Barefoot running. Minimalist shoe design.
They're all the craze these days among everyday runners like you and I looking to squeeze faster times out of busier work days with less time to train. Running shoe companies almost seem to market these products like others market weight-loss pills: "Amazing Weight Loss! One Simple Pill!" Just imagine how much faster you could run if your feet weighed less?!
Admittedly, I am a fan of minimalist running. I'm not going to get caught getting into an argument with nature or God about His (or Her!) optimal design of the human foot for running. To me, the more true you are to your carnal running form, the better of a runner you will be--time-wise, injury-wise, and chi-wise. I started running in shoes made by Newton in 2003, and despite my efforts, haven't been able to find a better shoe for running.
But when should you buy your feet gloves or your expensive new (light) treads?
I have watched too many friends accrue too many injuries by trying to bite off more than they can chew, or not understanding how their body will react to lighter (or structurally revolutionary) footwear.
Think about it: you have been wearing running shoes--or shoes of some sort--since when? Your toddler stage? Terrible twos? Depending on how old you are, your body has adapted for decades to the feeling of getting around in sneaks.
When I run in shoes, it's easy to let my form slacken--too often I find myself slouching shoulders, hanging my head, and half-assing my stride carriage. Yet when I take my shoes off to do barefoot sprints or strides, it is much more difficult to let myself slack off--it hurts when you're not efficient!
You and I and our running society have gradually, over countless decades, been evolving farther and farther away from that efficient, natural, speedy gait of our forefathers. Take a look at what youngsters in countries like Kenya, Ethiopia, Morocco and elsewhere are wearing on their feet when they are young, and you don't have to go very far to figure out why they have eclipsed us so completely in global distance running.
So should you transition to minimalist, or barefoot, running? Absolutely. But understand that for you and I, the time required to transition and be able to run as far as we'd like will be measured in years, plural. So what does that mean?
Don't buy your kids running shoes.
That's pretty revolutionary, right? You don't just buy their sneakers for physical fitness but also to keep their feet protected from the nasty outside world. Where would you be if you couldn't be in line on Black Friday to stage a mad-dash for the last pair of new Nikes or Air Jordans for your tot?
I'm not talking about eschewing footwear completely, though--we'll leave that to Little House on the Prairie re-runs. I am talking about simple, cheap shoes with very little (if any) support and probably few popular, brand-name logos. If this seems like an offensive suggestion, then think about how you are furthering the problem distance runners face today.
If you could go back in time and keep in touch with your natural gait--and practice that over the course of your life--how much better would your running be? How many Olympic gold medals have we cost ourselves (and for whom? The American running shoe industry pulls in billions a year), how many injuries have we caused ourselves, how much more fulfilling would your fitness feel?
If you are putting your children in these ultra-supportive, cushioned, lights-flashing, gucci shoes, well...I hope you have good genes and a family history of a high VO2 max.
Save yourself some money. Start the new trend. Don't handicap your kids from the get-go because it is what society has come to expect. Allow them to grow up knowing what their natural running gait feels like, and then let them go--let them experience that kind of a life without the handicap of Nike, Adidas, Reebok and the like.
Will they win Olympic gold? Maybe. Will they beat a world record? Possibly. Will they keep in good physical shape? I hope so!
But with those big clunkers parents have been putting on kids' feet for the past 50 years? The answer to those questions is a resounding: No.
I can't guarantee the results. But I can dream about what will be. That is the hope of American distance running.