Barefoot Running in Baltimore City Streets

I had been thinking about it for two weeks. The book, “Borne to Run,” had me obsessed with running, chia seeds, rice/bean diet and thoughts of barefoot running.

I decided to leave my dog, Reef, behind even though he is a dedicated running partner. I was concerned that he would pull me across broken glass from the neighborhood bars. As it was Saturday morning, so the fed hill frat boys were out in full force the night before.

I stepped out onto my front steps: no shoes, no socks. I paused for a moment as I contemplated my sanity and smiled as my neighbor starred at me wondering what the hell I was doing. I pulled my headphones over my ears and started up to Fort Ave and headed to Fort McHenry. I only made it a block when one runner commented and pointed at my feet, “You forgot your shoes!” I forgot my shoes? Well, of course I did. She was so serious too. At that moment, I realized that this running event was a social psychological experiment as while as a physical challenge.

I hopped over cigarette butts, dog poop, and broken glass. I can’t explain how much fun I was having. I felt like I was running on the beach without the scenery, soft surface and ocean breeze. Unfortunately, Baltimore City does not offer those luxuries.

It was odd to feel my feet grab the surface and pull my body forward. I felt it lock-in on each stride. Over a mile into the run, I started feeling some hot spots on my feet. A quick glance, revealed my first cut. Not a big deal and definitely expected. I quickly learned what color blocks of sidewalk stung the most and on every street crossing I ran on the painted line for a temporary relief.

Three blocks away from my house I stopped for a red light. A garbage truck pulled up besides me and a guy hops out and says, “Honey, are you really doing this?” I smiled as he got onto the ground and offered his hands to rest my feet on. The light turned green and he wished me good luck.

I completed the run. My feet were throbbing and I was barely able to walk to my bathroom to begin scrubbing my wounds with hydrogen peroxide. My roommate instilled fear into me that the city rats and used needles on the streets were going to infect me with some disease. Whatever. So, what did I learn from this experience:
• Reef is one tough beast to be barefoot on a daily basis.
• Running in shoes makes me feel like a cheater.
• Vibram Five Fingers will have to be my happy medium between shoes and naked running.

What’s next? How about organizing a group of “crazy” runners and run through the Inner Harbor on a busy day. Who is in??

There is actually some reasonable evidence (especially the construction of the foot and the gluteal muscles) that evolutionary pressure on our ancestors favoured those individuals who could run great distances. Today's gatherer-hunter peoples hunt their prey by running, with a pace between a trot and a jog that is much more economical than walking, and which they can keep up for hours.

Be healthier, be greener and dust off your bike! http://ping.fm/iPzQM

Arizona Canyoneering: Using Ropes to Escape

The silhouette of the mountain range is in my rear view mirror when suddenly a jackass driver flashes his lights, speeds by me, slams on his brakes and cuts me off. Yep, reality check number one: I was back in the city. Reality check two confronted me as soon as I walked through the house door: my brand new blazer. Another slap in the face that the corporate world was awaiting my return on Monday. I grabbed a beer and reflected on my dual provocation.

I arrived in Arizona with an itch to explore the mountain ranges but not on a foot hike or a bike tour. So, how? Canyoneering!

It turns out that I do not have the knowledge nor tool set to do this alone. So, I emailed and called every tour guide company in Arizona in search of this thrill. Finally, I got an email from CenterFocus Experience's tour guide, "Sue, if you were willing to go out on an informal/under the table level, and meet me 30 minutes south of Sedona in Camp Verde, I could possibly take you out myself on Wednesday. Cheers, Garrett Bennett." Yep, he could be a serial killer looking to murder me in the desert. In addition, my doctor told me specifically no rock climbing due to my stitches and my quad muscle was still screaming from the previous day's hike. Yet, it was TOTALLY worth the risk. Let's go!

We met in Camp Verde, a small town, in which the only bar just went out of business. Garrett enlightens me that you would have to punch the first person you see to earn the right to enjoy a drink at that bar. Guess it is a good thing its closed.

We off road and climb up to 7000 feet above sea level as we enter the Coconino National Forest. The road is not just rough but barely passable making the area completely isolated. We park and throw bags on our shoulders and begin to scramble over rocks creating our own path to the "crack" in the earth.

The challenge with canyoneering is once you commit, you can only move forward (or call Search and Rescue). The first drop was 80 ft into the slot and the rappelling continued 5 more times. Each time we landed in snow-melted pools of water which continued to decrease in temperature. The last rappel I landed in the water and began floating on my back away from the cracked earth into the flowing creek. The journey continues as we hiked up the creek (literally in the water) to begin our exit. It consisted of a 1000 ft rock climb to the top of the basin. No time to really think about the danger, I found grips for my hands and began to push up with my legs to ascend this monster. At the top, the deep basin we just climbed out of became a vantage point to the horizon. We then continued to hike a game trail to the car. We celebrate the canyon, the adventure, and new friendship with a beer and watched a storm creep over the north side of the canyon.



Back home, I sip on a new beer and check my gmail account only to find a welcome email from my new company. I ignore it because today I want to play in the woods!