Coming Up: Soft Star Moc3 Review

The good folks at Soft Star Shoes have sent me a pair of their Moc3s to review. I’ve just received the package, and am going to put them through their paces.

Moc3 package

The reveal…

I’ve got to say that the first thing that impressed me was the packaging of the Moc3s. No plastic at all, just some paper around the shoes, inside a plain cardboard box. Seems that Soft Star is serious about their “light footprint”!

I don’t often review footgear. That’s because I very hardly ever run in anything but my bare feet. I’ve worn VFF KSOs (but not for quite a while), and Xero Shoes sandals (but only a couple of times a year). For me, nothing – but nothing – works as well as skin to ground.

But I’ve been looking with interest at SoftStar’s RunAmoc models for some time. That’s because these people seem to be creating footwear the right way ’round. Instead of “minimizing” (in other words, trimming down) the traditional cushioned, supportive running shoe so they can flog the result to the masses, SoftStar has chosen to build from the ground up, with very minimal soles and footbeds and light, soft uppers that simply drape around the foot. Obviously, that isn’t going to work for everyone. But it makes sense to me, so I’m going to give the Moc3s a try.

Soft Star Moc3

Soft Star Moc3

Here’s the plan…

I’m going to 1/ wear the Moc3s as daily footwear, at the office, for grocery shopping, etc.; 2/ see what they’re like on my treadmill; 3/ run on the indoor concrete track at my local Y with them; and 4/ take them on my usual training road routes, maybe even some trails. I’m going to look at fit, comfort, feel, and durability. I’ll take some photos, do some background research, and post the results in two reviews, one short-term and one with a longer view. (And I promise never to use the dreadful term “barefoot shoes” when I’m talking about the Moc3s.)

To whet your appetite for what’s coming up, have a look at this short video of Mike Friton, the designer of the Moc3, explaining the ideas behind the shoe’s design.

Moc on!

Race Report: Sarasota Half Marathon 2013

Working hard at the 7K mark

This was a good one. My finishing time of 1:54:58 was a new personal best (by about a minute), and I ran the course four minutes faster than I did last year. That finishing time put me 13th out of 46 runners in my age group (male, 60-64). If I’d been one age group up (65-69), my time would have made me 8th out of 31. I turn 65 in June. So there’s hope for me yet.

The race started, as it did last year, at 7 AM, about half an hour before dawn. That meant starting in darkness, which always feels a little odd to me. Not bad, not good, just odd. The great thing about it was that the sun came up as I was heading back across the John Ringling Bridge, at about the 6.5K mark. That was quite a sight. About half a kilometer later, I saw, hovering over the big pack of runners on the bridge, an octocopter with a camera mounted on it, exactly like this one.

Octocopter

Someone was having some serious – and very expensive – fun!

After the bridge, the route turned north, along Tamiami Way (Route 41), a nice stretch of barefoot-friendly road where I settled down to my target pace. North along that flat, straight stretch, then left towards the Ringling Museum of Art, then left again and into the Neighbourhood of Rough Asphalt. OK, that’s not entirely fair – it’s actually an upscale community, called Indian Beach/Sapphire Shores, of lovely 1940s and 1950s Gulf Coast-style homes.

Sapphire Shores

It’s very pretty (I wouldn’t mind living there), but the road surface isn’t comfortable on bare feet, especially ones that are trying to go quickly. The problem, you see, is that, back in the day, pavement here was made with crushed coral as part of the asphalt mix. It was probably inexpensive, and it seems to have lasted well, but it’s hell on the soles of the feet. It slowed me down, just as it did last year (but not quite as much, because I was expecting it this time).

After about 5K of that challenging nonsense, the route got back onto Tamiami Trail, and we were on our way to the finish. More spectators and more comments (“Omigod, he doesn’t have any shoes!”, “Badass!”, “Awesome, dude!”, “Yay Canada!” and the like). I tweaked my pace just a little bit in order to finish well and in style.

After crossing the finish line and accepting the humungous medal, I happily consumed a cup of yogurt, granola, and fruit, drank a bottle of water, and waited for my amigos Chris G. and Marcus C. to pull in. Here we are, in front of the beer truck after the race finish. They’re still wearing their medals. I’m wearing pink stains from chafed nipples.

Three amigos

Did I mention the nipple chafing? No? Well, I made a bad rookie mistake, and forgot to BodyGlide the nips. Didn’t notice it at all while running, but someone pointed out the telltale pink stains after the finish. Argh.

I also finished with a blister on each heel, and my feet were pretty tingly. Otherwise, I was in good nick. The weather was near perfect for this traveler from the frozen north: 10C at race start, 21C at the finish, sunny, 17 km/h wind, 56% humidity.

What worked well for this one? Well, my heart rate-based training program paid off big time. Because of it, I was able to manage my pace well, even through the gnarly bits. I adapted to the Florida heat quickly and well. My fueling protocol was spot on. (Whey protein isolate drink 2 hours before race start; two electrolyte tabs 1 hour before; 1 Hammer gel 5 minutes before; Hammer HEED throughout race; 1 Hammer gel at halfway mark; Hammer Recoverite immediately after the finish.) And my running kilt was absolutely the right choice. It was far more comfortable than any shorts I’ve ever worn, and will be my drug of choice for all future races.

I think I’m finally becoming a runner! Or, more correctly, I’m discovering a joy in racing that I hadn’t thought possible. And, if I keep to a similar pace and finishing time next year, I may even be able to break out of my long-standing “I’m just a mid-pack runner” habit. Turning 65 and moving up an age category might just do the trick. Older and quicker would be perfectly alright with me.

By the way, this is the only race I’ve ever run where I was paced by pelicans. This pic was taken by one of the official race photographers at about the 16K point of the race, right in the midst of the “Bad asphalt, go to your room!” section of the route. We don’t get pelicans back home in southern Ontario, so I was delighted to see them.

Pelicans along the race route

I want to do Sarasota again next year. Bad asphalt and all, it’s still a good course, and a great race. Maybe I’ll be even quicker. Old dog, new tricks, that sort of thing. :)

A Good One!

Sarasota Half 2013 medal

On Sunday, I ran my second Sarasota Half Marathon. It was a good one!

My finishing time was 1:54:58 (5:26 average pace for the distance), which means I set a new PB, and ran the course 4 minutes faster than I did last year. I placed 13th out of 46 in my age group (male 60-64). I’m very pleased with that result.

I’ll post a full race report as soon as I get some photos pulled together. Stay tuned!

Argh! The Cops!

Once again, I’ve run afoul of the law. Literally.

It happens three times or so each year. I’m out for a happy barefoot run, when, all of a sudden, a police car swoops to the side of the road beside me, lights flashing. A window is rolled down, and I hear the ominous words…

“Excuse me, sir.”

This morning (the first nice day we’ve had in a long time, I might add), I was enjoying a short, easy-paced barefoot run around my local ring road. About 2K from home, not one, but two, cop cars came to a rather sudden stop beside me. Flashing lights, cruisers angled against the curb so they were actually blocking traffic, and very quickly a cop standing on either side of me while I was questioned.

Yes, you’ve got the picture. A white-haired gent in running clothes (but no shoes!), and two young, well-muscled cops, complete with guns and flak jackets. Said older gent being questioned about why he’s running without shoes, where he lives, if he’s ever been injured. etc. Evidently, a “concerned citizen” had phoned in a report that he/she had seen “a man running without shoes,” and the cops had to come by to ensure the public’s safety.

One of the cops even called in an ID on his onboard laptop, I guess to make sure I wasn’t some sort of known criminal. While he did so, the other cop stood just off to my side, hand resting casually on his holstered gun. Maybe he was afraid I’d make a break for the nearest traffic light, or go berserk in the way that barefoot runners are known to. I’ll call the image to mind again – a 64 year-old, 144 lb. runner, barefoot, clad in tights, a long-sleeve running shirt, and a bandanna, in between two thirty-something, 180-or-so lb. cops in street armour, with weapons at the ready. Right, I’m so dangerous.

Other runners get waved at or chased by dogs – I get hassled by interfering busybodies and the state’s paramilitaries. This happens all too often – and I’m hugely, hugely pissed off by it. Just sayin’, that’s all.

Update on Asperger’s

A couple of years ago, I posted an article on Running and Asperger’s, in which I tried to describe what it’s like to have Asperger’s Syndrome and how running helps me deal with it.

Part of having Asperger’s for me is that I’m extremely sensitive to sensory input, specifically sound. Loud environments (and to me almost all environments are extremely loud) bring on confusion, disorientation, and can result in a general neurological “system crash.” Not only is that experience unpleasant in itself, the after-effects are lengthy and grim. The spillover from my last Asperger’s-related auditory-overload meltdown lasted a week. I wasn’t happy and I wasn’t nice to be with, to say the least.

I recently came across a computer simulation called Auti-Sim which gives so-called “normal” folks an idea of what such an experience feels like. It’s presented as a game, in which you, the subject, are in a playground full of other children. Moving towards any of those other children increases the level of auditory stimulation. Move closer and it gets worse. Get closer still – or stay in that over-stimulated space – and you break down.

I urge you to give Auti-Sim a try. If you know a child or adult who is anywhere on the autism spectrum (which includes Asperger’s), it’ll help you understand what that person goes through on a daily basis.

Warning! Auti-Sim is not fun. It’s not enjoyable. I’ve only watched it once, and will never do so again. But that’s partly because I can experience the real thing by going to a bar, a movie, or a concert. I can get a minor version of it simply by watching television, or even by going to the supermarket. To get some idea of what it’s like, check out this review of Auti-Sim, from game site Rock, Paper, Shotgun:

“Auti-Sim is a very short experience. But then, so is having a railroad spike driven into your ear. That’s the basic idea behind the horrifyingly overwhelming dose of auditory hypersensitivity disorder, which was put together as part of the Hacking Health Vancouver 2013 hackathon. The short version is, you’re an autistic child on a playground, and everything seems perfectly normal. Then more sounds start creeping in. Voices, whispers, screams, footsteps, swingsets creaking, merry-go-’rounds whirring. All distinct, yet inseparable, like the whole world is trying to stampede its way into your head, trampling your eyes and ears. Auti-Sim hurts. But it hurts for a reason.

Obviously, this isn’t a literal interpretation of what it’s like to have auditory hypersensitivity disorder. Rather, Auti-Sim draws on horror game tropes juxtaposed against a bright, idyllic playground environment, to rather brilliant effect. It’s more or less an approximation of what debilitating sensory overload would feel like, designed so that people who’ve never experienced it can come to grips with just how difficult seemingly mundane situations can be for autistic kids and adults.

For me, it started very slowly. I approached the playground, and then – little by little – my vision blurred and sounds bled together. Louder. Louder. LOUDER. I couldn’t take it. I had to escape. I stumbled and lunged for reprieve, eventually sighting a swingset way off in the distance, free from the faceless crowds. Only there was I able to get my bearings. It was quiet. It was nice. So I just sort of hunkered down. Alone.”

I’m not looking for sympathy here. I’ve learned to deal with auditory overload, and most of the time do quite well. It’s just that it’s very hard to describe what it feels like. Auti-Sim isn’t the real thing (the real thing is much, much worse), but, if it helps one “neurotypical” person understand what life is like for those of us who have to endure this, then this post will have done its job.

Your comments would be greatly appreciated.

Palm Trees, Sunshine, and Bare Feet

Sarasota

Exactly 14 days from today, I’ll fly from my home near Toronto, Ontario to Sarasota, Florida. Two days after that, I’ll run the Sarasota Half Marathon. It’ll be palm trees, sunshine, and bare feet for me. And not too soon, either. It’s been a rough winter.

It’ll be a shorter visit this year than last, when I ran Sarasota for the first time. Just the common story of too many responsibilities and too little time, I’m afraid. I’ll fly down on Friday, enjoy the warmth, the company of friends, and (hopefully) the beach on Saturday, race on Sunday morning, then fly home again late Sunday afternoon. I won’t exactly spend more time flying to and from Sarasota than being there – but I expect it’s going to feel that way.

Seems a bit of a rush, you might be saying. Why all the bother, you ask. Well, I’m going to tell you.

There are the obvious reasons, of course. First of all, on March 17, when the race happens, it’ll be cold here and warm there. Second, I’ll get to run with my friends Chris G. and Marcus C. Third, it’s a nice event at my favourite race distance. On the other hand, I’ll have to endure the minor discomforts of flying, something I’m not keen on. I’m not particularly keen on hotels, either. And I’ll be away from home, which is never a preference.

So why do it at all?

You know, sometimes I wonder that myself. And wondering about it brought the realization that there’s one reason why I’ll make the effort. Let’s call it the “Long Journey” concept. If I wanted to be fancier, I’d throw out words like microcycle, mesocycle, and macrocycle – in other words, periodization. Good words all, because, deconstructed, they tell the tale, and tell it very well indeed.

Cycles

The microcycle in the above graphic corresponds to my winter training. I started that on November 26, and will finish the day before the race, with a short, easy shakedown run. The mesocycle is made up of my spring races (Sarasota, Harry’s Spring Run Off 8K, and the Mississauga Half). The macrocycle is my whole 2013 training and race calendar. After the Mississauga Half (May 6), I’ll do some unstructured running until August 5, when I’ll begin training for my fall races (the Milton Half and the Scotiabank Toronto Marathon). The transitions between the parts of the long cycle are short periods when I rest a bit (sometimes only a day or so) and change gears. They’re sometimes smooth and sometimes tricky. Usually, I just have to let them happen.

So, you see, I’m going to Sarasota for the rhythm! To finish the short cycle, start the mid-cycle, and move into the long cycle. I’ll move through time and space and meaning. I’ll simply be continuing my barefoot journey. It’s all good.

Ah yes, and we mustn’t forget the palm trees. I’m partly going for the palm trees. Technically, they’re known as Arecaceae, a botanical family of perennial lianas and trees. They’re flowering plants, the only family in the monocot order Arecales. Roughly 202 genera with around 2600 species are currently known, most of them restricted to tropical, subtropical, and warm temperate climates. (Thank you, Wikipedia.) They’re one of my favourite things in the whole world. I think, when I get to Sarasota, I’m going to hug a palm tree.

Palm trees

Book Review: The Runner’s Guide to the Meaning of Life

The Runner's Guide to the Meaning of Life

The Runner’s Guide to the Meaning of Life, by Amby Burfoot is a gem of a book.

It’s not about training programs, and it won’t light a fire under your finishing times. It’s a gentle book, written by someone who seems to be a true gentleman (and gentle man). The book’s subtitle says it best: “What 35 years of running has taught me about winning, losing, happiness, humility, and the human heart.”

It’s also a very strong book, one that will (I promise!) inspire you, uplift you, and almost certainly make you a better runner. This is the kind of book you keep at your bedside, or at the kitchen table, so you can dip into again and again. It’s full of simple – but deep – wisdom, gained from decades of running and racing.

Amby Burfoot winning the Boston Marathon

Amby Burfoot winning the Boston Marathon

Burfoot famously won the Boston Marathon in 1968 (and still runs it every five years). In December of 1968, he won the prestigious Fukuoka Marathon in Japan in a personal best time of 2:14:28.8, which was only one second from the American marathon record at the time. As of 2008, he’d run the Manchester Road Race 46 times in a row, winning it outright nine times. (The Manchester Road Race is now 77 years old, by the way.) Burfoot was the editor-in-chief at Runner’s World for many years, and currently writes for the magazine and serves as its editor-at-large.

That’s a lot of runner cred for a guy who’s 67 years old this year. It’s what gives the stuff in the book its weight. The man knows what he’s talking about. And he says it very well indeed.

Let me give you an example. In a chapter titled “How to create a life of perpetual new beginnings,” he writes: “Starting lines are among the most important stations in life. We need to more than just avoid them. We need to actively seek them out. Otherwise, we grow stagnant… When you see the first hazy edges of a starting line begin to form in your life, don’t avoid it. Don’t look the other way. Try to bring the starting line into sharper focus. Consider its potential. Remember that if you don’t go to the starting line, you will never view the whole course with all its possibilities.”

The Runner’s Guide to the Meaning of Life is like that. It’s got chapter headings like “Connections,” “Traditions,” “Listening,” and “Simplicity,” and “Courage.” This essays aren’t faddish, empty media fodder, but serious reflections on what it means to be a runner, reflections that have been earned via a life of running, racing, and thinking about it all.

I often say to people that older is better. It’s even more true, I think, that older runners are better… well, better all ’round. Amby Burfoot is without a doubt one of the best examples of that belief. A Runner’s Guide to the Meaning of Life reflects that goodness.

Amby Burfoot now

Amby Burfoot now

How You Land Matters

As regular readers of this blog know, I train and race barefoot. When I race, I’m always surprised at how noisy the runners around me are. Not because they talk a lot (some of them do), or because they yell (some of them do that too), but because they thump. Yes, shod runners, you sound like a great thundering herd. It would be really annoying if it weren’t so comical – and sad.

Why do shod runners run noisily? Because the vast majority of them heel strike, that’s why. Barefoot runners don’t. It’s almost impossible to heel strike when you run barefoot, for the simple reason that it hurts too much. Barefoot runners have either a mid-foot or a fore-foot landing. It’s a stronger, more efficient, and more natural way to run. Sadly, running in shoes is almost certain to keep you from running naturally and quietly.

Before I go any further, I’d like to urge you to change the way you talk about running style. Instead of saying “foot strike,” say “foot landing.” In doing so, I follow barefoot legend Ken Bob Saxton’s dictum that one should never strike the ground, but always land gently on it. I also recognize that language has power beyond its mere sound. If you say “strike,” you will strike. If you say “land,” you’re well on your way to changing the way you run to something better.

Here’s an excellent graphic that shows some of the good and bad about “land” versus “strike,” and about “heel strike” versus “”mid-foot and fore-foot landing.” (When you read it, don’t forget to substitute “land” for strike.” You’ll be a better person for it.) The graphic comes to us courtesy of the good foks at Altra Zero Drop shoes. More about them later in the post.

Foot Landing

The whole story about foot landing needs some science if it’s to be understood properly. Some of the best work available comes from Prof. Daniel Lieberman, who heads the Harvard Skeletal Biology Lab. I invite you to check out this video for some good images of barefoot running foot landing, as well as how Lieberman’s research shows that barefoot runners, who tend to land on their fore-foot, generate less impact shock than runners in sports shoes who land heel first.

There’s more good stuff – the hard science data kind of good stuff – here, on an excellent page from the Skeletal Biology Lab site. On it, you’ll find some great videos and comparison data on the difference between heel striking and forefoot striking. (Remember what I said about substituting “land” for “strike”!) Long story short, the page illustrates how and why a large collision is generated when heel striking and why such a small collision is generated when forefoot striking. The page is really “feature rich,” as they say in the software world, but it’s well worth spending some time on. If you do, your understanding of running will benefit immensely.

Back to the folks at Altra Zero Drop. I’ve mentioned them because they seem to be one of the few shoe manufacturers who base their product design and development on the kind of information Prof. Lieberman offers, rather than paring down a traditional shoe model in order to sell to the growing minimalist market. They’re not the only one, of course – Vibram Five Fingers, Luna Sandals, and Xero Shoes minimalist sandals do the same. But the Altra Adam looks like a running-specific, zero drop, midfoot landing shoe that’s been designed from the ground up, rather than by a marketing team. Might be worth a look, if you’re thinking of a shoe that will allow the good form that comes with a midfoot or forefoot landing.

Full disclosure: I have an affiliate relationship with Xero Shoes, which means I get a small commission from them if you buy one of their sandals via a link on this blog. I own a pair Xero Connects and a pair Xero Contacts, which I previously reviewed here and here. I also own two pairs of VFF KSOs, but I haven’t worn either of them for about four years. And I’m working at getting a pair of Altra Adams for review. Stay tuned!

Update: Heart Rate-Based Training

Heart rate

Yesterday’s 90 minute barefoot treadmill run marked the end of week 12 of my 16 week training program for the Sarasota Half Marathon, which takes place on March 17.. The training’s gone well, so I’d like to offer an update. First, though, a little backstory of why I’m following a heart rate-based program.

The logic, as outlined in Benson and Connolly’s book Heart Rate Training, which I’ve mentioned previously, is, once you think about it, blindingly simple. HR training is the most user-specific training available to the ordinary (and elite, for that matter) athlete. It relies on your cardio-vascular system, which means that it reflects your overall state of stress 24 hours a day, 365 days a year. More to the point for training purposes, it offers immediate and consistent feedback about your stress level, intensity level, and your rate of adaptation to the training process. That means that, rather than relying on a pre-determined set of data for my training, it’s all been done on the basis on ongoing, daily, and very personal data. It’s all about me, and nobody else.

Before I started the program, I did a treadmill-based test to determine my maximum heart rate, which turned out to be 163 bpm. Every morning of the program I’ve determined my resting heart rate, which is between 43 and 46 bpm, depending on the day. (To do the latter, I use a nifty little program on my Android smartphone called Instant Heart Rate.) I track all of my workout, and the associated data re resting heart rate, weight, blood pressure, and length and quality of sleep with SportTracks. That gives me a comprehensive and easily-accessed reference library of how the training’s going. Of course, my trusty Garmin 210 is the backbone of the whole system, as it’s what shows me what my heart rate is.

Buikding endurance – and speed – following a heart rate-based program takes time. Not just weeks, but sometimes months. I’m fortunate in that I’ve built a strong aerobic base over the past year. I’ve also worked on speed in my previous training programs for various races and distances. But this HR-based program has made an enormous difference. It’s different from the others.

Here’s one graphic example of how that difference manifests itself. It’s not my data, but an image I downloaded via a Google search, and include here because illustrates very nicely a couple of points I want to make.

HR versus speed

The top graph shows the runner’s heart rate for a certain distance, in which she kept to a pre-determined heart rate. The lower graph shows the same distance and time, but with the runner following a pre-determined pace. Going for pace resulted in peaks and valleys of heart rate, which resulted, as one would expect, in feelings of fatigue. That inevitably affected her endurance, and would, in the longer run, mean less endurance and a lower running economy. Running to heart rate, on the other hand, mean that she adjusted her pace to keep at the pre-determined heart rate, and so conserved her energy levels, her power, and her strength.

Endurance isn’t everything, of course. That’s why, as part of my training program, I’ve included interval and tempo runs as well as the endurance-focused sessions. Such an ongoing heart rate-based program increases the size of the body’s capillaries and develops mitochondria, so that strength, endurance, and speed are all enhanced.

It’s all been good.

What’s the bottom line? Following this heart rate-based training program has 1/ built up my endurance, 2/ lessened my fatigue levels, and 3/ made me quicker. As an instance of the latter, consider the following: my current PB for the 16K distance (1:35:18, a pace of 5:57) was set in June 2008, at the Toronto 10 Miler. Yesterday, I ran 15.8K in 1:30, for a pace of 5:41. Yesterday, I was cruising, not racing. I wasn’t pushing hard, and I had plenty in the tank at the end of the run. Is it any wonder I’ve become a fan of heart rate-based training?

Barefoot Running Magazine

The current issue of Barefoot Running Magazine is now available online!

That’s always good news, as the mag, produced by Anna Toombs and David Robinson of Barefoot Running UK, is one of the best resources available for barefoot and minnimalist runners. This one is even better than ever. Checking in at 102 pages (in full colour), it offers a host of articles about BF running, nutrition, strength-building exercises, and health, as well as photos of barefoot runners around the world, letters from readers, and a bit of history. I can’t emphasize how fantastic a resource this is, and how grateful I am to Anna and David for making available – at no cost to you or me.

So click on the link at the top of the post, settle down for a good browse, and make yourself a better barefoot runner!