Barefoot Running in a Skirt

Seize the day!  I wake up every morning and mean to workout. But not everyday do I really mean it. Today was one of those days until.... LOW TIDE! My favorite surface to train on is flat wet sand. It's a dream! For me it seems to be the most supportive surface while I'm transitioning to a barefoot style of running.

Today I decided to go with the wind and heed the siren call of  the low tide sea. No worries about not having my double layer socks and running shoes with me. No worries about getting sand in my shoes while walking to the packed sand. Just me and my toes. I was bummed I didn't have my Paleo Shoes with me but the joy of training in a barefoot running style is that your options are wide open.

Today I made do without my Paleo Shoes because I wasn't too worried about protecting the bottom of my feet. As long as I didn't step on the stingray who made a poor life decision today (see picture above), I would most likely be ok. Let's take a moment to pause and reflect on the lesson  he/she taught us about misjudging the direction of the tides in our lives....hummm.... Ok! It's time to move on! It still amazes me how much more I enjoy running / jogging / walking with free toes. I really, really, REALLY hate hot sweaty feet.

With the freedom of my toes, is the freedom from my dependence on workout clothes. Don't get me wrong, ideally I'd like to have them. But if I'm wearing a skirt it doesn't mean I can't run. I'm 100% inspired by the Rarámuri in Mexico. The women run in their sandals and skirts. They don't need coolmax shirts or lululemon pants to run. It doesn't stop them.  It doesn't need to stop me either.

Most Improved

I’m not what you would call a “dedicated athlete”.  I’m more like a “dedicated napper.”

My running journey is a stop and go adventure. I’ve never been  a leader of the pack kind of runner. And I’m not a middle of the pack kind of runner either. I’m somewhere in the back kind of walker / sometimes jogger. Which means at races the gummy energy blocks are always gone by the time I get there. I was also the kid who got “most improved”. From “oh dear god help that poor girl!” to just “oh dear”.

Western States 100 Course - Early 80s
Dad finished running it under 24 hours in this picture 

I grew up around runners. Not just marathoners - but ultramarathons. My dad was an ultrarunner about  30 years before it was more commonly known.  I remember crewing (really my mom did the crewing aka “Mom the Crewing Saint”) and we waited for him at different aid stations along the Western States 100 Miles course.  Dad ran 100 miles in the High Sierras once under 24 hours and once under 30 hours. Because my dad "ultrabob" rocks.  I also remember countless marathons sitting on curbs with my sister waiting for dad to finish while watching a sea of legs running by on their 26 mile journey.  So my perspective on running distances is a bit skewed.  Yet, running a mile and half eluded me.

In Junior High I was the last girl in my grade level at the district Cross-Country meets -  once in 7^th grade and once in 8^th. There were about five of us from the district whose ONLY running goal was not be the last. I remember sizing up the competition and picking out the girl who looked the slowest. I focused on trying to beat her. And I was really pissed when she passed me.

At the the finish line my coaching would be yelling, “Szekeresh! Come on Szekeresh!"  I think he was trying to motivate me. However drawing attention to being the last one was not my idea of motivation. I had some words for him too but I was too breathless to say them.

Honestly it was miraculous I actually made it to the finish line. The course went right past my house and I was tempted every time to run home. And stay there.  

I only ran cross country because you had to try out for all sports to get your letter.  Everyone automatically made Cross-Country and Track. At the age of 12 I assessed my sports skills and I knew (1) I really didn't like sports and (2) I was really bad at them.  I decided Junior High was going to be the pinnacle of my sports and running career.

Also I wasn’t a big fan of sweating in general.  I for sure was not a big fan of the searing pain in my lungs trying to suck down air the first ¼ of the lap. Of course maybe if I had actually completed all the practices and didn’t hide behind the handball courts and wherever else I could – I might have done better.

The end of eighth grade was the end of my running journey, until I was 19.