I've finally done it. For all this recent talk of 'barefoot' running, you will have noted - and several have - that I'm not actually barefoot. I wear shoes. What a con. Well it's not really a con, as I hope I have explained before. But true enthusiasts do lose the shoes at any opportunity.
Having put in a a good 2 and a bit miles at 6:40 pace - felt great to be stretching out a bit - I was finishing around the field as I usually do. As the sun shone down on the thick green carpet of grass beneath my feet I felt the urge. Take off your shoes. Be really free.
So I paused on the bench, paused my Garmin too (important) and removed my shoes. The great thing about these shoes is that they weigh next to nothing. So rather than have to stash them somewhere I could just roll them up and carry them. And I proceeded to run a lap with bare feet. Naked as a the day I was born - from the knee down at least.
How did it feel? Much like it had in the shoes, but wetter. The ground didn't look wet but with rubber barrier removed I became aware of a faint seep with each step. I could feel one or two twigs as I ran, slightly conscious of needing to be a little more ginger. But I didn't care. I was bare. I got completely carried away and ran that last lap at 5:30 pace. And I loved every minute of it. I was a barefoot wonder.
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