My First Barefoot Ultramarathon: The Skyline 50K - Part I

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The Skyline 50K is a trail run held the first Sunday in August in Castro Valley, California.  I knew it might be a tough one.  First of all, I knew that the course was very hilly.  Second, I live in a flat town.  There are no hills in the immediate area in which to train regularly.

A few weeks prior to the race, I headed out there with my wife’s cousin to scout out part of the course on mountain bikes.  I realized quickly that there were some steep hills.  Reviewing the course profile, I realized that there were some stretches that lasted a mile or more.  So, after seeing the course first hand and reading about other ultramarathoners strategies for racing, I decided that my plan of attack would be to walk as fast as I could on the uphills and make up time on the downs and flats.

In the weeks leading up to the race I had fallen behind on my training due to the general demands of life with a family.  The longest training run I was able to manage was 20.5 miles mostly on flat asphalt.  (I was supposed to hit 24 miles as a peak run.)  I tried to work at least one run a week on trails.  However, the trail that was closest to me was, again, basically flat.

Despite my training flaws, I was feeling confident that I could complete the 31.65-mile course in under the 8-hour time limit.  I did have a secret goal time, but we’ll get back to that later.

I had officially signed up for the race the Tuesday night before the race.  Up until that point, my nerves hadn’t really kicked in.  After registering I felt a looming presence every time I thought about the race.  Fortunately, I was able to overcome those feelings with positive visualization of me completing the race.

The day before the race I organized my gear.  This was my first race where I’d be allowed a drop bag (stay tuned for more on that).  I packed my second bandana, extra salt caps, pretzel sticks, and CLIF Shots.  I also made some bags of Cytomax powder to mix on the run just in case the course sports drink wasn’t agreeing with me.  Lastly, I threw in my VFFs.  This last-resort precaution was in case the trail became truly barefoot unfriendly.

That night, I was still running around the house making sure everything was packed in the right bag.  Then about bedtime, I realized I had not repaired and re-tied my huarache sandals.  I pulled up a couple of videos from Invisible Shoes and got them situated.  My huaraches were my immediate backup if sections of the trail where I suspected gravel were un-bare-able.  These I placed in the slip pouch of my hydration pack.

Considering my normal sleepless night before a big race, I slept pretty well.  I woke up at 4 a.m. without any grogginess.  I showered, applied generous amount of Body Glide in all of the necessary areas and then some – then tossed it in my drop bag, just in case.  I cooked some oatmeal and tossed in a bit of chia seeds for good measure.  I packed up the remaining goodies, pulled my water bottle, containing Cytomax, out of the fridge, loaded up the car and headed out.

The drive to the race took just over an hour.  As I was exiting the freeway I began to feel a bit nauseous.  I started wondering if I was going to toss my breakfast before the race.  I arrived at the park without incident, parked, then headed over to the check-in table in picnic area.  After I got my bib, I noticed something that I had seen at Western States – many runners had folded their bib to a small rectangle bearing their number only. 

“Hmm . . . Is this how the ultra-crowd does it?

Next headed over to the restrooms to . . . well, we’ll skip that part. 

I head back to my car to get my gear.  I did one last check of my bags to make sure everything was there.  I put on the hydration pack and my water belt. 

Hmm . . . Now where to affix my bib? 

The area on the front of my shirt was now crowded by the shoulder straps of the pack and my water belt covered my waist.  I did see someone attach the entire unfolded bib to their shorts.  That looked way too awkward as the bib practically covered the entire front of one leg. 

“Well,” I thought, “if I’m going to become one of these ultra guys today, maybe I should fold my number.”

The folded number looked much more manageable on my shorts, so I kept it that way and headed back to the staging area with my drop bag.

While waiting for the start of the race a gal named Micky asked if I was going to run in my huaraches.

I said, “No, I’m taking them off for the race.”

“You’re going to race completely barefoot.”

“Yep.”

“That’s great!”

That was probably the first time at the start of a race where someone was not completely puzzled by my racing barefoot.  This was actually a sign of many great conversations to come along the course.

I wandered over towards the grass area by the marina and awaited the start.  A couple more people asked me about racing barefoot.  And then, after a few minutes of chatting someone stood up on something near the front of the pack and said, “GO!”  It was kind of anti-climactic.  I was expecting an air horn or some RAH RAH speech over a bunch of loud speakers before the start like at most races. 

So, we were off.

The first couple of miles of the Skyline are along Lake Chabot on a paved bike path.  The start is fairly smooth but it deteriorates the further away you get from the marina.  It never breaks down to something completely barefoot unfriendly, but it does not maintain a consistent surface.  By the time you reach the dam, the asphalt has turned into something more like chip seal, but again nothing unmanageable.  (Note:  I have run barefoot on 9 miles of pretty rough chip seal during a previous half marathon – this wasn’t that bad.)

As I mentioned before, my strategy for the race was to walk, fast, up hills of any significant length while bombing down the hills and across the flats.  In the opening few miles, there were a few moderate hills that many people chose to walk.  The good part about this was that even though I was fresh, I was able to maintain about a 15-minute pace while conserving energy, then blast down the other side.

Not long after crossing the dam the thinning group moved onto a nice dirt fire road and trails.  While running on the Goldenrod Trail, I noticed several people stopping and shouting about something.  As I passed by I realized wasps or bees had stung them.  Just as I made this realization, a fiery sensation sunk into my left shoulder. 

Damn!  Wasps!

This happened to me the last year at my first barefoot 10K trail run in an area not too far from here.  I started running faster to move out of the area where they were apparently swarming.  After I had gone a hundred yards or so, I slowed down to check my shoulder.  I found a nice half-inch welt at the top of my shoulder.

“Great!” I thought.  “I’m only at something like mile 3.”

And as I was thinking that, another fiery sensation hit me in the outside of my right thigh.

Shit.  More wasps!

I started running faster again.  A few others around me were dealing with the same thing.  Throughout the rest of the day I spoke with others who had been stung on their arms and legs.  One poor guy had gotten stung or bit multiple times on his back. 

As things settled down, I reached the first aid station, Grass Valley at 4.3 miles, with water and Gu2O only.  No problem – oh wait, no cups, they were only filling bottles.  Well, since my pack and bottle were still full, I plowed ahead.  I think at this point I was chatting with a guy named Gary, I think he was running with TNT.  As we were quickly running down a hill towards a cattle gate, I realized that there was a patch of large gravel at the bottom before the gate.  With a quick shifting of lanes I managed to maneuver around Gary and the gravel and arrive safely at the gate.  After another mile, the trail opened up to some nice rolling, grass-covered hills. 

Gary was running a pretty good pace, so I dropped back on a hill so we each could run our own race.  This part of the trail was quite nice to run on – mostly dirt and only about 300 feet of gradual gain in elevation.   It was also the shortest section between aid stations - about 2 miles.  Bort Meadow was the first full aid station at 6.29 miles into the course.  I approached the Bort Meadow aid station I was greeted with a very broken paved path and the gravel parking lot.  The path and parking lot were manageable since my feet were quite fresh. 

I dumped the last quarter of my Cytomax and had my bottled refilled with Gu2O.  As I headed down the trail again I swung my pack around and pulled out some shot bloks, quickly downed a few, packed the rest into my belt and got moving again.  I was very conscious of staying hydrated and keeping my electrolytes balanced.  This always seemed to be my challenge in marathons and I did not want it to ruin my shot at my first ultra.

Leaving Bort Meadow the trail begins one of the steeper climbs – about 400 feet in just over a mile.  For someone who had not trained on hills, it seemed like a never-ending mile.  Along this section of trail, I chatted with a guy named Doanh.  He had done the course before and didn’t seem to be in too much of a hurry.  We took turns leading and falling behind for the next few miles.  I fell behind more, but caught up with him at Big Bear aid station. 

I reached Big Bear a little over an hour and a half into the run.  As I was getting my bottle filled and downing some bananas, the gal there asked us if we needed any S!Caps.  I had a stash of Hammer electrolytes in my pack, but didn’t want to dig them out.  So, I took my first ever S! Caps and headed out of the station and across the road to the trail.  My hope was that the S! Caps and Hammer Electrolytes would be the answer to my weakness during distance races – the dreaded dry heaves.

The first two miles out of Big Bear were a lot of nice single-track trail.  However, there was a section of gravel-strewn path that ran through a couple of gravel parking lots leading to the Canyon Meadow Staging Area.  It was more annoying than painful to run across and I was happy to get back onto the dirt fire roads leading out of Canyon Meadow.  Well, mostly happy.  The fire roads leading out are the start of a 3-mile, 750+ foot (that’s net) climb to Skyline Gate.

As I was approaching Skyline gate, the foggy mist was wafting over the trail.  I was looking down into one of the canyons.  I popped out my camera to take a shot.   It was then that I realized that the orange fencing along the left side of the trail was not just any fence, but electrical fence holding back a large herd of goats.  This lapse in focus actually was the hint of something more to come.  

I made my way past the goats and their goat-herder’s trailer.  At this point the trail became mostly gravel as it was leading to the paved path into Skyline Gate.  I looked at my GPS watch and it said I had gone about 13.7 miles or so.  Skyline was supposed to be at 14.4.  Later in the race I realized that my watch was losing count on miles due to heavy tree cover.  However, at the time, I couldn’t get my head wrapped around what was happening. 

I heard someone shout, “Welcome to Skyline Gate!” as myself and a few other runners were entering the area.  I wandered up to the table and again grabbed some bananas.  I also popped a salted potato for good measure (I had seen these at Western States and was curious).   Next I got my bottle filled.

Before heading out, I pulled out my cell phone to text my family my location.  I had given a chart to my wife to calculate splits for 10-minute, 12-minute and the cut-off 15-minute miles for each aid station.  The idea was to be at the finish with our kids and my parents at the finish when I got there.  The time was just before 10 a.m. - which put me about a half hour ahead of the cut-off.  To this point, I had been averaging about a 12-minute pace.  I had hopes for 10-minutes, but satisfied with 12s.  In my head, I guesstimated that I would be finishing over 6 hours, but in under 7.  Having sent out my message, I headed out of Skyline and back onto the fire-road.

Like I said before, this was the first race I’ve done that had drop bags.  However, I had been so preoccupied with getting some food in, bottle filled, and pondering what the hell was going on with my watch that I failed to get my bag before leaving Skyline.  It was about a half mile down the trail that I realized my error.  I decided that there was no way I was running back to the station.  I quickly catalogued in my mind what supplies I had in my pack.  I figured I had just enough shot bloks to get me to the finish.  Worst case, I had some Jelly Belly Sports Beans and there was always stuff at the aid stations.  With that I settled back into my run.

My First Presentation on Barefoot Running & related news article

Last Monday, July 18, 2011, I gave my first formal talk on Barefoot Running at the local REI in Stockton, CA.  There was quite a good turn out.  The room was pretty much full and had a handful of familiar faces - my parents (of course), my wife's cousin (who is now training barefoot with me), a couple of my old shod training buddies, a neighbor, and the father of a buddy of mine (both of whom are runners.  It also turned out that one of my high school PE coaches was present in the audience.  He approached me after the talk.  That was pretty cool.

Going into the presentation I was worried that I would not be able to fill the time slot of an hour plus.  In the end, it was perfectly timed.  I had intended to video the presentation and even had the camera set up.  However, in my nervous state just before the talk, I forgot to turn on the camera!

For the presentation I gave a brief introduction of how I came to BFR, a little about the Barefoot Runners Society, a brief history of BFR, how to get started in BFR, and a discussion of minimalist running.  I had planned to show a couple of short video clips of Barefoot KenBob, Last Place Jason, and Lieberman's video of impact forces, however, due to a technical glitch in my powerpoint I was unable to play the videos.  Nonetheless, the night went fairly well and people seemed to enjoy the talk.  I hope that the local barefoot running scene picks up, since it would be nice to have some local runners to train with. 

I may offer to do a class on the actual implementation of BFR next time rather than just talking about it.  All in all, I had fun.

This is the link to the article that The Record did on barefoot running in advance of my presentation last Monday night at REI in Stockton.  Enjoy!

http://www.recordnet.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20110718/A_LIFE/107160313/-1/A_LIFE

2011 Western States 100 Endurance Run

What an experience!!!  What else can I say?

I have been a runner for the past 5 years.  In those years I have never volunteered at a race.  So, for my first volunteer experience I thought I'd help out at a little known race - the Western States 100-mile Endurance Run.   I spent the day at the Forest Hill Aid Station at mile-62 of the Run.

My day actually began earlier in the morning at the Run 4 Independence in Elk Grove, CA.  I had trained several staff and parents from the school I work at to run their first 10K.  So, the first part of my day began with me cheering on my runners.  I also bumped into fellow barefoot runner, Running Romeo, and his son who were racing in the 5K.  Romeo (aka Rob), running barefoot, and his son, in Vibrams, had an exciting sprint to the finish with Rob edging out his son at the line.  Congratulations to Janice, Jeannie, Jessica and Kathy for completing their first 10K!  Additional note, Jeannie ran the race in water shoes.

Running Romeo & Son at Run 4 Independence

My 10K Runners and I at Run 4 Independence

 
After the 10K race was done and congratulations and water were passed around.  I headed up the hill toward the little town of Forest Hill.  I made a quick call to my wife to check the latest information coming from the race.  The leaders were about a third of the way along the course.  "Amazing," I thought.

When I arrived at Forest Hill, the town was buzzing with spectators, volunteers, and crews all over the tiny town.  Cars were lined up and down the street.  I walked up to the volunteer booth and checked in and got my "Race Official" T-shirt. 

My job - "Greeter".  Now, when I first found out this is what I was going to be doing, I thought, "Oh great, I'm going to be directing spectators and answering questions all day."  My wife joked (in a very jovial, sarcastic voice), "Did you stand around all day saying to the runners, 'Hi, my name is Terry.  How are you today?'"

My actual experience that day was as far from those scenarios as you could get.  I got to run alongside runners as they arrived at mile-62 and guide them through the aid station.  I made sure they made it to the weigh-in station with the doctors, took their bottles and packs and got them filled with whatever they needed, made sure they had an opportunity to eat, guided them to their crew or dropbag and made sure they got checked-out of the aid station.

I was standing by the entrance to the aid station when the front-runners, including winner WS100 Killian Jornet, came racing through the aid station about 2:30 in the afternoon.  I was fortunate enough to run fellow barefoot/minimalist runner "Last Place Jason" Robillard through the station and hang out with his crew for a short time.  I was even standing by when THE MAN, Gordy Ainsley, passed through the aid station that night (unfortunately Gordy dropped there at Foresthill).

Switching out shoes and clearing blisters

Jason and his pacer leaving Forest Hill

When Jason was coming through the aid station, he asked about the 24-hour cut off.  I had to break the news to him that he was 45 minutes behind the cutoff.  However, he was safely inside the 30-hour cutoff time.  Jason took some time with his crew to change out his shoes and lance and clear a few blisters.  Then, Jason and his pacer headed back out onto the course with hopes of clinching a silver Western States buckle.

One of the most amazing things I noticed that day was how strong so many of the runners appeared as they arrived at the aid station.  I mean, really now, you just ran 62 miles over snow, through canyons and over mountains and you look like that?   Many of the runners were in high-spirits.  They were smiling and waving at the crowds.  They were grateful and courteous to the many volunteers at the station.  Several runners entered the station holding up digital cameras to record video of the scene at Forest Hill.  One video, made by James Elson from London, England shows the approach to the Forest Hill aid station (you can see me at about 50 seconds on the right side of the screen escort him into the station).  Others had their children running alongside as they approached the station.  It was quite an eventful day.

I am truly impressed by the dedication and organization of the aid-station captain Lon Monroe.  That man knows how to run a ship.  Watching Lon work was amazing.  Everything had a clear plan.  Though Lon had extremely high expectations for everyone and everything at the aid station, he ran the crew with humility and a sense of humor.  At our pre-opening meeting, Lon would sometimes answer a question with a humorous comment as if he had no idea what we were all doing there.  You could often find him checking on individual runners (he seemed to know many of them) to see how they were doing.

Most of the runners I saw were strong through mile-62, a few were badly beaten.  I saw one runner who had so many blisters on his feet they ended up removing the skin on the bottom and replacing it with tape, powdered his feet, put on dry socks and shoes and sent him on his way - AMAZING!

At about 30 minutes to closing, an official blew an airhorn 3 times.  Minutes later a crowd of bobbing headlamps could be seen charging up the hill toward us.  This happened two more times at 20 minutes and 10 minutes - each time a small crowd rushing toward the aid station to beat the cutoff.  The last runner I escorted through the aid station was a Swede who wanted to call it quits.  He entered the station with less than 5 minutes to the cutoff.  Many of us volunteers encouraged him to pick up a pacer and get out of the aid station gate (he had less than 2 minutes before the last cutoff).  He managed to continue onto the next aid station 3+ miles down the trail before ultimately dropping.

After the final horn, the volunteers broke down the aid station and packed away all of the gear.  It was pretty quick work - about 45 minutes or so.  I headed down the road to Placer High School to see what was going on at the finish line.  Cars lined the streets surrounding the school.  The football field was covered with tents.  I found a parking spot and wandered over to the field.  When I asked an official at the runner info tent, I was surprised and delighted to hear that Jason had picked up about an hour of time and was likely to finish under the 24 hour cutoff.  With that I called it a day and hopped in my truck for the long drive home. 

The Finish Line for the Western States 100

View from above the stadium

As it turned out, barefoot/minimalist runner, Jason Robillard did manage to pick up just over an hour of time and finished at 23:39 to receive the coveted Silver Western States buckle!  Congratulations, "Last Place Jason".  It was truly a privilege to be present at such an awesome race - what an amazing experience!

Western States 100

So, it's official!  I'm working at the aid station at mile 62 of the Western States 100!!!!

I am very excited to be a part of my first ultramarathon.  I have been training for the past month gearing up for my first ultra, the Skyline 50k at the beginning of August.  So, to get a glimpse of these hard core ultramarathoners is going to be a real treat!

I'm hoping to meet "Last Place Jason" Robillard author of The Barefoot Running Book: A Practical Guide to the Art and Science of Barefoot and Minimalist Shoe Running.

Good luck to all runners racing this coming Saturday for the Western States 100!  See you there!

Avenue of the Vines Half Marathon

My 2nd barefoot half marathon is officially done!  That being said, I should probably change my name to "Stubborn" Barefoot Terry.

Why, you may ask?

Well, let's start with being under trained for this race.

For some reason, the Avenue of the Vines Half Marathon seems to come at a time when I'm not fully trained up for the distance.  I've run this race twice now - the first time was the inaugural race (I was still running shod).  I had run the California International the previous December and had not put in much serious running since.  Yet, I was compelled to run this race because it was the inaugural race and the most local half marathon around at the time.  I suffered for my lack of training and ran/walked the second half of the race.  I finished at 2:22:49.  Not bad, but easily a half hour over my PR.

If you've been following my journey, you know that a couple months ago I had a terrible cough/cold that put me out of commission for two months.  Prior to getting sick I had completed my first barefoot half marathon and was working my way toward a 50K race in March.  Since recovering from my illness, my training miles have been sorely lacking.  I've been lucky recently to get out a couple days a week at best for short runs, but nothing very long.  In fact, since coming back my longest run was a 10K for International Barefoot Running Day on May 1, 2011. 

The day before the race I was feeling very much "off".  I had slight nausea, dizziness, achiness, and let's just say issues in the bathroom.  I tried to sleep it off through the day and missed a family baby shower.  My goal in sleeping was to be able to attend my son's first communion and dinner that night.  I made it through dinner but was not feeling great and likely a bit dehydrated.  My son, however, must have had something similar because he vomited twice that evening before we managed to get home.

I informed my parents that I was unsure if I would run the race the next morning.  Both of my parents were going to be running in this year's event - Dad in the 5K and Mom in the half marathon (wearing VFFs).  Since they were planning to drive me to the race, I told them to text me in the morning.

Strangely, sleep came pretty quick that night (I never manage to sleep early or well before races). However, I slept very lightly and got up a few times during the night.  I woke at 5 a.m. to be ready to leave by 5:45.  I showered and went down to get some breakfast.  As the oatmeal was cooking, I found myself doubting that I would be able to stomach anything.  I managed half a bite of oatmeal before my parents arrived.  I grabbed my water bottle, belt, and huarache sandals and headed out.

After we had parked,  I headed over to the winery to get my bib.

A very tall gentleman stopped me and asked if I'd be running in my sandals. 

"Nope," I said.  "I'll be running barefoot."

Like most people who inquire of us barefoot runners, he was amazed.  We wished each other luck and I headed off.

After I had retrieved my number and timing chip, I wandered outside to find my parents again.  Dad was running around getting warmed up.  My mom however took to pointing out the various clusters of runners who were pointing and talking about me standing there in my sandals.

A couple of ladies approached me to ask the usual set of questions -
   - Are you really running like that?
   - So, your feet must be really calloused, right?
   - Can we see the bottom of your feet?

I chatted with them and answered their questions.  Then one asked, "But, doesn't that hurt?"

I've been reading Barefoot KenBob's new book, Barefoot Running Step By Step, and thought it was the perfect time to use one of his responses.

"Don't those hurt your feet?"  I asked, pointing at their shoes.

The ladies laughed and took the point graciously.

My parents and I caught an event photographer to take our picture before the races started.  Then my mom and I headed over to the starting area.  My father went to wait for the 5K (which would start 15 minutes behind us).

My mom and I lined up for the race.  I could see a few clusters of people chatting and pointing at my feet (something I've grown accustomed to).  A few last minute announcements about the race sponsors and beneficiaries, then the horn sounded.  We were off!

Now for reason #2 for possibly changing my name, two words - chip seal.

Last year, I had run the 5k as my first barefoot race.  The course, as I remember it, was fairly smooth asphalt - and it was.  For the first two miles, anyway.  Almost as soon as we passed the 2-mile marker, the street changed from smooth asphalt to fairly rough chip-seal.  No worries, I thought, hoping that the course would not be all chip-seal.

As I made my way down the course, focusing intently on my form, one of the cycling-medics passed by and shouted, "You're running barefoot!  You are a stud!"

"Thanks," I said.  "But this chip-seal isn't the easiest to run on."

The next couple of miles were fairly uneventful.  I had my huarache sandals tucked in my belt just in case of rough asphalt.  However, as I said at the beginning - I'm stubborn.

As we came off the country road and onto a more major road, the asphalt became very smooth.  The course passed several choice-smelling dairy farms.  The roadway was spattered with - well, let's just hope it was dirt from various farm machinery.

I entertained several questions about barefoot running, the book "Born to Run" and whether or not the asphalt hurt my feet.  I was quite pleased with the current smoothness of the roadway after running for two miles on something that left something to be desired.

We made a turn about the 6-mile marker at the furthest corner of the roughly rectangular course.  This again was more rural road - a single lane road with even rougher chip-seal asphalt.  I took a deep breath and focused even more on my form.  Fortunately, I've been reading Barefoot KenBob's book "Barefoot Running Step by Step".  I had even begun to experiment with running on the gravel on the edges of roadways in my training.  In my mind I was saying, 'lift the foot' and trying to keep my cadence high.

Somewhere around mile 7, I decided that I was getting tired, so I began alternating running and walking.  This is about the same point that I fatigued five years earlier on this course (having been undertrained as well).  One lady (I think she was a teacher), in the brightest neon green shirt I have ever seen, and I began a series of short chats and turns racing ahead and falling behind.  She began calling me "Tough Toes Terry" to whomever was around at the time.

By mile 9, I was pretty fed up with the chip-seal.  The asphalt was rougher here than it was between miles 2 and 4.  I kept thinking about the huarache sandals flapping on my back.  The stubbornness in me kept saying - no, you're going to run this half marathon barefoot even if it causes blisters.  I did happen to check a couple of times and happily found that no blisters were forming.

By the time I reached mile 10 or 11, my thoughts turned to - hmm, what was my mom's goal time?  I was hoping it wasn't 2 1/2 hours.  I kept checking my pace and time on my Garmin.  I knew a PR had long since passed me, but I did have a shot at beating my course record.  However, the thought of my mom catching and/or passing me was something I couldn't bear.  (I do love my mom, but I'm also very competitive.)

After making the final turn at about mile 12, I focused on the task at hand.  I tried running the entire last mile, emphasis on tried.  I ran about a quarter mile, then walked some more.  Once I got within about a half mile, I buckled down and was determined to finish with a strong run.


I crossed the finish line at 2:20:01 - 2 minutes and 48 seconds faster than my shod run at the inaugural Avenue of the Vines in 2007. 

After finishing, I found my dad, who had taken 1st place in his age division (70-79).  We wandered around while waiting for my mom to come in.  The clouds were moving in and the wind was becoming unbearably cold (especially in running shorts and a microfiber shirt).  We finally spotted my mom as the rain started to fall.  She crossed the finish line at 3:10:10 sporting her VFFs.  Way to go MOM!

While it was not my best half, shod or barefoot, I did finish.  Undertrained and with a healthy helping of stubbornness mixed in, I completed my second barefoot half marathon after running 9 of the 13 miles on rough chip-seal.  I don't think the chip seal mattered as much to me as being undertrained.  The chip-seal was challenging, but with proper barefoot form it was manageable.  I ended the race with not so much as a blister on my foot.  However, they did feel tender for the next few days.  I don't know if I'd run this course again barefoot, but then again, I'm pretty stubborn.

International Barefoot Running Day - San Francisco Area

Team Barefoot Runners Society 2011

Danville, CA - May 1, 2011 – After a late night at a wedding, I was quite exhausted.  However, I could not get to sleep.  Pre-race excitement always gets me amped up the night before.  That night was no different, except the Workday Devil Mountain Run was going to be the race event for the San Francisco Area Chapter’s participation in the first annual International Barefoot Running Day. 

The Workday Devil Mountain Run is a fundraising event for Children’s Hospital Oakland in the San Francisco Bay Area.  Our chapter had formed Team Barefoot Runners Society for the race.   By race day, our team had grown to 11 members and had raised over $3200.  An amount only surpassed by one other team – the race sponsor’s team – Team Workday.  However, their team had over 113 runners at last count.

I rolled over and looked at the alarm clock – 4:30 a.m.  Fifteen more minutes until the alarm buzzed, I thought.  I’m not going to get any more sleep tonight.  I turned off the alarm and started getting ready.  I had an hour before I was meeting Rob, aka Running Romeo, to make the trek over the hill to the race.

I managed a breakfast of oatmeal and chia seeds, though I was not in the mood to eat anything.  I gathered my stuff and headed over to meet Rob.

Chatting with Rob made the hour drive go by fairly quickly.  Arriving at the race site, we headed over to the pre-arranged meeting spot to await the arrival of the other 9 members of Team Barefoot Runners Society.

One by one, we met Barefoot Pablo, Trinh, and DRL.  After some chatting, Rob and I had to go ditch our jackets and shoes at the car, so we wished everyone good luck and headed out.  We made it back to the start line just in time for a couple quick pictures and the countdown.  Rob and I were fairly far back in the pack - not my favorite place to be at the start of a race.

ME

Running Romeo

The crowd shuffled forward, continued shuffling through the start line, and began a slow jog a block or so past the start.  Within a couple blocks the course split 5K runners to the left and 10K runners to the right.  There was a volunteer with a bullhorn shouting “10K Right! 10K Right!”  I joked to Rob, “What’s that woman protesting?” 

Between miles one and two, we caught up with Trinh who was moving smoothly and steadily down the course in her invisible shoes.  We cheered her on for a moment then continued down the road.  The course was still pretty crowded at this point and we had to jockey for position in the mass of runners. 

The first two miles were a little rough for me as my feet were cold from standing on the asphalt for the past hour.  I felt a familiar knot in my left foot like I had stepped on a rock that wouldn’t let go.  Fortunately, that feeling faded as the race progressed.  Rob had taken to running on the centerline paint, dodging the big orange cones dividing the roadway.

We crossed over the freeway at about mile two and continued another mile to the turn that would take us to the bike path for the return route.  The few blocks to the path were on a well-worn street of chip seal asphalt.  Rob immediately took to the smooth sidewalk.  I tried to navigate the street -dodging potholes and badly worn asphalt before surrendering to the sidewalk myself.  Fortunately, the chip seal section was short-lived and we made it to the Iron Horse Trail. 

The trail was nice, well-paved asphalt.  In addition, there was a wide swath of over-grown grass along side the bike path that had a well-worn dirt path through it.  Rob and I quickly took advantage of the change in surface and began running on the dirt and grass.  I switched back to the path while Rob continued to relish in the dirt-trail.

As I made my way down the path, a shod-runner started heckling us. 

It started with “Hey, your shoes are untied.” 

I responded jokingly, “Not again! I hate when that happens.”

He followed quickly by, “That guy was in such a hurry this morning he forgot his shoes” and some comment about the recession. 

I tried a couple of times to humor him, but he just started getting annoying, so Rob and I just left him in our barefoot dust.

As we approached mile-4, Rob pointed ahead – another barefoot runner! 

I shouted to Rob as I came alongside, “Let’s see what this guy’s up to over here!”

As I approached, the runner turned and shouted “Hey!  Barefoot Runners!”

This gentleman turned out to be fellow BRS member Barefoot Pete.  Introductions were made and we continued together down the course.  We chatted about our barefoot experiences while fielding the usual questions from the shod-runners that we were passing.

Of all of Pete’s responses to the various runners, my favorite was when someone would ask, “Why do you run barefoot?”  Pete would often answer, “Why not?”

The last two miles went quickly.  As the finish line came into view, Pete burst out into a dead-sprint for the finish.  Rob and I quickly joined chase and came alongside.  The three of us entered the chute side by side.  The announcer noticed our blazing approach and started to do a play by play until he realized something that got his tongue all tied up – we were all barefoot!

His play by play sounded something like this:

“And here come 3 guys into the. . .  well, . . .  but. . . there’s 3 . . . umm. . . and. . . bu. . .”

We passed the announcer and as we crossed the finish mat he finally blurted out, “There’s 3 barefoot runners crossing the finish!!!”

That was my favorite moment of the day.  The three of us stride for stride crossing the finish with a dumbfounded announcer.

We followed the crowd down the path back toward the starting area.  As we entered the parking lot with all of the vendor tents, we bumped into C-Dog, and Matt sporting their Vibrams.  They had both just finished the 5K barefoot with C-Dog’s wife, Amber.

We met up again with Barefoot Pablo, DRL, and Trinh near the stage where they were announcing the awards.  We were trying to see if we could locate the final 2 members of our team, but were unsuccessful. 

As it turns out, Matt won a medal for his 3^rd place finish in his age-group for the 5K.  While we were waiting for Matt to return with his medal, we held the raffle for the two Barefoot Running: Step By Step books, courtesy of Barefoot KenBob and his publisher.  Matt scored again with a win of the book.  I scored the second book. 

(Yes, the drawing was random. I did not stuff the ballot box and I did not draw my own name.  There will be no re-count.)

Matt Mullen expressed what I believe most of us felt at the end of the day, “Devil Mountain race was a blast!”

The race being done, raffle held, and conversations had - Team BRS decided to call it quits for the day and we parted ways with a promise to see each other again soon.  The day had been the first significant meet-up for our chapter.

The ice had been broken.  We had discovered that we were not lone barefoot runners in a shod world.  There are others like us.  There are others who find fun and enjoyment in running barefoot.  Hopefully, for this group of runners, International Barefoot Running Day turns out to be a starting point of many future runs together on road and trail.

To my Team BRS members - I would like to say thank you for making the day a great success.  Five - barefoot runners, two – Vibram runners, one – invisible shoe runner, and the shod-runner wife of a BFR made for a great Team BRS! 

Special Note to Andrew and Becky:  I’m sorry we missed you at the race.  I hope you had a great race and some fun along the way.  I hope to meet you at a future BRS run!

From Left to Right:  Running Romeo, Barefoot Terry, Trinh, Dillon (DRL), Barefoot Pablo, Barefoot Pete, C-Dog, Matt

Barefoot Running Meets Mercedes-Benz

A man runs through a forested area.

“I am addicted to the road…any road,” says the runner.

The scene cuts to his feet.  Something is different about this runner.  He has no shoes! 

To us barefoot runners, this is nothing unusual.  We’re used to it.  This is what we do.  However, this is not a TV show about barefoot running, it’s a commercial for the Mercedes-Benz SLK.  What does a barefoot runner and the SLK have to do with each other?  I contacted the producer of the Mercedes-Benz commercial to discover the inspiration for this unusual commercial.

Gernot Schaffler is a producer with Sabotage Films.  In addition to film production, he is a triathlete.  About 15 years ago he moved to Los Angeles from Austria and began running barefoot on the beach as part of his training.  “Running in deep sand was the best way for me to strengthen my ankles and it enhanced stability in the lower body,” Schaffler states.  “It helped a lot with muscle tone in the feet – preventing injuries.”

Schaffler enjoys the triathlon combination of swim, bike and run.  He especially likes the longer races because “you always have to expect the unexpected.”

The idea for the commercial came to Schaffler while running on the beach at low tide.  He explained to the director what happens to one’s mind on a long run along the beach comparing it to a “long lasting yoga lesson.”  From there, they took the idea to the screen to give Mercedes the comparison to being in touch with the road.  The actor, Chris Whelan, is shown running across a variety of surfaces – streets in the city, leaves, and a meadow when he happens upon a Mercedes parked alongside the road.  Whelan is an actor, not a barefoot runner.  I was unable to get in contact with the actor before publishing this article. 

While I don’t drive a Mercedes, I know how a luxury car drives.  I suppose some parallels can be made to barefoot runner’s connection with the ground and that of a Mercedes.  Though I imagine most of us would argue that barefoot running is obviously more basic and primal than driving any car. 

I enjoyed the commercial.  Most people probably wouldn’t even notice or make the connection between the Mercedes and our way of running.  Does it mean barefoot running has gone mainstream?  I don’t think so.  However, the commercial was a cool way to put barefoot running in the public eye.

The commercial ends with a shot of Whelan’s feet, toes gripping the asphalt – “I am reborn.  I’m an addict to the road.”

Aren’t you?