Shalom, Aloha, Start your Engines for Plan B.

Last weekend, after spending six days without running once, I found myself responsible for leading a group of about 50 elementary school kids in a 3K community run. Of course, I had no intention of running, but a couple of the grade threes took off at a four minute pace and I had to keep up. This run was on city streets, that although controlloed by police, there was still traffic moving...so off I went. Running faster than I have for months. 

Later that day and throughout the evening the pain in my right heel that I had managed to mollify somewhat, returned with a vengeance. It was at that point that I started thinking about surrendering to the pain. 

Up until this point, and on the advice of the crackerjacks, I was still running. My mileage was way down, but I was still going out and logging a few kilometers. The new, intense pain made me think differently. If you have ever had a bladder infection, or an anal fissure or a bad case of asthma or strep throat, you will understand how I felt. Something as basic and fundamental and natural as peeing or shitting or breathing or swallowing suddenly becomes so painful, that you don't want to do it. You do everything you can to avoid it.  That's what walking had become. 

Running wasn't a problem. I run on my forefoot. It was the stopping, the starting and everything before and after any run. Running has become so natural to me. But I was afraid of doing it. 

An appointment with the physiotherapist the next day confirmed that I should not race my upcoming half ironman-distance race in early July, nor the Olympic (Standard) distance race the week later. And perhaps the Marathon planned for September was iffy. 

Instead, I should focus on running for one minute, barefoot on the treadmill, or grass or sand. And build up SLOWLY from there. Also, to correct the slight issues with my form, I was given a bunch of other exercises, including toe/leg raises on stairs and lunges and modified squats. I toyed with the idea of running barefoot and naked on the treadmill, but, like naked beach volleyball, certain laws of physics do not agree well with a lack of bodily compression...nuff said.

The idea of running barefoot is to allow the fascia in the foot/heel to gradually become re-accustomed to the stress I'm putting on them. Although my PT is not a forefoot running proponent, per se, looking at the wear pattern of my runners, she questioned why I even wear stability shoes...maybe neutral shoes or even something more minimal would be appropriate?

I haven't quite bought into that, but she helped me formalize me decision. I was preparing to be DFL, but now I was to be DNS. Contrary to a good friend's advice, I wasn't willing to just do a bit of the race and DNF. I  considered his advice, but I just couldn't justify the expense of traveling to a race (and spending over $600) for a race that I knew I would not be finishing. For some who have never completed a race, I can see the courage and the merit of that. I've had a personal best in this race, I've done an Ironman, or three. There would be no honor or pride. Although I will miss the exceptional organization and goodwill of this particular race.

So it is not an overstatement to say that once I made this decision I became somewhat melancholic. I have never DNS'd before. And my whole season was evaporating right in front of me. And no, I was not really heading the conclusion of my previous blog. 

But as the week progressed, I was forced to get to work by bike (my vehicle exhausted it's last cough). I also decided to swim a little and I swam a lot. I also just grabbed my bike and rode after dinner, something I don't do normally. 

Then I got to thinking about this checkered flag I was waving. Sure it heralds the end of the race. But was it really a white flag  (with black squares) or a black flag with white squares? A white flag means surrender, but a black flag is a symbol of anarchy! What I have been going through lately has been quite anarchistic.

I have to return to the beginning. This is a great chance to look at the fundamentals. To get stronger and maybe, hopefully,  to rise above these setbacks and comeback better, faster and wiser than before. 

In Hebrew, Shalom  means peace, completeness, and welfare. It can also mean goodbye and hello! Similarly, Aloha, in the Hawaiian language can mean love, peace, compassion, mercy, as well as goodbye and hello.

Aloha can also mean the breath of life.

Ultimately, the goal of any triathlete might be to say Aloha to Kona at the world championship. I might still make it there one day. 

For the time being though, I'm starting my engine and getting back on the right foot - if I can - and more closely heeding the recent advice of Chuckie V. and looking closely at Plan B.

Aloha...and Shalom.

Put your ear down close to your sole and listen hard.

I've had a bit of a shoe fetish lately.

Let me explain. I'm at a bit of a crossroad. My beloved NB 768s were "upstyled" with the 769s that just don't fit my wide feet - unless I go to a size that would make Bozo proud. 

Getting the right shoes has been a bit of an evolution for me. The first "running" shoes that were recommended to me and that I bought when I first started running for distance five years ago were a scary pair of motion control Frankenstein Boots that I wore for maybe two months before realizing that, just because I was "big boned", didn't mean my feet should be nailed to the ground. 

Since that time, I've stuck with one brand and traded off their relative heaviness and homeliness for the wide comfort and reliability they provided. 

It was a couple of months before Ironman Canada last year that I learned of the style and last change in the 768s. I scrambled and found a pair before they were all gone.  

I knew that I would have to start looking for new shoes eventually. This was also, ironically, about that time that I started to develop very tight calves and plantar fasciitis-like symptoms. And to think I've always respected Mr. Peanut. In hindsight, (and from looking at my big butt in the mirror) I think the leg/foot problems originated from a carrying a little too much extra weight.

At the advice of some and the horror of others,  I picked up a pair of Newton guidance trainers at the tradeshow at Ironman Canada in Penticton. Unlike many Newton noobs that I was amazed to look at, broken down at the side of the run course clutching their calves or nursing blisters, I did not wear my new shoes for the race. Nor did I  touch them until IMC was long done and over. 

If you are looking for a review, you won't find it here. Nor will you find a lengthy discussion of the merits of forefoot, midfoot or barefoot running. Although I have wasted many hours reading others' blogs, reports, articles and diatribes on the subject. I think I even had a few naughty dreams that involved thigh-high vibrams, but I digress.

I did start wearing the Newtons - but only indoors - treadmill and track. In the wintry outdoors I'm still wearing my last pair of  the 768s, as I still have a few hundred kms left in them. 

During all this experimentation, I have changed how I run. I wasn't a heel striker before, but I've moved even more of my efforts further to the front on my foot - probably the reason I'm still getting tight calves. 

One of most interesting experiments was running barefoot on the treadmill where I found that I was naturally favouring the front part of my foot - as I had been intellectually favouring with the fancy shoe technology. 

One word of advice to others who want to try this: The blisters start forming after 20 minutes of constant running. 

Everyone should try barefoot running, by the way. It is like running like a kid again. Golf course, beach, treadmill or track...anywhere you won't find glass, nails, snow, ice or lit cigarette butts is good.                                                    But I can't remain a podianudist. I have to start thinking about shoes. I have my first half marathon of the season in April and will be attempting my first ever marathon in late May - yes I ran the marathon in several IMs but that doesn't count does it?

I'll have to wait until the snow melts before I can get some serious distance on my Newtons before I make a decision on them. But I'll have to look at some other options. I hear that there might be a few other shoe companies out there that make shoes for wide feet. Maybe Newtons will be what I go with it is too early to tell.

In the process, my calves need to relax a little and Mr. Plantars Peanut has to get the hell out of my right foot and ankle. 

The snow melt is coming soon and the running mileage is beginning to ramp up. I'm looking deep into my soul, as Anne Sexton advised, and trying to listen to what my feet are telling me. Will this year be year that I evolve into more than just a triathlete who runs...