My transition towards "minimalist" / barefoot running (part 1 of 3): the injury - and the hope.

After about a month of regularly engaging in my new passion, running, I was plagued with a crippling injury. While on my usual afternoon run, I experienced a sharp shooting pain on the outside of my right knee. The pain seemed to come out of nowhere - one stride I was fine, and then the next stride - bam! - pain. The pain was so great that my right knee buckled, not being able to bear my weight. I hobbled to the curve, embracing my injured knee with both hands, and I headed back home (2 miles away) in a walk limp of shame.

Suffice it to say, I didn't run the next day. Nor the day after that. On the third day, I was able to walk without any knee pain, and so I tried giving a "gentle jog" a try. However, I had to abort that effort within the first minute, as the pain returned! (An upside to this ordeal was that my shameful trek back home was now only around 2 hundred yards.)

After some googling, I discovered that I suffered from what's known as Iliotibial Band (ITB for short) Syndrome. I looked up the commonly recommended remedies that I can find on the web, e.g. stretching, foam rollers, knee wraps. For several weeks I cross-trained by doing repeats of power walking up steep hills, hoping that, eventually, my knee would heal enough to allow me to do what I really wanted: to run.

During this time I also learned that my ITB syndrome might be due to my poor running form, in particular, running with a "heel strike" landing with each stride. What is more, it became increasingly obvious to me that the running shoe that I was using - with its typical raised, cushiony heel - might be contributing to my heel striking gait. A diatribe against the standard running shoe was a theme in the book that sparked my passion for running, Born to Run, but it seemed relatively minor to me - being overshadowed by a much more important theme of the book, i.e. recapturing the joy of running as a natural way to move - until I saw a connection between my own injury and the type of shoes I was wearing.

Within a week of my research into these issues, I got rid of my old pair of shoes. (Some lucky homeless guy in downtown State Street became its new proud owner!) As many websites I've read suggested, I decided to transition to a more "minimalist" style shoe. (I was not ready to ditch running shoes just yet!) I believed that with a pair of shoes that had a lower heel-to-toe rise, and no motion control / stability features, for example, I could correct my running gait and, ultimately, to run free of injuries. Hopeful thoughts began to fill my mind: "I will give this another shot. I can rebuild. I can, and will, run again. I just need the right shoes!"

How I (re)discovered running.

In this first blog entry, I'll give a brief account of my running biography.

Like many runners, I ran X-country in high school. I was never very good at it, but I was a decent "middle of the pack" runner. My 5k PR - set during my sophomore year, and which still stands to this day - is 18:29. Even though I was pretty decent at it,  I didn't love running back then as I do now. During off season, I hardly ran more than once or twice a week. And whatever interest I had with running was effectively squashed by a smoking habit I picked up soon after I entered college (bad company can corrupt "good morals").

Fast forward to age 40 (to 2010): I'm still smoking on average 1/2 a pack a day (favorite brand: American Spirits, the "healthy" cigarette), and, of course, I'm still not running. Like the typical 40-ish guy, I've put on a fair amount of weight (an extra 40 pounds worth) and hate what I see in the mirror. I'm now married and have a 2 year old daughter who is my pride and joy - and who gets me awfully winded and out of breath every time we play tag or whatnot. It dawns on me one day: "I need to get my tired, fat butt into shape - for my little girl, if not for myself." 

Soon after I made that resolution, I remembered back to my high school days when I was easily able to run long distances. So, I decided that I should take up running to lose some of the excess weight. I did two things in light of that goal: first, I got myself a brand new pair of running shoes (Saucony Progrid Guide 4); second, seeking instruction or inspiration, I browsed for running books at a local Borders (remember those?). One book, in particular, was in prominent display: Born to Run: A Hidden Tribe, Superathletes, and the Greatest Race the World Has Never Seen by Christopher McDougall.

I was on a limited budget and it was (for me) a fairly expensive hardback book - so, I passed over it. As I browsed, another "best seller" caught my eye: Ultramarathon Man: Confessions of an All-Night Runner by Dean Karnazes. This was in paper back, and much more affordable. Maybe it was the key word in the main title - "Ultramarathon" ("What the heck is an ultramarathon?"). Or maybe it was the subtitle ("How can anyone run all night?). Or maybe it was the badass pic of Dean on the cover (yeah, you know the one). In any case, I picked it up, and devoured it during the next two days. 

It's an understatement to say that I was amazed by Dean. He seemed to me like a genetic freak of some kind. His accomplishments made my jaw drop and left me very impressed - but they didn't inspire me to love running like he obviously does. (However, Dean's book did inspire me to get off the couch and to start running, however slowly, and to the best of my ability. For getting the ball rolling, I'm forever in his debt.)

Couple of weeks later, I'm back at Borders - this time to pick up Born to Run. Since my last visit, I saw Christopher McDougall talk about his book on Jon Stewart's show, and that (along with some book reviews on YouTube) was enough to pique my interest in the book. 

When I read Born to Run, it's as if scales fell off my eyes. It gave me a whole new perspective on this activity called "running" - it induced in me a Kuhnian paradigm shift about the subject. Like Karnazes' had done, McDougall's book amazed me. But it also inspired me. It showed me that the Tarahumara Indians - a group of people featured prominently in the book who are known for their amazing distance running ability - are, in a way, a microcosm of what we - i.e. the human race - are all capable of. It showed me that we are all "born to run" - including me. In short, reading Born to Run instilled a real love of running in me, and showed me that its truest expression consists in simplifying it to its bare essentials; it showed me that running should be done naturally - unencumbered by obsession with PRs, equipment (including high tech shoes), and race schedules. Thanks to McDougall's book, I am, in a very real sense, a born again runner. (The short description in this paragraph can't do justice to that great book. I hope to have a more thorough review and discussion of Born to Run in a future blog entry.)