This was to be my first race completely barefoot, my third half. I signed up at the expo prior to the Indianapolis Mini Marathon which I ran in my Bikilas at my MAF pace. The last week prior to the race I was nervous since TOFP had curtailed my training for 3 weeks, meaning my running fitness would be sub-optimal, and probably my sole conditioning as well. I had managed to top out at 9 miles consecutive, however I knew this would be woefully inadequate.
The morning of the race I did my normal routine of making sure I had my stuff together, a very light breakfast composed of grains, and a preemptive strike against the terrible poo monster. I got my fuel belt ready with 2 bottles of electrolyte water and plent of Cliffshot Gel (Mocha with caffeine). My wife and I caught a cab to Jackson Park at 5:36 AM in order to be at the start line in plenty of time for the 7:00 AM start. It was a pretty typical pre- race atmosphere; plenty of runners milling about getting ready, stretching, engaged in their pre-race rituals. I dropped my personal effects off at the gear check when it struck; the terrible rumble from deep within the bowels. Now normally I abhor Port-O-Let for number 1, but I knew if I didn't slay the mighty poo monster before the start, we were going to be engaged in intense intestinal combat over the course of many miles, similar to Gandolf facing off against the Balrog falling through the center of Middle Earth.
I will mention here that while I intended to run the race barefoot, I affixed my Vibrams to my fuel belt since I was unfamiliar with the course I was to run (just in case). Now, I could have put my Vibrams on just for the Port-O-Let, however anyone who has put those things on and taken them off knows how much of a struggle it can be. I was pleasantly surprised how clean the floor appeared when my turn came, as I didn't have to dodge any mysterious puddles. I would like to take the time here to apologize to the young lady who used the facilities immediately after me. Also, special shout out to the ladies, as the hover technique is more difficult to perform than I had imagined, and I have a new respect for female runners. My business now complete, I donned my fuel belt and heart rate monitor, and headed for the corral.
I was not seeded, so I sought out the 2:30 pacer and assumed my place amongst the throng of racers. There was some obligatory banter and questions regarding my lack of shoes; not completely unexpected. The surface on the start area was well-worn asphalt. I felt comforted here as I generally run on a similar surface, if not something resembling chip seal. The gun went off, and the butterflies built as we slowly edged toward the start line. 13 minutes and change later, it was my turn. I started off a little faster than my goal pace of a 13 minute mile, which was the cutoff pace. When racing I have a problem of starting off faster than I want and paying for it later on. This time however, I managed to overcome my adrenaline and maintained a 12:30 pace. I got passed. A lot. This was not unexpected, and I tend to not get discouraged by this. Between miles 2 and 3, the 2:45 pacer passed me. This was the run-walk group; I decided I would hang with them as long as I could.
This group was actually a bit faster than the pace I had trained at, but I was afraid of falling behind the 13:00 cutoff pace and being relegated to the off pace group. They would pull ahead of me, and I would catch up during their walk portion just in time for them to pull ahead again.
When the route finally turned onto Lakeshore Drive (the highlight of the course) there was a change in surface. "Oh joy" I thought to myself, concrete! Up until now, my experience with concrete had been rather positive. In general I found the stuff to feel pretty smooth and enjoyable; even the "striped" variety. Not in this case however as the stripes travelled the width of the road, rather than the length. Not too terrible. Then I reached mile 5.
For some backstory: my first half I ran in Asics GT 2150s. At mile 11 I experienced excruciating pain in my knee which I later found out was ITBS. I finished the race, but had to take 6 weeks off from running. Through research, I arrived at the conclusion that traditional shoes were bad, and that I had a strength imbalance. My next race I ran in my Vibrams, and magically around mile 11 I felt a familiar twinge in my right knee. I stopped to stretch and pop the afflicted knee, and complete the race without much pain and at my goal pace. Through strength training and foam rolling, I experienced no ITBS related pain while training for this race. I knew that I was going to be in for a long race and began to wonder If I would even finish.
Throughout the next few miles, there were various comments both from participants and spectators alike. Most of them were surprise, a few were Kudos. I kept up with the 2:45 pace group, but as the miles ticked by, I felt my soles getting more and more tender. I found myself actively seeking the well-worn tracks on the concrete from cars. My knee pain would come and go, and I took the opportunity to walk through the hydration stations. Conditions were cool, in the low 70's, with moderate humidity and overcast. The road surface temps were a non-factor, and I was able to enjoy the sight and sound of the tempestuous waves of Lake Michigan crashing against the shore.
Aroud mile 10, my soles began getting pretty uncomfortable, almost unbearable. I had reached the extent of my training and I knew it. The problem was that I had 3 miles to go. I would be damned if I had to put those shoes on; I had a goal and I was going to reach it. Mile 11 came and went, and my tender feet combined with my knee to form some kind of titanic pain Voltron. I wanted to quit, but my mind wouldn't let me. I began to walk a little bit more than the run-walk group. Soon, the pace flag and the encouraging shouts of the pacer were too far ahead for me to catch up.
Mile 12 and more walking. The cheers of the spectators calling my name spurred me on. My knee was burning and tight, and my feet were in agony. I began to start cramping; my right calf first, almost but not quite. My mind said no to cramps. Then my left arch. Again, the mind quieted the urge my muscles had to give up. I ran by another enthusiastic spectator who noted my barefootedness and cheered me on. I made it perhaps a dozen yards and had to walk. She cheered me on and told me I could do it; I believed her and started running again. 3/4 of a mile to go; it seemed like an eternity.
Stubbornness kicked in; 1/2 a mile to go said the sign. By now I was completely miserable and just wanted to be done. Lakeshore Drive was over, and we were back on familiar rough pavement only now, my soles were so tender they were burning. The familiar surface was a bane, not a boon. Just before the 13 mile marker, one of the medics saw me. He must have noticed the grimace on my face and the lack of shoes on my feet. He asked me if I was okay. I replied that I was.
At the 13 mile marker, I knew I was almost there. My inner voice said " f*** the pain, and I ran across the finish line. The walk to the banana girl hurt like hell. I should have ran the gauntlet to get to sweet sweet grass as soon as possible, but my wife was waiting for me just past the finish line. I walked over and hugged her, and I found myself crying as I was completely mentally and physically drained. She hopped the fence and helped me the rest of the way to the gear check.
I gathered myself and my effects. I was in pain; my knee was stiff as hell and my feet were screaming. I thought there would be hell to pay. I finished in 2:51:16, slightly slower than my goal due to the walking, but I'll take it. The next day there was no sign of blisters and no bruising. The soles are still tender and there is some mild pain where the 5th metatarsal meets the cuboid bones. My knee on the other hand needs some addressing. Surprisingly, the TOFP derailed my training was a non-factor, for which I am grateful. Overall, the course was great, especially the Lakeshore Drive portion. Clearly my soles needed more conditioning, and I'm sure my break in training so close to the race hurt me. I'm going to take some time off from racing to address some strength imbalances which I feel contributed to my knee issue, and to build up my sole conditioning. Despite the adversity, it was an awesome experience, and I'm happy that I completed a half marathon completely barefoot.
The morning of the race I did my normal routine of making sure I had my stuff together, a very light breakfast composed of grains, and a preemptive strike against the terrible poo monster. I got my fuel belt ready with 2 bottles of electrolyte water and plent of Cliffshot Gel (Mocha with caffeine). My wife and I caught a cab to Jackson Park at 5:36 AM in order to be at the start line in plenty of time for the 7:00 AM start. It was a pretty typical pre- race atmosphere; plenty of runners milling about getting ready, stretching, engaged in their pre-race rituals. I dropped my personal effects off at the gear check when it struck; the terrible rumble from deep within the bowels. Now normally I abhor Port-O-Let for number 1, but I knew if I didn't slay the mighty poo monster before the start, we were going to be engaged in intense intestinal combat over the course of many miles, similar to Gandolf facing off against the Balrog falling through the center of Middle Earth.
I will mention here that while I intended to run the race barefoot, I affixed my Vibrams to my fuel belt since I was unfamiliar with the course I was to run (just in case). Now, I could have put my Vibrams on just for the Port-O-Let, however anyone who has put those things on and taken them off knows how much of a struggle it can be. I was pleasantly surprised how clean the floor appeared when my turn came, as I didn't have to dodge any mysterious puddles. I would like to take the time here to apologize to the young lady who used the facilities immediately after me. Also, special shout out to the ladies, as the hover technique is more difficult to perform than I had imagined, and I have a new respect for female runners. My business now complete, I donned my fuel belt and heart rate monitor, and headed for the corral.
I was not seeded, so I sought out the 2:30 pacer and assumed my place amongst the throng of racers. There was some obligatory banter and questions regarding my lack of shoes; not completely unexpected. The surface on the start area was well-worn asphalt. I felt comforted here as I generally run on a similar surface, if not something resembling chip seal. The gun went off, and the butterflies built as we slowly edged toward the start line. 13 minutes and change later, it was my turn. I started off a little faster than my goal pace of a 13 minute mile, which was the cutoff pace. When racing I have a problem of starting off faster than I want and paying for it later on. This time however, I managed to overcome my adrenaline and maintained a 12:30 pace. I got passed. A lot. This was not unexpected, and I tend to not get discouraged by this. Between miles 2 and 3, the 2:45 pacer passed me. This was the run-walk group; I decided I would hang with them as long as I could.
This group was actually a bit faster than the pace I had trained at, but I was afraid of falling behind the 13:00 cutoff pace and being relegated to the off pace group. They would pull ahead of me, and I would catch up during their walk portion just in time for them to pull ahead again.
When the route finally turned onto Lakeshore Drive (the highlight of the course) there was a change in surface. "Oh joy" I thought to myself, concrete! Up until now, my experience with concrete had been rather positive. In general I found the stuff to feel pretty smooth and enjoyable; even the "striped" variety. Not in this case however as the stripes travelled the width of the road, rather than the length. Not too terrible. Then I reached mile 5.
For some backstory: my first half I ran in Asics GT 2150s. At mile 11 I experienced excruciating pain in my knee which I later found out was ITBS. I finished the race, but had to take 6 weeks off from running. Through research, I arrived at the conclusion that traditional shoes were bad, and that I had a strength imbalance. My next race I ran in my Vibrams, and magically around mile 11 I felt a familiar twinge in my right knee. I stopped to stretch and pop the afflicted knee, and complete the race without much pain and at my goal pace. Through strength training and foam rolling, I experienced no ITBS related pain while training for this race. I knew that I was going to be in for a long race and began to wonder If I would even finish.
Throughout the next few miles, there were various comments both from participants and spectators alike. Most of them were surprise, a few were Kudos. I kept up with the 2:45 pace group, but as the miles ticked by, I felt my soles getting more and more tender. I found myself actively seeking the well-worn tracks on the concrete from cars. My knee pain would come and go, and I took the opportunity to walk through the hydration stations. Conditions were cool, in the low 70's, with moderate humidity and overcast. The road surface temps were a non-factor, and I was able to enjoy the sight and sound of the tempestuous waves of Lake Michigan crashing against the shore.
Aroud mile 10, my soles began getting pretty uncomfortable, almost unbearable. I had reached the extent of my training and I knew it. The problem was that I had 3 miles to go. I would be damned if I had to put those shoes on; I had a goal and I was going to reach it. Mile 11 came and went, and my tender feet combined with my knee to form some kind of titanic pain Voltron. I wanted to quit, but my mind wouldn't let me. I began to walk a little bit more than the run-walk group. Soon, the pace flag and the encouraging shouts of the pacer were too far ahead for me to catch up.
Mile 12 and more walking. The cheers of the spectators calling my name spurred me on. My knee was burning and tight, and my feet were in agony. I began to start cramping; my right calf first, almost but not quite. My mind said no to cramps. Then my left arch. Again, the mind quieted the urge my muscles had to give up. I ran by another enthusiastic spectator who noted my barefootedness and cheered me on. I made it perhaps a dozen yards and had to walk. She cheered me on and told me I could do it; I believed her and started running again. 3/4 of a mile to go; it seemed like an eternity.
Stubbornness kicked in; 1/2 a mile to go said the sign. By now I was completely miserable and just wanted to be done. Lakeshore Drive was over, and we were back on familiar rough pavement only now, my soles were so tender they were burning. The familiar surface was a bane, not a boon. Just before the 13 mile marker, one of the medics saw me. He must have noticed the grimace on my face and the lack of shoes on my feet. He asked me if I was okay. I replied that I was.
At the 13 mile marker, I knew I was almost there. My inner voice said " f*** the pain, and I ran across the finish line. The walk to the banana girl hurt like hell. I should have ran the gauntlet to get to sweet sweet grass as soon as possible, but my wife was waiting for me just past the finish line. I walked over and hugged her, and I found myself crying as I was completely mentally and physically drained. She hopped the fence and helped me the rest of the way to the gear check.
I gathered myself and my effects. I was in pain; my knee was stiff as hell and my feet were screaming. I thought there would be hell to pay. I finished in 2:51:16, slightly slower than my goal due to the walking, but I'll take it. The next day there was no sign of blisters and no bruising. The soles are still tender and there is some mild pain where the 5th metatarsal meets the cuboid bones. My knee on the other hand needs some addressing. Surprisingly, the TOFP derailed my training was a non-factor, for which I am grateful. Overall, the course was great, especially the Lakeshore Drive portion. Clearly my soles needed more conditioning, and I'm sure my break in training so close to the race hurt me. I'm going to take some time off from racing to address some strength imbalances which I feel contributed to my knee issue, and to build up my sole conditioning. Despite the adversity, it was an awesome experience, and I'm happy that I completed a half marathon completely barefoot.
