The Agony of da Feet

The weather is perfect for running -- low 50's, dry and no wind.  To warm up, Sean, Hanning and I run the short distance in Riverside Park from the Eagle to the Big Indian and back.   As I slow to a walk, my watch reads 6:45 a.m.  In half an hour I will be running the Maple Leaf  Five Mile race for the second time.  My primary goal, as always, is to finish without embarrassing myself.  My secondary goal is to run it faster than 47 minutes and 56 seconds.  That is my time from last year's race.  I tell myself that the last few months of practice will allow me to meet both goals, but self doubts won't let me relax.


My blogs occasionally endeavor to chronicle my attempts at running -- nothing major, just a 5K and most recently a 5 mile race during La Crosse's Oktoberfest.  At my age, now 52, my body doesn't always respond to what my experienced mind tells it to do.   My wife would probably tell you I don't respond to her comments either, but that's another story.

 

In basketball, I've suffered enough sprained ankles, broken noses and dislocated fingers to know better.  But I still drive the lane hoping to finger roll the ball into the basket, still box out a bigger player attempting to rebound a loose ball, or still set a rib-bruising pick to give a teammate an open shot.  Despite the pain, I still go back with the dream of making the winning shot and bragging rights for another day.

In running, I'm still learning the sport and its effect on my body.  To date, and through three races this year, I know this much:   it all starts with my feet.

Without good feet and proper footwear you won't enjoy running enough to stick with it.  I find it disconcerting that each foot has 26 bones, 33 joints, 107 ligaments, 19 muscles and 19 tendons.  Of the 26 bones, seven are in the ankle.  That has the potential for a lot of things to go bad when you think about it.


I decide that for this race I would listen to music.  Something that rocked -- like "Everybody Wants Some" by Van Halen, "Like a Stone" by Audioslave or "Banshee" by the Young Dubliners.  I have put together my Maple Leaf playlist and am determined to run harder than last year, using the tunes on my Ipod to keep my feet and body moving.

As the race begins, I give Sean and Hanning (his college roommate from China) high fives, and take off.  Having warmed up before, my legs feel better, my ankles loose and my feet light as I round the first turn and head up toward the causeway.  The runners are packed together, so I decide to sprint around a number of slower runners by staying to the right where I can see an clear path.

The route being taken is the same one that is used by the Maple Leaf Parade, arriving some 4 hours later.  Chairs, tarps and sleepy bodies occupy much the route, some of them having been there for more than 24 hours.  The smell of Oktoberfest hangs in the air like a long pass from Aaron Rogers to Greg Jennings.  Smoke from charcoal grills and the aroma of black coffee find my nose as I run toward the one mile marker.


Fortunately for me, my feet have been able to weather the daily beating they get when running, walking or dancing.  Which, given my feet and their high arches, is something of a miracle.  I've had occasional trouble with my knees and ankles, but never my feet.

I was reading an article the other day that discussed a new trend in running called barefoot running.  Actually it isn't new, since humans would walk and run without shoes long before shoes were invented and worn on the foot.  And in many poorer countries barefoot running is still common.  The concept of running barefoot looks at how the lateral edge of the forefoot strikes the ground.  Running in padded shoes typically alters this pattern, leading to repetitive stress injuries.

 

An alternative to running with no shoes is barefoot-inspired footwear like Vibram Five Fingers -- shoes which use minimal padding and separate the toes to give the appearance and sensations of running without shoes.  This new style of shoe, while not all that common at the Maple Leaf Race, did appear on a few runners that were participating in the half marathon.

Along with a man wearing a dress.


The song that plays in my ear buds is "Surfing With the Aliens" by Joe Satriani.  It is an image that hits home as I pass the half-way mark of the race and head back across the Black River bridge.  As I pass approaching runners on my left, I start looking for familiar faces.  Is my son behind me, or has he passed me by like the rest?  Where is Hilby, who I play basketball with?  I hadn't seen him pass me either, but with over 850 runners in the race, it wouldn't be hard.  

The stark looks I get from those on the sidelines make me wonder:  why am I here?  There are a lot of runners today, and I am finding myself getting passed by almost all of them.  Not that I'd ever think of myself as a good runner.  But getting passed by an overweight white guy wearing a knee brace is rubbing me the wrong way.

I decide not to stop and catch my breath, instead I push myself along the third and fourth miles of the race.  There's a bridge that spans the railroad tracks near Monitor Street that sucks the life out of you just as you're wearing down from 30 minutes of running.  Sweat continues to run into my eyes as I crest the bridge and start down the other side.  The drumming of my heart is loud, despite the music in my ears.  Even with the cool temperatures, my shirt is soaked with sweat and a side ache is starting to cause me some trouble.


Another aspect of running that must be dealt with is pain.  I think all exercise comes with some discomfort, depending on how hard you push it.  Sometimes the pain comes during the exercise -- other times it comes after you're done.  When I train in the morning, I can usually expect my feet and ankles to hurt the first twenty minutes.  I suppose that comes from basketball.  Stop.  Go.  Jump.  And go again. Stop, and run the other way.  The constant change of directions has taken its toll on those 204 bones, tendons, ligaments and muscles.  With  running, it's always one direction and -- depending on the traffic -- non-stop.

So by the time the sun is lighting up the sky, I'm beginning to feel loose enough to enjoy the morning's jog to it's ultimate finish.  The pain is forgotten and the joy of having accomplished a morning of practice fills me with hope for another day of work and family.  It's not until the following morning as I get out of bed that my ankles and feet feel the pain from the other day's run.

For me, physical pain and mental boredom is the challenge that comes with running.  I've mentioned the obstacles that keep many people from running a race like a 5K or 5 mile.  Like all challenges in life, however, you have to overcome pain to achieve things you never thought you could.  With me, it's running.  I'll never be very good at it, but I'll give it my best every time I try.


Eight minutes later I spot my wife and two friends who have decided to walk the 5K portion of the race.   I slice through the spot between my wife and Paul and curve back to the right.  As I start the race's last mile, I am determined not to let all my training during those dark and cold mornings go to waste.  I'll be damned if I am going to let my sore feet, tired legs and aching side slow me down.  Gasping for breathe, I push on.

Suddenly from out of nowhere, my son pulls up next to me and smiles.  I could be mistaken, but he doesn't look tired AT ALL, and all the sweat in the Carlson family seems to be on my body, not his.  It's almost like he's on coasters as he effortlessly runs past the Oktoberfest southside grounds. 

As we arrive together at the final turn of the race, I can see the finish line full of cheering faces, waiving arms and an occasional camera. Sean stretches his gait and pulls ahead of me, easily finishing his first Oktoberfest race.  Eight seconds later, I join him smiling from ear to ear.

I can't explain the reason why some people run.  But for me, it's overcoming another year on the calendar.  Nothing is as easy as it used to be, but running the Oktoberfest and Festival race in the spring are two more way to turn back time and reveal a new me.

Mission accomplished, and a new goal for next year:  45 minutes or better.