I am going to begin running barefoot. This was a bizarre statement even coming from my mouth, I can only imagine the initial thoughts when my significant other heard that.
I think back to my childhood and my “barefoot” history. Oregon offered lots of lush greenery and the part of Clackamas County that I spent my childhood in offered long open two lane roads with nothing but rain drops and mud on them. Hay fields, open roads, dirt fields, grass lawns and gravel driveways are what I can recall with the most detail from my childhood. Being barefoot on that many different textures I was always learning how to tune in to where my feet were. As a youngster I always had muddy feet, my mom couldn’t tell me wash my feet enough. Actually thinking back, me and the dog always had to shake off in the laundry room and there were three rugs before you entered the actual house- well played mom.
On top of the ground textures that I became very familiar with, there was a large barn being built in our backyard by my wonderful father and for about 2 months it was just wood framing from the ground to the roof, it stood probably 25 feet in the air. I was drawn to climbing up and down that like kids to candy. The best part about this, majority of the time I was barefoot. I can remember two very detailed times that I was “busted “ for being barefoot in this DIY jungle gym, which to my parents was an active construction site. To me it was a jungle of steel, wood and weeds laid out sporadically over the yard that boosted creativity and challenged me to maneuver through the beautiful mess. I would leap, jump and climb up for hours on end.
Moving forward about 6 or so years of being a barefoot child, in high school I recall a party I was at, in my hometown. It was just your average 15 people house party in a neighborhood. I was, of course already barefoot at the party, were all hanging out on carpet anyways, that's ok right? A friend of mine walked up and challenged me to a race, a foot race, barefoot. I laughed, doubting his seriousness as he was probably a 12 pack in already and the only way I could find out if he was serious was if I agreed. I laughed again and said alright let’s do this, we walk out front and I turn to him and look down at his feet, waiting for him to take his shoes off. Of course that’s the catch, I am the only on barefoot, I should have known! As I am looking down the 200 meter (give or take) black top street he says alright 3, 2, 1- RUN! Honestly, the actually foot race happened so quickly that I only remember crossing the invisible finish line and looking over to my dear friend behind me! This was my very first barefoot “race” and I will remember it forever.
After reminiscing on the good ole days of being a child being barefoot in the country’s most beautiful land, I am ready to walk on coals out here in Arizona and pick up this barefoot journey right where I left off.
I think back to my childhood and my “barefoot” history. Oregon offered lots of lush greenery and the part of Clackamas County that I spent my childhood in offered long open two lane roads with nothing but rain drops and mud on them. Hay fields, open roads, dirt fields, grass lawns and gravel driveways are what I can recall with the most detail from my childhood. Being barefoot on that many different textures I was always learning how to tune in to where my feet were. As a youngster I always had muddy feet, my mom couldn’t tell me wash my feet enough. Actually thinking back, me and the dog always had to shake off in the laundry room and there were three rugs before you entered the actual house- well played mom.
On top of the ground textures that I became very familiar with, there was a large barn being built in our backyard by my wonderful father and for about 2 months it was just wood framing from the ground to the roof, it stood probably 25 feet in the air. I was drawn to climbing up and down that like kids to candy. The best part about this, majority of the time I was barefoot. I can remember two very detailed times that I was “busted “ for being barefoot in this DIY jungle gym, which to my parents was an active construction site. To me it was a jungle of steel, wood and weeds laid out sporadically over the yard that boosted creativity and challenged me to maneuver through the beautiful mess. I would leap, jump and climb up for hours on end.
Moving forward about 6 or so years of being a barefoot child, in high school I recall a party I was at, in my hometown. It was just your average 15 people house party in a neighborhood. I was, of course already barefoot at the party, were all hanging out on carpet anyways, that's ok right? A friend of mine walked up and challenged me to a race, a foot race, barefoot. I laughed, doubting his seriousness as he was probably a 12 pack in already and the only way I could find out if he was serious was if I agreed. I laughed again and said alright let’s do this, we walk out front and I turn to him and look down at his feet, waiting for him to take his shoes off. Of course that’s the catch, I am the only on barefoot, I should have known! As I am looking down the 200 meter (give or take) black top street he says alright 3, 2, 1- RUN! Honestly, the actually foot race happened so quickly that I only remember crossing the invisible finish line and looking over to my dear friend behind me! This was my very first barefoot “race” and I will remember it forever.
After reminiscing on the good ole days of being a child being barefoot in the country’s most beautiful land, I am ready to walk on coals out here in Arizona and pick up this barefoot journey right where I left off.
