it was a fine idea at the time, now it’s a brilliant mistake

- elvis costello

a couple of years back, mark, over at completerunning.com started up a barefoot running program as part of his p0se running training.  he blogged long and often about his experience and how much he enjoyed the freedom.  a small seed was planted back in those days.

since i’ve basically cleared my calendar of races and most of what i do these days is trail running, i thought it might be fun to start up a barefoot running program, too.  and, after building up my endurance, i thought it might be even more entertaining to grab a pair of those vibram 5 finger socks and see if i could run trails “barefoot”.

so, with mooseman a memory, i picked last week as the time to start out on my maiden barefoot journey.  like virtually every physical challenge that has come before, i blindly jumped in without doing much research beforehand [because, really, if you can’t learn the lessons on your own, are you really LIVING the experience? [i say that tongue in cheek, because, if you haven’t guessed, i’m an idiot sometimes]].

repete and i have a weekly speedwork date at the uci track on thursdays and i thought to myself, “self, what a brilliant idea it would be to get your first taste of barefoot running on a RUBBER track!”  think about it…running the track keeps me from being stranded someplace if things go awry, i wouldn’t have to carry my shoes while running AND, rubber!  rubber is easy on the feet!  not like that nasty asphalt!  score!  brilliant!

so, repete and i head out on thursday for our 2.5mi warm-up to the uci track and i proclaimed proudly that today was the day i was going to start running barefoot.  repete, in his wisdom, opted to watch and learn.  we hit the track and i did a couple of mile intervals to start out and then headed to the side of the track, shed the shoes and strode bravely to the lap starting point.

the first thing i noticed was that the track was a bit warm.  it’s a faded dark blue rubber and it attracts the sun’s heat.  it wasn’t so hot that i couldn’t stand on it, but i did notice that it was on the hot side of warm.  the second thing i noticed was that the rubber isn’t smooth.  i guess i just never realized that, since i’d always worn shoes on it.  i commented to repete, “this is rougher than i thought it would be”.  but, c’mon, it’s RUBBER.  rubber is bouncy and soft and forgiving, right?

right.

so, off i went on my merry way.  i focused on landing on the balls of my feet and running light.  after one lap, the balls of my feet were burning.  not, “holy cow i’m on fire and gotta stop!” burning, but more of a “oh, this cumulative heat from the track is making my feet uncomfortable”.  so, i transitioned over to the grass on the inside of the track to take some of the “heat” off my feet.  running on the grass felt wonderful.  it felt like it was cooling my feet back down and by the time i’d run the straight-away, i figured i should transition back to the track to work on a more firm surface again.  i did this for the next two laps…run the straights on the grass, the curves on the track. 

it was going great, but, boy did my feet feel warm.  after the third lap, i was coming around the first turn and as soon as i hit the grass i felt like something was dangling from my left foot.  “oh, i picked up some grass clippings” i though, and i brushed off my foot.  half way down the straight, the sensation of something dangling from my foot was still there, so i stopped to take a look at my foot.

what i saw surprised me.  the ball of my foot was a sack of bloody skin.  it wasn’t dangling free, but it looked like a clear plastic bag of meat on the bottom of my foot.  i sat down and looked at the other foot.  it was worse.  my toes were shredded, too.  i was shocked.  i had NO idea that the sensation i had been feeling was me turning my feet into ground beef. 

i tenderly walked back to my shoes, wiped off my feet as best i could and put my socks and shoes back on.  my feet hurt now.  funny how i could have probably kept running, but the second i saw the damage i was doing, the pain set in.  i let repete know that i’d messed up my feet and began the long walk back to the ymca.

repete, being the class act that he is, caught up to me shortly after and told me he’d run on ahead and pick me up.  i walked the mile up to jamboree and waited for him there.  as i sat in the shade of a tree waiting for him, the pain began to transition into intense throbbing.  i could feel my feet beginning to swell.  brilliant me, too, had opted to wear my shoes rigged for triathlon [tight elastic laces with the only way to loosen them is to take out the laces].  repete showed up shortly after i sat down and performed the heroic task of driving me back to the gym.

i showered, drove by work to grab my laptop and headed home to work out of the house.  i had one singular thought on my mind and that was to get my feet into some ice.  as i hobbled into the house, smsmh greeted me with a look of horror.  i explained what i had done, expecting her to be upset; an immobile jeff is an immobile dad…one not able to contribute to the chasing around of a highly mobile offspring.  as i finished my story, smsmh did her best to give me a look of concern, but couldn’t contain herself any longer and began laughing.  whew.  at least we were both able to see the humor in the situation.

it’s been a couple days now, and the feet are healing up nicely.  i’m able to walk on them again and i don’t think there’s any long term damage.  the blood-sacks have dried up and don’t feel like they’re going to pop anymore.  mostly, it just feels like i’m walking on really bad bruises now. 

but, with that pain comes a blog post and some valuable lessons:

1. rubber CAN be hard
2. rubber tracks have the texture of a meat tenderizer
3. i have to treat barefoot running as if i’ve never run a day in my life.
4. sometimes it works to rtfm

soundtrack for this post
	lick: hipsters: wax:	Brilliant Mistake Elvis Costello The Very Best of Elvis Costello (1 of 2)

the little guy is growing up so fast, it’s amazing the changes we see in him from day to day.  even the short [no, 12 days is NOT short and is WAY to long to be away from home] time i was in the uk, i’ve noticed significant development in tc’s speach and dexterity.  not to mention his size.  the boy just turned two and is already over 3ft.  wow.

anyway, his ability to put thoughts and sentences together and the new words that he constantly throws out has me baffled and often times in hysterics.  take for example the discourse that we enjoyed in the car yesterday while driving to disneyland [what, you don’t go to disneyland after work for dinner?  gotta love annual passes!]:

tc: “see brandon denny-land” [tc’s friend who we might see when we get to d-land]

zq: “you’re going to see brandon?  where is he?”

tc: “over der” [points to the side of the freeway]

zq: “is he hiding behind the wall?”

tc: “yup”

zq: “is he hiding under the seat?”

tc: “yup”

zq: “is he hiding in your sippy cup?”

tc: “yup” [quickly takes a drink]

zq: “oh no!  you drank brandon!  did he taste good?”

tc: “yup!”

smsmh started talking and tc was quiet for a couple of minutes and then started up again:

tc: “OH NO!”

zq: “what’s up, schimmia?”

tc: “drink brandon!”

long pause

tc: “DEEEE-LICIOUS!”

soundtrack for this post
	lick: hipsters: wax:	Taste The Floor The Jesus & Mary Chain Psychocandy

once or twice a year, i end up in england on business. while over here, i try to make the best of the trip and get out to see some friends, participate in a race or just run/ride through the countryside. this time around, i started off the trip with a little race in new hampshire before flying across the pond. having worked hard last weekend, i wasn't sure how i'd be feeling this weekend, but in the off chance that the legs still felt like being abused, i brought gear. i packed my osprey trail pack, amphipod hand-held, sleeping bag liner, headlamp and salomon xt-wings. i was prepared to get frisky with the english peak district.

earlier in the week, i went out for a couple runs and was pleased to experience fresh legs. with those couple of successful runs under my belt, i made plans for something epic. i set plans in motion to go for a long trail run along the pennine way. i would have one of the lads from the office drop me off in crowden, where i'd pick up the trail, and head north. depending on pace and effort, i planned on putting in about 15-20 miles on friday evening and running past sunset. i had plans to just drop down into the grass [it's oh-so comfy out there] and sleep for a couple hours. i'd get up as the sky got light and head back out, running about 10-15 miles all the way back to the hotel.

the start went off without a hitch. david, one of the lads from the office, had taken me by a shop to load up on food and i was all set with a couple sandwiches, some bread and shropshire blue and a huge hunk of parkin. i trotted up out of crowden, climbing the huge bluff looking down on the valley below and made my way into the wild. every few minutes, i came across sheep grazing. mostly young lambs with the mothers, but also the occasional ram. as i ran along, i was constantly reminded of their presence; the baa-ing echoing up out of the valley below.

the trail wound along a steep cliff and continued to take me up higher and higher. every climb was a low angle, though and not steep enough to really see the length of the climb or what the summit would like like. eventually the route topped out somewhat in a high depression. the trail wandered along a stream, but then started moving into what appeared to be a bog.

whether the trail truly died or if i just wasn't paying attention, at one point i found myself wading through black peat. it was completely un-runnable, and each step i took sunk in well up to the calf. i carefully picked my way along, trying to stick to clumps of grass and trying to spot any area that appeared to be more worn or traveled than another. i scouted around and memories came to me of characters in books getting lost in the moors or wandering through the bogs in middle earth. it became quickly apparent how easy it would be to get lost out here, or to get stuck. i continue to gingerly navigate my way towards where i thought i needed to go, marveling at the terrain that was completely new to me.

eventually, i spotted what looked like a trail and before i knew it, i was back on the pennine way proper. at this point, volunteers had lain slabs of limestone, end to end, to create a wonderfully textured path. i hopped a fence that marked the end of the bog area and followed the trail up a wonderfully dark hill. the trail topped out at a spot aptly named 'black hill'. the wind was brisk and being quite wet from perspiration, i stopped only long enough to snap a couple of shots. it was absolutely beautiful, though. it reminded me of some of the remote, high desert areas in california; bridgeport, bodie. only here there was life, everywhere. sheep grazed, grasses grew, birds scattered as i ran. i even spotted a momma, poppa and two baby grouse crossing the trail.

england's green and pleasant land, indeed.

from black hill, the trail dropped elevation and eventually crossed a motorway, depositing me into the wessenden reservoir area. the trail continued to drop down and i made a mental note that i was going to have to climb back up that again at some point. the trail wound through a section of countryside where huge caverns had been carved in the earth by running water. i could hear it echoing up from the black areas. strange bird sounds echoed across this area and i could easily see how someone wandering through here could come up with fantastical creatures and mythical stories.

into the reservoir area, i started seeing mountain bikers and the occasional walker. i figured i was nearing the m62 and a more populated area. the trail hooked up with a dirt road for a while, but then cut back off onto the customary singletrack. after a tough climb up out of a deep canyon, the trail met with a radio antenna on a hillside. it offered a great vantage looking down on the reservoirs and trail below. the sounds of the sheep baa-ing echoed up again. it was about 8pm at this point, so i decided to take a break and eat some dinner.

i chowed on one of my sandwiches, had a little of the cheese [mmm, it smelled like feet but it tasted like heaven!] and then finished off the meal with a couple bites of the parkin. oh, man, was that good. it was like a spice cake with molasses added in. it was moist, flavorful and went down easy. i think i discovered my new long-run solid food favorite. i waited a bit for the food to settle and then headed on. within another mile or so, i hit the m62 and decided to go ahead and turn around. if i ran part way back, i'd hit about 15-17 miles and that'd be a good start, leaving about 13-15 miles for saturday morning.

i turned around and headed back the way i came. the neat thing about running the out-and back, was seeing the same area from the reverse perspective. while the terrain was more of the same, it was neat to see the trail wind down below, or up above, where i hadn't been able to see it before. as i ran along, the sun finally set and the sky made it's slow transition into dark. at about 9:30, just past the peat bog area, i decided to go ahead and find a spot to sleep for the night. i poked around the bluff-top and found a nice little spot, sheltered from the wind and with a good collection of grass. i pulled up some more grass to give some extra padding, pulled out my sleeping bag liner and changed into some dry clothes.

i ate a little more of the parkin and then crawled into the liner to get some shut eye. no sooner had i started to doze off when something taping on my face woke me up. i was a little confused as to what it was and then i realized it was rain. it wasn't coming down hard, but the clouds overhead looked as if they had a load that they were itching to dump. i had a rain shell, but nothing to keep my lower half dry, or my gear, so i figured the smart thing to do would be to pack up and head on out.

within a couple miles, i was back at the trailhead and it wasn't even 11pm. there was a small village up the road and i'm sure i remembered seeing a pub [duh, what village doesn't have a pub?] so, i put the headlamp on backward, flashing and headed out along the road. after about 30 minutes or so, i rolled into tintwistle and came to a stop in front of 'the old oak'. the lights were on and i could hear voices inside, so i took a minute to cool down, stretch and then in i went.

i must have been a sight. i was still wearing shorts, my legs, shoes and socks were covered in black mud and i was wearing a bright orange rain shell. i walked up to the pub, asked the barmaid for some water, a pint of bitter and a taxi. the two lads at the bar headed outside for a smoke, so the barmaid chatted me up while i waited for the taxi. turns out her husband is american and currently working in florida. after a couple of minutes and about half way through my pint, two new lads came in. i could tell that they'd been at it for a while as the one closest to me was having a hard time ordering and every time he'd turn toward me, he was close-talking.

he took a real fancy to my orange shell and kept commenting on how i looked like a carrot. i tried to make light of his comments, saying, "yeah, all i need is green hair". but you never know with those types of situations, whether the guy will laugh or take offense. he seemed to be in good spirits, but he was so off his rocker, that i was glad when the driver came in and said, "taxi for jeff".

it was a quick drive back to the hotel and it was before midnight when i pulled up in front of reception. it wasn't the ideal end to my adventure, but i'd had a good, solid 21 miles on the pennine way and had a new appreciation for the wilds of england and it's authors who wrote about it.

so, both warren and bill have drafted epic-style race reviews and i would be a slacker if i didn't offer up the same [seeing as how i'm in the hotel pub on a sunday afternoon with no sports on the telly]. so, here goes...

sing, o goddess, the anger of bonk, son of bullwinkle, that brought countless ills upon the moosemen. many a brave soul did it send hurrying down to hades, and many a hero did it yield a prey to dogs and vultures...

the day dawned early after a restless night sleep. it seems even warren received a better night sleep that i, and he was in a bag on the floor of the b&b. despite the poor night sleep, i felt fairly alert and ready to race. the week leading up to the race had been touch and go. i had been experiencing a very tight lower back [due, mostly in part, to the stress of all the plans for the month of june, no doubt]. i had run on it successfully a couple times since it started bothering me. when i crawled out of bed on race morning and didn't feel the familiar tightness, i knew i'd have a good day.

i had slept like a baby at flipperhead's place the night before, so even with a poor night on race night, i knew that i'd rested well on the important day. pre-race nutrition and hydration were mostly intact and aside from forgetting a transition towel and goggles[!!! thanks for saving me there, warren], things were going smoothly. warren and i grabbed some quick food from the b&b and headed out to the start.

transition setup went quite smoothly and i was set to go quickly. i headed over to where bill and warren were racking to find out i'd just missed the heart-attack and drama of warren finding out he was missing a pedal. once again, the guys from mc cycle pulled through [that was the shop i'd shipped my bike through - great service and great guys]. by the time i made contact with the guys, all three of us were ready to head to the start. looking like a tootsie roll brigade, we headed out.

the first wave was off almost as soon as we showed up so we quickly waded into the lake for a water start. i did my part to warm up the lake [so glad i didn't have to go while swimming, that's such a weird sensation], although the water didn't bother me as much as it seems to have affected warren and bill. we got the "go, go, go!" and we were off.

i immediately had my face in the water and focusing on my stroke and breathing. about 100-150 yards in, i noticed my heart rate was through the roof and also that i was near the front of our wave. how did that happen? i backed off on my stroke and settled into a comfortably strong pull. i loved the swim course. the spacing of the buoys, not needing to sight into the sun, the calm lake [there was some chop, but not like ocean swimming], it was a perfect course. i rounded the last turn before expected and the finishing buoy came up quickly. i came out of the water in 35 minutes [4 min faster that wildflower, ifrc] and made a beeline for t1.

i grabbed everything i needed and boogied out of transition. as i was trotting my bike to the exit, i spotted warren in t1 and shouted a word of encouragement. i was pumped and feeling good. i'd nailed the swim and that is always the leg that concerns me the most. onto the bike, i started hammering along the course. we had driven the route the day before and that had eased my concerns quite a bit. there were two climbs of note on the route [to be done twice]. the first was short and steep, not unlike the hill that i live on and the second was long and gradual, not unlike the the climb up jamboree back home. both were manageable and in reality, when i hit them, they didn't pose much challenge.

i really felt like i was being somewhat competitive on the bike. i'd get passed on the downhills, hold my own on the flats and pass most people on the climbs. i'm confident that no-one on a tri bike passed me on a climb. that made me happy to have not spent money on a tri bike, but instead opted to rely on my trusty felt. i must have pushed a little hard on the first loop, because when the second came around, i was posting positive splits. somewhere around the 40 mile mark, i tried stretching out my hamstrings on a downhill. i noticed a distinct tightness and pain in my left lower back. uh-oh. i hadn't thought about how the bike would affect my back. on the rest of the downhills, i decided to try to stretch out instead of spinning. i wasn't too concerned yet, but i knew there was a possibility of having some difficulty when i headed into t2.

by the time i hit mile 50, my legs were gone. my longest ride up to that point had been two 40 mile loops through santiago canyon [one of which was a 40/10 brick]. i was finding it hard to get up even the easy climbs, but i was so close to t2, the smell of the barn pushed me on. wellington state park came quicker than i expected and before i knew it, i was rounding the turn into t2. i looked at the watch and was happy to see 2:54 and a 19mph average. i came to a stop at the dismount line, unclipped and stepped off the bike.

and i couldn't stand.

my lower back was so tight and in so much pain, all i could do was shuffle into transition bent over like a crone. i was having such a GREAT race, and now i'd been thrown this ugly curve-ball. what to do? could i run? could i run 13 miles like this? should i dnf? i moved through t2 slowly and shuffled my way onto the run. i'd try a little bit and see how it felt. from the runs earlier in the week, i remembered how the more i ran, the better my back had felt. i stood up straight after i crossed the run mat and took a couple steps.

it hurt.

i stopped, did some quick stretches and started off again. i received some words of encouragement from volunteers and those propelled me into a proper run. slowly, i worked on my pace. it hurt, but the pain was manageable. i just kept moving, hoping that my theory was correct. by mile four, i was able to run a fairly normal stride and had sped up to somewhere in the mid 7 min mile area. that pace and the pain really took it's toll, though. by the time i headed out on the second six mile loop, i had to back off the pace and was relegated to somewhere in the high 8 min pace and eventually the 9's. i estimate that i lost about 15 minutes on the run, based off of what i was able to do in all of my brick workouts.

by the time i hit mile 11, though, i could smell the barn again and any pain and fatigue be damned, i was going to power into the finish. i stretched out my stride and did my best to put in a good finishing kick. about this time i spotted bill heading out on his second run loop. he waved and shouted and all i could do back was give him the thumbs up.

i hit the final turn, made the run along the beach and then turned into the finishing chute. i flexed and waved as i raced down to the finish, my name was called, i crossed the line and i was done. i staggered through the finishing area, grabbed a ton of watermelon, ate crackers, drank and just basked in the realization that i didn't have to exert myself anymore. after a while, i remembered that i was DONE and turned around to look at the finish line clock. it said 5:37. how long had i been eating? i wasn't sure. dropping four minutes from the time gave me 5:33 and i was sure i'd been done for more than three minutes. had i broken 5:30?

my goals for the day had been broken up into my traditional bronze, silver, gold. bronze being "finish upright", silver had been sub 6 hour [pretty much tying my performance at wildflower] and gold had been to break 5:30. i thought that was a lofty goal, seeing as how i hadn't trained as hard as wildflower. seeing that time on the clock, confident that i had indeed broken 5:30, despite the back pain and dropping some significant time on the run, was the salve that soothed the poor run performance and gave me the feeling of success.

i walked out of the finishers area, stretched a bit, went and stood in the lake for a while and just continued to bask in the joy of being done. soon enough, bill came through the finishers chute and then shortly after, warren. it was great to have the two of them there to celebrate with. both of them had experienced great races and based on their reports, had a fantastic experience with the race. the race had been fun, challenging and exciting, but the thing that really made the day was the stellar company. our bond of friendship re-forged through fatigue and common struggle. we had emerged, heroes triumphant.

well, this week kicks off the start of some big summer plans.  well…mainly for the month of june, but depending how this month goes, the rest of the year might end up being a whirlwind/rollercoaster.

friday, i head off the east coast to hook up with flipperhead, warren and bill for a little triathlon fun.  bill, warren and i are all racing mooseman 70.3 this sunday.  flipper had planned on racing as well, but with a recent injury and starting a new career she didn’t think she’d be up for the distance.  that’s okay, her moral support will be most welcome and i know we’ll talk her into something equally or more crazy in the near future.

as for the race, i’m excited.  i don’t think i’ve trained as hard as i did for wildflower, but i’m not as anxious as i was for that race, either.  i have a big goose-egg for open water swims and my longest ride this year has been 40mi, but i still feel good.  i’ve had some pretty decent brick workouts over the last few months, so my confidence is still high.  i’m not sure what my goals are for race day, though.  i think i’ll gauge how i feel race morning and either determine to race hard or just enjoy the day [actually, either way i’ll be enjoying the day]. 

the race is this coming sunday, june 7th, so if you’re home and on the internet, stop by their website and check out the live internet broadcast of the race.  my bib number is 285 and i’m in the second/day-glow green wave, departing at 7: 04. 

following the race, i’ll be hoofing it over to manchester, uk for another work trip.  i get to spend a weekend in country and am hoping that i can swing a trip to the peak district to get in some fun trail running.  the little taste that i had last year with bill really has me wanting to do something in the 20-30mi range this time around.

then, i come back.  and this is where the REAL fun starts.  upon my return to the states, i’ll be heading up to the yosemite area to stay with the in-laws for a few weeks.  they recently put their house on the market and decided to buy a retirement place up in coarsegold [just outside of yosemite’s south entrance].  for those few weeks that we’ll be staying with them, i’ll be participating in a trial run with work to determine if i can work remotely on a permanent basis.

also, while in coarsegold, we’ll be looking at real estate, quality of living, schools, etc and if we like what we find AND i get the green light from work to tele-commute, we’ll be pulling up stakes too and setting up camp in the foothills of the sierras.  so, if that all pans out, then the rest of the summer is going to be nuts-o with moving and whatnot.

so, lots of big stuff happening.  i’m excited and anxious for what june holds!

soundtrack for this post
	lick: hipsters: wax:	Home Foo Fighters Echoes, Silence, Patience & Grace