*Posted here at the BRS forum and at www.runbarefooteurope.com
I've been thinking a lot recently about this barefoot running movement and where its headed. We have some big challenges ahead of us. The Barefoot Teds, John Durants, Jason Robillards, and Tamara Gerkens of this world are really asking runners to start over from the beginning, back to when we were infants just learning to run. This concept makes sense on so many levels, but it already has its share of detractors and challengers. Success will require diligent effort and open mindedness from a core group of leaders, luckily something the movement already seems to have.
On a recent trip to South Africa, I got a chance to run in my Vibram Five Fingers, and I found myself considering the similarities between the barefoot running movement and a post-Apartheid South Africa. Let me be the first to say that a debate about running shoes pales in comparison to any discussion of the plight of millions of South Africans. But it is interesting to ponder, and as I ran along in my Vibrams in the comfortable sun, this is what was weaving its way through my thoughts.
By the way, for those who haven't been to South Africa, you are missing out. Unending views of the South African plains from the few hills around Johannesburg. Jungle-like rolling green landscape surrounding Durban with its white, sandy beaches. The beautiful seaside inlets, resorts, and rocky coastline around Capetown. Contrast that with the vast sheet-metal shanty towns in these areas, where millions of inhabitants lack power, water and sanitation. These contrasts fascinate me, which is why I love each and every trip down there.
So I was running around the inside of a walled hotel resort outside Johannesburg a few months ago, right before South Africa hosted the World Cup and only a few weeks after getting my Vibram Five Fingers. It was late autumn in the Southern Hemisphere, and the weather was cozy. I had just flown back to Jo'burg from a visit at a local manufacturer in Durban. That unique visit, and a visionary comment from the business owner, is what started my pondering.
The owner, who I will call "Sam", was a well-dressed black man in his 50s, and he employed a little over one hundred South Africans. I had communicated with Sam via email and telephone prior to my visit, so we had at least a preliminary relationship upon which to build. But I was still amazed at how openly he shared his history and experiences, unencumbered by concerns about political correctness. Here was a man who grew up in Apartheid, had benefited from its demise, loved his country, yet feared for its future. And he was anxious to tell his story to a white American who lived in a European country that was one of the ancestral homes of his former oppressors. Go figure.
Sam talked about his life during Apartheid. He was well-educated, so even the white-dominated business community had readily hired him to balance their books. He had always been interested in going into business for himself, but he had noted how a few of his black friends had started businesses only to struggle mightily due to limited financing and lack of lucrative government contracts. And Sam talked about riding in the back of the train and the effects of segregation and oppression.
Being fair, Sam also talked about the overall economic stability during Apartheid. Power grids were stable, unemployment was lower, and personal safety was a reasonable expectation.
Post-Apartheid, Sam finally started the business he always wanted. He admits to receiving nice tax incentives reserved for start ups owned by blacks. The new government mandated that significant percentages of government contracts be awarded to black-owned businesses, and that mandate helped Sam's business grow rapidly. It is important to note, I think, that Sam employs the best people he can find, regardless of background or color, so you see whites, blacks, and indians throughout his company.
At one point, Sam took me out to the shop floor. I asked him, with so many employees, had he ever considered installing a small cafeteria to feed them all, a concept still common in much of industrial Europe and some of North America. In response, Sam pointed to a group of black men working on a large machine. "Do you see those men right there? They're Zulus." He pointed to another group working on a separate machine. "You see that group? They're Xhosas. A couple of years ago, I put a small cafeteria in the warehouse. But it was never used. The Zulus and Xhosas would never eat in the same room together, not even at separate tables. The indigenous black population of South Africa consists of over 15 different tribes, and many of them have been at odds for hundreds if not thousands of years."
We went back to his office. Sam explained that giving blacks the right to vote and participate in and lead the government was the right thing to do. But it didn't mean all citizens were prepared for the rapid change and corresponding responsibility. Sam says the government is still finding its way, and some people are becoming impatient. Rolling blackouts are becoming common-place, a testament to short-sighted government planning. Unemployment has crept up and fluctuated between 25 and 40 percent for the past several years, depending on the source. More than one third of the country lives below the international poverty standard. And the government has been at a loss the last two decades in dealing with the millions of immigrants who have poured over the vast, unprotected border from countries like Zimbabwe and the Congo.
We talked about athletics, and I somehow slipped my new Vibrams into the conversation. He was fascinated to hear about these "foot gloves", and we got to talking about running shoes and injuries and barefoot running as kids. Sam then said something I'll never forget. "If the world can actually go back to running like nature intended, then there is hope. Even for places like South Africa."
I don't know if Sam's vision of hope was limited to just running or if he was referring to the broader future of his entire country, but he sure got me to thinking. And during my run back in Jo'burg, it occurred to me the barefoot running movement faces similar challenges to the wondrous country of South Africa:
Challenge #1: It's all about implementation. Just because we know a particular change is a good idea, it doesn't mean implementation will go smoothly. The entire world agrees that ending Apartheid was the right idea. However, running a country like South Africa and implementing true democracy with a stable economy has proved challenging for the leadership. For the barefoot running community, the key is organization and leadership. An organization like the Barefoot Runners Society was sorely needed, and it's leadership is a serious, dedicated group, interfacing regularly with the leaders of the movement. Regional chapters are springing up, and membership is soaring.
Challenge #2: Minor differences can derail even the best communities. If the various ethnic groups in South Africa, like the Zulus and Xhosas, cannot learn to put their differences aside and work together, South Africa is doomed. In the barefoot running community, there is already tension between those who run with literally nothing on their feet, and those who run in minimalist shoes. These two groups must remember that their shared, ultimate goal of healthier, happier runners supersedes any disagreements about shod or unshod running. The enemies, if there are any, are the podiatrist community and the shoe companies that are convinced our bodies are wrong, not our shoes.
Challenge #3: Get the world to notice. In the 1980s and start of the 1990s, the world was aware of South Africa and Apartheid. After Nelson Mandela was elected leader, the world assumed South Africa was
saved, and foreign interest waned. But South Africa's problems run much deeper, and its leaders will need the world's attention. Successfully hosting the World Cup this year was a fantastic start. For barefoot runners, we have to capitalize on every opportunity to get the word out. It's like the bumper stickers: Think Globally, Act Locally. Share your barefoot experiences with everyone. Invite a friend to run barefoot with you. John Durant's organization and planning for the First Annual New York City Barefoot Run was brilliant. Just recently, the New York Times and the CBS Evening News have done pieces on barefoot running, with interviews by John and others.
So those are the challenges I pondered as I jogged around the resort in my Vibrams. It felt good to run naturally, landing softly mid foot, the way Mother Nature intended, no clunky shoe to hold me back. Mother nature has done some amazingly beautiful work on South Africa. Let's hope the South Africans who fought for their rights can now lead the country to new heights, so all of that beauty can be preserved.
I've been thinking a lot recently about this barefoot running movement and where its headed. We have some big challenges ahead of us. The Barefoot Teds, John Durants, Jason Robillards, and Tamara Gerkens of this world are really asking runners to start over from the beginning, back to when we were infants just learning to run. This concept makes sense on so many levels, but it already has its share of detractors and challengers. Success will require diligent effort and open mindedness from a core group of leaders, luckily something the movement already seems to have.
On a recent trip to South Africa, I got a chance to run in my Vibram Five Fingers, and I found myself considering the similarities between the barefoot running movement and a post-Apartheid South Africa. Let me be the first to say that a debate about running shoes pales in comparison to any discussion of the plight of millions of South Africans. But it is interesting to ponder, and as I ran along in my Vibrams in the comfortable sun, this is what was weaving its way through my thoughts.
By the way, for those who haven't been to South Africa, you are missing out. Unending views of the South African plains from the few hills around Johannesburg. Jungle-like rolling green landscape surrounding Durban with its white, sandy beaches. The beautiful seaside inlets, resorts, and rocky coastline around Capetown. Contrast that with the vast sheet-metal shanty towns in these areas, where millions of inhabitants lack power, water and sanitation. These contrasts fascinate me, which is why I love each and every trip down there.
So I was running around the inside of a walled hotel resort outside Johannesburg a few months ago, right before South Africa hosted the World Cup and only a few weeks after getting my Vibram Five Fingers. It was late autumn in the Southern Hemisphere, and the weather was cozy. I had just flown back to Jo'burg from a visit at a local manufacturer in Durban. That unique visit, and a visionary comment from the business owner, is what started my pondering.
The owner, who I will call "Sam", was a well-dressed black man in his 50s, and he employed a little over one hundred South Africans. I had communicated with Sam via email and telephone prior to my visit, so we had at least a preliminary relationship upon which to build. But I was still amazed at how openly he shared his history and experiences, unencumbered by concerns about political correctness. Here was a man who grew up in Apartheid, had benefited from its demise, loved his country, yet feared for its future. And he was anxious to tell his story to a white American who lived in a European country that was one of the ancestral homes of his former oppressors. Go figure.
Sam talked about his life during Apartheid. He was well-educated, so even the white-dominated business community had readily hired him to balance their books. He had always been interested in going into business for himself, but he had noted how a few of his black friends had started businesses only to struggle mightily due to limited financing and lack of lucrative government contracts. And Sam talked about riding in the back of the train and the effects of segregation and oppression.
Being fair, Sam also talked about the overall economic stability during Apartheid. Power grids were stable, unemployment was lower, and personal safety was a reasonable expectation.
Post-Apartheid, Sam finally started the business he always wanted. He admits to receiving nice tax incentives reserved for start ups owned by blacks. The new government mandated that significant percentages of government contracts be awarded to black-owned businesses, and that mandate helped Sam's business grow rapidly. It is important to note, I think, that Sam employs the best people he can find, regardless of background or color, so you see whites, blacks, and indians throughout his company.
At one point, Sam took me out to the shop floor. I asked him, with so many employees, had he ever considered installing a small cafeteria to feed them all, a concept still common in much of industrial Europe and some of North America. In response, Sam pointed to a group of black men working on a large machine. "Do you see those men right there? They're Zulus." He pointed to another group working on a separate machine. "You see that group? They're Xhosas. A couple of years ago, I put a small cafeteria in the warehouse. But it was never used. The Zulus and Xhosas would never eat in the same room together, not even at separate tables. The indigenous black population of South Africa consists of over 15 different tribes, and many of them have been at odds for hundreds if not thousands of years."
We went back to his office. Sam explained that giving blacks the right to vote and participate in and lead the government was the right thing to do. But it didn't mean all citizens were prepared for the rapid change and corresponding responsibility. Sam says the government is still finding its way, and some people are becoming impatient. Rolling blackouts are becoming common-place, a testament to short-sighted government planning. Unemployment has crept up and fluctuated between 25 and 40 percent for the past several years, depending on the source. More than one third of the country lives below the international poverty standard. And the government has been at a loss the last two decades in dealing with the millions of immigrants who have poured over the vast, unprotected border from countries like Zimbabwe and the Congo.
We talked about athletics, and I somehow slipped my new Vibrams into the conversation. He was fascinated to hear about these "foot gloves", and we got to talking about running shoes and injuries and barefoot running as kids. Sam then said something I'll never forget. "If the world can actually go back to running like nature intended, then there is hope. Even for places like South Africa."
I don't know if Sam's vision of hope was limited to just running or if he was referring to the broader future of his entire country, but he sure got me to thinking. And during my run back in Jo'burg, it occurred to me the barefoot running movement faces similar challenges to the wondrous country of South Africa:
Challenge #1: It's all about implementation. Just because we know a particular change is a good idea, it doesn't mean implementation will go smoothly. The entire world agrees that ending Apartheid was the right idea. However, running a country like South Africa and implementing true democracy with a stable economy has proved challenging for the leadership. For the barefoot running community, the key is organization and leadership. An organization like the Barefoot Runners Society was sorely needed, and it's leadership is a serious, dedicated group, interfacing regularly with the leaders of the movement. Regional chapters are springing up, and membership is soaring.
Challenge #2: Minor differences can derail even the best communities. If the various ethnic groups in South Africa, like the Zulus and Xhosas, cannot learn to put their differences aside and work together, South Africa is doomed. In the barefoot running community, there is already tension between those who run with literally nothing on their feet, and those who run in minimalist shoes. These two groups must remember that their shared, ultimate goal of healthier, happier runners supersedes any disagreements about shod or unshod running. The enemies, if there are any, are the podiatrist community and the shoe companies that are convinced our bodies are wrong, not our shoes.
Challenge #3: Get the world to notice. In the 1980s and start of the 1990s, the world was aware of South Africa and Apartheid. After Nelson Mandela was elected leader, the world assumed South Africa was
saved, and foreign interest waned. But South Africa's problems run much deeper, and its leaders will need the world's attention. Successfully hosting the World Cup this year was a fantastic start. For barefoot runners, we have to capitalize on every opportunity to get the word out. It's like the bumper stickers: Think Globally, Act Locally. Share your barefoot experiences with everyone. Invite a friend to run barefoot with you. John Durant's organization and planning for the First Annual New York City Barefoot Run was brilliant. Just recently, the New York Times and the CBS Evening News have done pieces on barefoot running, with interviews by John and others.
So those are the challenges I pondered as I jogged around the resort in my Vibrams. It felt good to run naturally, landing softly mid foot, the way Mother Nature intended, no clunky shoe to hold me back. Mother nature has done some amazingly beautiful work on South Africa. Let's hope the South Africans who fought for their rights can now lead the country to new heights, so all of that beauty can be preserved.
