Tough

“You still running without shoes?” called out a neighbor as I ran by. “You sure are tough!”

“Not tough,” I replied, trying to surpress my gasps of exertion up the hill. “Just very gentle.”

I wish I was tough. Tougher, at least.

Between miles five and six of the Umstead Marathon, I was in fifth place when I was left in the dust by the eventual overall female winner (and new course record holder for the ladies). She finished in 3:03:59. If my abilities matched my secret aspirations, I should have been able to hang with her the whole way. I wasn’t even close.

By mile twenty-three, I had slipped to eighth overall. Another runner caught me going up Cedar Ridge, but he was running at a pace I could match. Physically, anyway. Mentally, I quit. A plaque was a plaque, who cares if it says “8th Place Male” instead of “7th Place Male?” Then another runner caught me. Who cares if the plaque says “9th Place Male” instead of “8th Place Male?”

Whatever mojo I had to finish strong in Ridge to Bridge a year and a half before was nowhere to be found. It seems like many runners train to make their bodies capable of performing the ambitious goals of their strong wills. I train to make my body able to compensate for my lack of will. Sure, there were other obstacles that impeded my efforts, and maybe I’ll write about what I think those were at some point if I think anyone is interested, but the brain is the big one.

The silver lining to this cloud of self-pity is that I’m feeling pretty much recovered from Umstead, so I think I will be able to give a strong effort at the Martinsville Half in a little over a week from now. I haven’t PRd in anything since the beginning of June last year (5K on the Runway, 17:38), and I think I might be able to shave a few seconds off of my fastest half (Mistletoe Half 2011, 1:25:52). That would certainly be a nice way to kick off training for the next marathon, which will be the North Olympic Discovery Marathon in June.

My training plan for NODM will pick up where I left off, with a few adjustments. I will have two goals for that trip out to Port Angeles, WA. Only one of them has to do with the race:

1. New PR. The course is flat. 2:55:00.
2. Find a place to live.

No, we haven’t sold our house. Not yet, and of course we’re hoping we will before the trip. Even if we don’t, so long as our finances accomodate, we’re going to try to sell an empty house from far away. It’s time for us to move, and I’d kind of like to miss another summer of getting eaten by NC bugs. So after the race, we’re going to spend a week looking for a dog-friendly house to rent in Port Angeles. Then we’ll come back, pack a few things (very, very few things), and move on out.

Back to the NODM, it looks like this race will most likely be run with the Vapors. There are long stretches of chip seal and this stuff:

When I ran on this stuff barefoot, Iris was telling me to hurry up.

When I ran on this stuff barefoot, Iris was telling me to hurry up.

Someday, maybe. Maybe I’ll be able to more happily handle that stuff without shoes. Hopefully, we’ll be living there soon.

Merrell Vapor Glove: My Last Shoe Review

That’s it, my work here is done. After this, no more shoe reviews for me. If I get sent any more shoes, I’ll just be annoyed because I’ll feel obligated to try them, and that will cut into barefooting time or, in shoe-preferred situations, Vapor time. The Vapor Glove is all a shoe needs to be. I don’t mean “all” in the sense that it has a bunch of features like bells and whistles and what’s the latest thing out there now? Boost? No, by “all” I mean “that’s all?” Yes. That’s all.

If you squint, it looks like a bare foot with laces.

If you squint, it looks like a bare foot with laces.

Flexy-bendy. So nice.

Flexy-bendy. So nice.

The Vapor's competitive edge. Eesh, sorry, that was pretty bad.

The Vapor’s competitive edge. Eesh, sorry, that was pretty bad.

A thin layer of rubber. That’s all. A thin layer of rubber to take the edge off of points, flexible enough that the foot can bend over and around the roots and rocks, instead of balancing over them on a stiff platform. The Merrell Vapor Glove is a trail running shoe. It is the best trail running shoe. My plan for the Umstead Marathon last weekend, and my backup plan, and the backup to my backup plan, all shared one tactic: race the singletrack easy. In the Vapor Gloves I couldn’t resist the temptation to maintain the momentum of the in-retrospect-too-fast first two miles. Finally, a shoe that felt right on the trails. Sure, as a result my legs retired before the race was done, but what fun that was.

/Umstead #3.

/Umstead #3. Sure, over ten minutes past my goal, but a great trail run.

In my brain, I converse with myself a lot about trade-offs. I don’t believe anything comes without a price. If I run on trails barefoot, I usually enjoy myself but it’s a slow and exhausting experience. A stiff-soled shoe like the Trail Glove allows me to run with greater abandon and therefore faster, and they protect my feet very well from the potentially painful protrusions underfoot, but I never feel like I have any grip and I’m always twisting my ankle sliding off of roots and rocks. The Vapor Glove is thin enough that I can feel the shape of the ground, just without the unpleasant (but educational!) points. The tradeoff is a higher risk of bruises on the sole. I’ll take a bruise over a twisted ankle any day. Besides, bruises can be avoided by running gently, right?

I feel ya, root.

I feel ya, root.

The difference between the road and the trail is mostly what the ground feels like. If the shoes I wear make me feel like I’m running on a road, I don’t feel like I’m really trail running (until I trip and/or twist an ankle). In the Vapors, there’s no doubt in my mind I’m on a trail.

I can run in them without socks, although my first outing in them were a cause for concern. I tied them too tight and bloodied my left big toe. Once I figured out the best lacing pattern for my feet, I’ve had no problems.

The best pattern for my feet. Don't be a slave to lacing conventionality!

The best pattern for my feet. Don’t be a slave to lacing conventionality!

So far, they have been resistant to stink and hold up to regular cleaning quite nicely. I think because the upper is so light and ventilated, the stink struggles to grow. Only time will tell on this one.

Speaking of the upper, it’s made of some kind of slightly stretchy material that allows room for wider feet (especially with loose lacing). This is where, to me anyway, there’s the greatest room for innovation. The sole of the Vapor is perfect. Now I’d like to see some variety on the upper to accomodate different foot shapes and styles. Velcro might be neat, although I seem to be a lonely fan of the stuff. A casual style would be nice. So would a classic-looking leather running shoe, one that harkens back to the flappers and art deco.

A great looking shoe as is, of course. Look at that sweet nothingness of the sole!

A great looking shoe as is, of course. Look at that sweet nothingness of the sole!

So, there it is, my last shoe review. There’s no point for me to write them any more. It’s not in a shoemaker’s interest to send me shoes, because all I’d have to say about the latest pair of whatevers is “see how they are not the Vapor? That’s what’s wrong with them.” Kind of like my last string of reviews. I really do like running barefoot, and it’s a little absurd that I have this closet full of shoes that I’m never going to wear. Look, I suppose if a shoe company has a shoe they think rivals the Vapor and they want to send me a pair, sure, I’ll mention them. But most likely, I’ll just pass them on to my similar foot-sized friend Der Scott. Maybe he’ll review them.

I have no idea how my last three less-than-glowing reviews of their products were received by Merrell; I hope they were at least entertained and appreciated my candor. I like to think that maybe in some way my criticisms were helpful. Probably not, but weirder things have happened I suppose. From my perspective, I really appreciate the risk they’ve taken by listening to and applying the opinions and ideas of people who think shoes are pointless much/most of the time. I also appreciate their efforts to educate runners on gentle running form, and their initiatives to get people active and outside. Of course, I’m also really happy they made the Vapor Glove.

So here’s the question: is it really a barefoot running blog if there are no shoe reviews? We’ll find out. My traffic will certainly diminish, but that’s fine. It’s not like I was some kind of blogging powerhouse anyway.

Benson Brawl 5K Report: Out-Barefooted, but Not Out-Run

It cannot be denied: I beat ac. With a strategy of psychological warfare and guts, I was the faster man on this day. But before I tell the tale of my competitive trickery, a hearty congratulations to my rival is in order: although he fell victim to my brain power (he is, after all, only human), he out-barefooted me. I will happily accept defeat in this category, because the guy is the real deal and ran very well on some pretty nasty surfaces. Kudos to you, rival.

My security blanket when I have to run fast in the rain. Which it didn’t. Rain, that is.

I shall relinquish my 1st place barefooter medal next time we meet. However, the race victory is mine all mine. The tape had no performance enhancing qualities, and actually disrupted my very important groundfeel (as pointed out by Maple Grove Barefoot Guy) and added weight to only one toe, throwing me wildly off-balance. But I persevered, and won. In fact, by being entirely barefoot, ac was the one with the advantage, making my victory that much more inspirational, I think. With that matter cleared up, on with the show.

I’m nowhere near racing shape or fighting weight, so I needed a plan. Ideally, if I could get him to hold his breath for a few seconds in the middle of the race, he would suffer a bout of intestinal distress when he starts the finish-line kick. This is a little-known scientific fact, but it’s true. Unfortunately I couldn’t think of how to get him to do this, so I let that tidbit sit in the back of my brain.

My completely true statements of unpreparedness were having no effect on ac. He remained convinced that I was faster then I was letting on, which worked against the plan I had in mind: to psychologically manipulate ac to run slow enough for me to hopefully out-kick him at the end. “Hey, if we’re in first and second, I’m cool with holding back a bit and go for the win at the three-mile beep. We’re both in training, after all, no need to kill ourselves, right?” I said. “How many seconds per pound is it for a 5K? I still have a lot of weight to lose,” I confessed. “I usually eat five pancakes and a western omelet before a 5K,” I lied. “What? You eat nothing? Hm, I’ll give that a try!” In fact I run on empty all the time.

Still, he seemed skeptical. If I was going to get him to let his guard down, I had only one option left: Operation Wheeze.

It is said that the wheeze can suck the life out of an otherwise faster runner. Something about reminding them of the inevitability of death. So as the race starts, I start breathing heavily. It wasn’t entirely an act, but I added a little sense of desperation to it. AC, running nearby, probably noticed it only on a deep, subconscious level. “Boy, this is feeling kind of hard,” said ac.

“It’s…nguh… the wind…”

“The wind? Oh, right, I suppose it is,” said a struggling ac.

There was no wind. AC is highly susceptible to the powers of suggestion.

“Oh, look ahead – chipseal!” I suggested, powerfully.

“Seriously?!?” exclaimed ac as his cadenced sped up, face grimacing.

I ran up right behind him, and pumped up the volume of my strangled gasping.

“You’re breathing really hard. Try taking a deep breath. In, hhhnnnnn, out, whooooooo.”

I couldn’t believe my luck. On a gold platter, he presented me with the Breath-Holding Kick-Killer card! I leaped into action. “That sounds… nguh… very zen. Hungh. Hungh.”

“Ha, it is! Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooommmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm…”

He fell for it! Excellent! Now all I had to do was hang on. No easy task, be he was now convinced that I wasn’t a threat so I was able to handle the pace. Whenever he started to speed up, I would say “goodness, more chipseal!” and he would slow down to something more manageable.

And then, there it was. The finish-line. It was time for me to gut it out. If I didn’t kick hard enough, ac would could still manage to beat me. No more mind games. Just kick, and kick hard. Not looking back, I finished the last .1 at a 4:45 pace. I won.

After the race, ac congratulated me. “Man, I don’t know what happened. I tried to go with you, but my stomach just seized up.” I felt a brief twinge of guilt.

So there it is. If you haven’t yet, go read ac’s account of the events. You’ll see his perspective confirms my account.