Kick off Your Shoes and Run Awhile.

Herb Wills, July 17, 2010

For the joy of debate, I've been wanting to jump into the shouting match about barefoot and minimal footwear running. The trouble is that it's not clear what the argument is about. For starters, although I know what "barefoot" means the definition of "minimal footwear" is not so clear. Additionally, the proponents of barefoot running are a bit slippery as to what are the exact benefits of going unshod. Lower injury rates? Improved performance? Whiter teeth and fresher breath?

But I do have a "minimal footwear" story.

In May of 1979 Florida State hosted the Metro Conference track and field championships. I was an FSU freshman competing in the 10,000 meters, just short of 25 times around the track. Memphis was also in the Metro, and had recruited several British distance runners, whose notions of track were closer to roller derby than ours were. During the eighth lap of the 10,000 I was leading the race, closely followed by Memphis' Steve Anders. Near the end of the second turn, I wandered more than ten inches from the curb, and Anders thought he could pass me on the inside.

He couldn't. There was contact. Anders stumbled onto the infield. One of my shoes came off.

I had the bizarre notion that on the next lap or so I could grab the shoe and shove it back on, but it was already gone the next time around. Unevenly covered feet didn't feel right, so after a few laps I paused long enough to tear off the other shoe. The race had become a personal experiment in minimal footwear.

I can't recommend running on a track in socks. Your toes keep curling up, trying to get a grip on the surface. Also, running tracks are designed with a rough surface which gives athletes good traction but is very abrasive. For two miles the socks protected my feet fairly well. After that the track wore through the soles of the socks and spent the last mile of the race wearing through the soles of my feet. Someone described my feet as "bloody pulp" and another description included the word "shredded." They couldn't have been that bad, though, because I raced the 5,000 meters the next day.

I did win the 10,000 and ran 30:05.1, at the time my best for the distance. Before the minimal footwear advocates claim this as a victory, though, I have to mention that it was only my second 10,000 on the track. And the following month I ran 29:37.6, this time wearing shoes the entire way.

So I hesitate to use my experience for either side of the great footwear debate. I did learn that whatever you decide to wear (or not wear) on your feet, don't change in the middle of a race. Results will be less than optimal.