I had one of the best runs of my life this morning. I ran 10K barefoot, along near-empty and near-silent suburban streets. It was cool (14C) and sunny, and I found my groove early. Ran like a gazelle. Seriously. A slow gazelle, I’ll grant you, at a 6:24 pace, but a gazelle nonetheless. My form was absolutely perfect, my back perfectly straight, and my footfalls almost soundless on the roadway.
This run was an hour-long meditation, a kind of Zen mind/Tantric body experience. It was a full hour of focused and fluid energies, all coming from the soles of my feet and directed towards where they would do the most good. It was a gift and a giving.
Now that the blisters are subsiding and my calves aren’t on fire after each run, I think I’m beginning to get the hang of this barefoot running thing.