stoplights?

The meetings. Sometimes early morning, sometimes after hours.  Sometimes at the drop of a hat in the hallway.

The bar. Yes, the hotel had a fitness room, but it was about the size of a rather generous prison cell.  And it was situated about fifty feet from the hotel bar. I did try out the bar.

The food. Trade show food, in particular. There’s something about giving in to a lukewarm hot dog that takes the fight out of you. 

The weather. First there was freezing rain, turning to snow with high winds. Return to fitness room next to bar, if you can.

Sitting. You can do a lot of walking at a convention and trade show, but if you attend meetings and write reports, you’re likely spending a lot of time sitting on your duff. 

Night life. Well, only one night out in this case. But like a trade show hot dog, a couple late-night toddies and a fine, rich meal can sap your will the next day.  (Is this where I admit that I know what it’s like to run with a hangover?)

Lots of excuses, as you can see.  The forces of entropy are easy to summon.

So do you just give in, lower your expectations, maybe just run the hotel stairs a couple times? Jog around the convention center in your street shoes?

Next trip, though, I’ll pack my running togs again, and hope to kick those big city meeting blues.