Burning Runner: Battling The Barefoot Runner
Updated: Oct 25th 2010 1:45 PM EDT by Mario Fraioli
Week 14: T.J. gets 15 minutes closer to his goal at yesterday’s Dodge Rock ‘n’ Roll L.A. Half Marathon.
Written by: T.J. Murphy
I first saw the Barefoot Runner at mile 8, at the point in the half marathon where the finish line feels out of touch despite the fatigue that triggers a shadow of doubt about whether or not you’ll be able to hold the pace to the finish line. Luckily for me, the Barefoot Runner gave me a focal point for the next few miles as I couldn’t drop him and he couldn’t drop me.
It’s not that I don’t like running with others during a distance race. I absolutely do, and like most, the effect of being alongside a competitor brings the pace up a notch from what you might be doing alone.
Of course, this was at the Dodge Rock ‘n’ Roll Los Angeles Half Marathon yesterday, and in a Rock ‘n’ Roll race the fellow or gal next to you might be wearing a hot dog costume or showing off their particular interpretation of Elvis.
When the shirtless Barefoot Runner pulled up in front of me and I saw that he was without even Vibrams on his feet, how could I not be amazed? The course was hilly, with several long sweeping uphills and a couple of steep, sharp drops on pavement that was not laid yesterday. As it was for the cheerleading squads along the course who spotted him, the sight of a guy prancing along on the balls of his feet for 13 miles is a shocker. Because he had an iPod plugged into his ears I’m not sure how much he heard the howling cheers from the fans and screams of ‘Go barefoot guy!” but I sure did. In fact, a lead singer from one of the bands at around mile 10 or so hit the brakes in the middle of the song: “Hey barefoot guy! Wow! Are you from Fiji?”
The fuss didn’t bother me, but I pushed my pace to try and drop the Barefoot Runner because he was terrible at running tangents. At one point we entered an S curve, and if you were paying attention it was impossible not to see the straight line that sliced right through the belly of the S. Not barefoot guy. He surfed his way right through it, which meant he kept cutting in front of me, swooping past, back and forth, like Snoopy’s Sopwith Camel. So I kept pressing to stay ahead of him. It wasn’t to be. The Barefoot Runner pulled away in the last mile and I didn’t have the gas to go with him.
But I was very happy with the race, having crossed the finish line in 1:36:37.
Updated: Oct 25th 2010 1:45 PM EDT by Mario Fraioli
Week 14: T.J. gets 15 minutes closer to his goal at yesterday’s Dodge Rock ‘n’ Roll L.A. Half Marathon.
Written by: T.J. Murphy
I first saw the Barefoot Runner at mile 8, at the point in the half marathon where the finish line feels out of touch despite the fatigue that triggers a shadow of doubt about whether or not you’ll be able to hold the pace to the finish line. Luckily for me, the Barefoot Runner gave me a focal point for the next few miles as I couldn’t drop him and he couldn’t drop me.
It’s not that I don’t like running with others during a distance race. I absolutely do, and like most, the effect of being alongside a competitor brings the pace up a notch from what you might be doing alone.
Of course, this was at the Dodge Rock ‘n’ Roll Los Angeles Half Marathon yesterday, and in a Rock ‘n’ Roll race the fellow or gal next to you might be wearing a hot dog costume or showing off their particular interpretation of Elvis.
When the shirtless Barefoot Runner pulled up in front of me and I saw that he was without even Vibrams on his feet, how could I not be amazed? The course was hilly, with several long sweeping uphills and a couple of steep, sharp drops on pavement that was not laid yesterday. As it was for the cheerleading squads along the course who spotted him, the sight of a guy prancing along on the balls of his feet for 13 miles is a shocker. Because he had an iPod plugged into his ears I’m not sure how much he heard the howling cheers from the fans and screams of ‘Go barefoot guy!” but I sure did. In fact, a lead singer from one of the bands at around mile 10 or so hit the brakes in the middle of the song: “Hey barefoot guy! Wow! Are you from Fiji?”
The fuss didn’t bother me, but I pushed my pace to try and drop the Barefoot Runner because he was terrible at running tangents. At one point we entered an S curve, and if you were paying attention it was impossible not to see the straight line that sliced right through the belly of the S. Not barefoot guy. He surfed his way right through it, which meant he kept cutting in front of me, swooping past, back and forth, like Snoopy’s Sopwith Camel. So I kept pressing to stay ahead of him. It wasn’t to be. The Barefoot Runner pulled away in the last mile and I didn’t have the gas to go with him.
But I was very happy with the race, having crossed the finish line in 1:36:37.
