Man, I'm slow.

My brother came into town and stayed with us. He's running the boilermaker as well and hasn't been training much so I figure perfect person to go for a run with. Nope, I'm slow. I was holding him back from his natural pace. I guess I haven't found my true pace, I have to give myself a year to get my feet in shape, and get up to speed.

Running meditation

Ever since I really discovered sports, around 6th grade, I played hard... really hard. I kept that ethic through high school, college and beyond. It didn't matter if it was practice, or a game, or play-offs, I gave it all I had until it was time to go home. This is all well and good for a spry 17 year old who has a 2 hour track practice, then goes to CYO basketball practice for 2 hours, only to play football after school the next day, and full court basketball most of Saturday afternoon. Post college, things change, and I've devolved to more of a weekend warrior. (Sure, I've taught gym, but you really don't go all out when an errant move could send a 7 year old into a concrete wall.) With barefoot running, I've HAD to slow down, to think of form, not fast. The result is a slower, easier run that doesn't demolish your soul. Which is what I was used to when I ran in the past. Worse yet, when I'd run to music. I'd be completely done by the time "Beat of the Brat" ended on my Ramones tape.

Take off your headphones, take off your shoes, and go for a moving meditation.

NY Times article on BFR

Looking at you, heel strikers.

Times.

Bad Ass Grandpa

I have nothing new to report, due to my sprained toe. I played too much disc golf this weekend, which was a mistake as you pivot on your right foot when driving, right at the point of pain. D'oh. Anyway, last week I visited my parents, and got talking with my Grandfather. Turns out growing up in Pennsylvania, his Grandfather was too broke/cheap to buy shoes for the kids, so when warm, they were barefoot. All the time. Once in a while they would get cut while playing around the coal mines or railroad tracks. He was also a beast of a football player, which got him a scholarship and out of the coal mines. I asked if he ever had any injuries to his knees or ankles playing sports, and he had not, only one bad cut that put him in the hospital. Of course, in this era, shoes were pretty thin, no thick sneakers with coils or tubes or whatever. I just like the idea of Ed Masel, Marine, football star, coal miner, teacher and barefoot runner.