Primal Professional Barefoot Dress Shoe (Prototype)

THE STORY - A Colorado 14er in California?
April 23rd, 2012 - A man named Mountain and his girlfriend Cherry step out of a silver rental sedan on a sunny spring afternoon and I greet them at my door for the first time in person. They will spend a few days with my wife and I along their massively epic US road trip, taking them from their home in sunny California to the cool Midwest, the East Coast, and the baked Southwest, mostly to see their homeland in its fullness, but also to take care of some business. The warmth of their West Coast home radiates from their smiles, and I like them immediately. It's true that his full name is Mountain Evan Chang, and I wonder if he's named after Mt. Evans, the third tallest peak in Colorado at 14,264ft with the highest paved road in North America. Not a bad start to life with a name like that. His female companion Cherry exudes the very essence of the fruit itself, sweet and vibrant. Indeed it seems these two were destined for greatness by their very names alone.

I met Mountain about 6 months earlier when I discovered his Indie GoGo campaign to kickstart his own business surrounding a totally new shoe design, namely for a zero-drop, minimalist dress shoe, or barefoot dress shoe as it were. Choosing to adhere to the paleo diet and live life as an urban caveman of sorts got him to thinking about bringing the ethos of his personal life into his work life, a place filled with modern conventions that are contrary to most everything we know in life to be healthy: sitting all day, slouching in front of a computer under artificial light, wearing constricting clothing, and eating junk food to stay awake to do work that does neither provide joy nor satisfaction. That may be an overstatement, but you get the idea. In any case, like many people devoted to a more primal lifestyle, being barefoot - or as barefoot as possible - is a key ingredient, for various health reasons. Thus, designing a barefoot dress shoe that not only provides comfort and a minimalist feel but also compliments the modern dress shoe style became increasingly more paramount to him as a member of the professional world.

THE DREAM
In my last post, I discussed the notion of making an impact on the world in a positive way, while also leading a kickass life. It's important to allow our dreams to be larger than life, and even more important to dedicate the energy necessary to truly make them a reality, which is what Mountain is doing, and I respect and admire him a great deal for it. Although his initial Indie GoGo campaign failed, he was so confident in his design that he quit his job and dedicated himself full-time to making this barefoot dress shoe happen. He has fronted most of his life savings to put this into production, and the moment has finally arrived. The first run of the shoe will be ready to ship in just months. Having shared in his excitement and being a supporter of his dream, I was lucky enough to snag a pair of prototypes from him to preview, so here's the sneak peek. Check it out.

THE SHOE

Design 
The idea behind this shoe is to provide as much comfort and space in an otherwise classically-shaped dress shoe, allowing for the greatest proprioception and toe-splay without sacrificing style. The clothes may make the man, but the shoes make him complete. Thus, Mountain decided on a high-quality full-grain black leather, round-toe, closed-lace, cap-toe oxford, because it's truly classic and elegant (sorry guys if the word "elegant" rubs you the wrong way - how about sexy?). It is a shoe that fits many purposes and occasions, and it's a great place to start for a minimalist dress shoe.

The penultimate feature of the design for this shoe is the shape. The shoe looks like a standard oxford, managing to hide the fact that it is wide enough to give all five little piggies room to splay and the midfoot room to expand without looking like a clown shoe. There were a couple of earlier prototypes that I had the chance to check out when Mountain was visiting, and I felt like was wearing a pair of Ronald McDonald's flattened casuals, so I'm glad that he hit the mark with this current version.

The Primal Professional in the middle, in comparison with my two pair of (very old) dress shoes.

Ultimately the coolest and most unique part of this barefoot dress shoe is the sole. The greatest beef with dress shoes for barefooters, in my observation, is the raised heel in most standard styles. To be a true barefoot dress shoe, or even a minimalist dress shoe, it would need to be zero-drop, meaning no difference in height from heel to toe, while also providing good ground feel, otherwise known more technically as proprioception. To this end, Mountain was creative in designing a sole that tricks the eye into believing the heel is raised, when in fact it's all just a ruse. By having a flexible, zero-drop sole that appears to have a raised heel, form and function become delightfully intertwined. Unfortunately, I did not get the fully finished version of the shoe, because the soles hadn't been produced yet, so the best part was missing, and instead it had just a flat piece of ersatz rubber. Here's a pic I stole from Mountain to give you the idea, however.

Quality 
Mountain went out of his way to find a manufacturer that not only is in the US, but would produce the shoe with the greatest quality, materials, and attention to detail. The leather is incredibly uniform and supple, the stitching is perfect, and it just looks sexy. I can't say that it stands out in the crowd of dress shoes, as there is really no trendy or funky accent to it, but as mentioned earlier, it's a timeless design that will withstand the fashion trends through the years. Although the pair that I received to review are unfinished in the fact that they only have an ersatz sole for the time being, the upper is impressive. Unfortunately I cannot say anything about the feel or quality of the sole itself, other than to say that the pictures look pretty swanky, and this vid - starting at 7:06 - shows superior flexibility. The entire product is manufactured by a company in Wisconsin, for which Mountain searched long and hard to ensure quality, and also to support our own national economy. A high-quality product that also maintains jobs here at home - what could be better?

Fit: The Most Comfortable Dress Shoe Ever?
To say that I was excited to receive the test prototype is an understatement. I had seen pictures of the developments and followed Mountain through the process, and thus have anticipated the final product for quite some time. In regard to the fit, they are definitely roomy enough to provide toe-splay and midfoot expansion. That being said, they didn't fit my foot terribly well. I have a very narrow heel and a wide midfoot (think swim flipper), and in order to avoid the shoe looking too clownish, the extra width in the midfoot continues back to the heel as well, making the shoe wide in general. Additionally, these are a size 7, and I normally wear a size 8 in regular shoes (7.5 in my Merrel Trail Gloves and a 39 in Five Fingers), so the sizing is also a bit wonky.

The other dilemma in designing this shoe came from the trick-the-eye sole. The foot actually rests inside of the outsole, meaning the upper must be a bit shallower to fit more properly when the foot rests so low to the ground. However, making the upper too shallow drastically changes the look of the shoe, giving it a strangely flat profile, so finding the proper shape was a challenge throughout the design process. In my case, along with my narrow heel, I also have a rather shallow foot from top to bottom. Due to this, the cuff of the shoe felt quite loose and sloppy and I never felt I could tie it quite tightly enough. The closed-lace design, while looking cleaner and classier, also hinders the ability to tie the shoe tighter, as opposed to an open-lacing system that is a bit more forgiving. I have tried on numerous closed-lace dress shoes in the past (regular dress shoes with a raised heel), and I've always had this problem around the cuff.

Laces tied all the way, foot resting normally, with visible space at heel, while wearing thick wool socks.

Despite the loose fit around the cuff, the shoes performed surprisingly well. I must admit that when I tried them on, I was disappointed, although not surprised. I know the shape of my foot well and was expecting the closed-lace design to provide a challenge in a snug fit around the cuff. Throwing all of that aside, I decided to wear them to work for a day, and being a classroom teacher who is on his feet all day, they were awesome, even with the thin, rigid temporary sole it has now. That sole, however, made them wicked slippery, and I'm glad that the actual soles will be quality non-slip rubber. Despite the temporary sole, they still looked great with a pair of nice jeans and dress shirt for "casual Friday." I tried them on with my dress pants as well when I got home, and they looked classy as hell.

So the question is; is this the most comfortable dress shoe ever? It certainly has the potential. After about an hour, I didn't notice the loose cuff except for when I went down the stairs or downhill, when my foot was pushed forward more and it cramped my toes a bit. Otherwise these were a sweet ride, and I think that with the actual sole, they will be even more comfortable. Also of note regarding the soles is that they can be replaced when worn out. Overall, I would say that there is still room for growth and improvement in the design, but seeing as this has never been done before, I give Mountain an "A" for effort. I personally am fond of the patent-leather square-toed oxford and would love to see a Primal Professional version in the future.

Is This Shoe For Everyone?
Quite a few people I've met who aren't into the minimalist "movement" don't seem to understand what the fuss is about, or they simply don't care, which begs the question of why to even consider these dress shoes, especially considering that they run around $300 a pair. Allow me to make a few points to address this. First off, let me ask you; are your dress shoes both appropriate and stylish, yet also comfortable enough to wear ALL day without sore feet by the time you take them off? If not, then you should consider these shoes. Secondly, do you want healthier, stronger feet, better posture, and a more normal, efficient gait that will prevent foot problems like bunions, a misaligned spine, and a host of other preventable maladies later in life? Consider how much time you spend at work throughout your life, for which you need to wear dress shoes (if you have such a career). Your feet will thank you for these shoes. Finally, I will direct you to this post by Jason Robillard, who has done some testing on the comfort and support of minimalist shoes while working long hours on his feet as a UPS delivery man, otherwise known as an "industrial athlete." Some of his findings and insights are truly invaluable, showing that you need not be a suit-and-tie businessman to benefit from a minimalist dress shoe. You may decide for yourself that not only is this the most comfortable dress shoe ever, but simply the most comfortable shoe, period. You even have a 365-day risk-free period to test it with free returns and exchanges during that time. That's how confident Mountain is in his product. As I mentioned earlier, you're also buying a quality product that's made in the USA from a small business owner who cares about the economy and the health of his customers (not to mention their style). That's the kind of person I would like to support.

If you're interested in more information, check out the website via the link on the side of my blog, or on The Primal Professional's Facebook page, where you'll find more photos and information on how to get in on owning a pair of these unique and comfortable shoes.

The List: Attaining Dreams and Making an Impact

Happy New Year! Well, it's 2013, the world didn't end, and here we are for another trip around the sun. Now is the time when people start making resolutions to improve their lives in the coming year, be it a plan to get in shape, be more successful in their career, or do more good for the lives of others. Of course, the cliché is that most people tend not to keep their resolutions, but I think it is nonetheless a valuable tradition. It's only a shame that most people do it only once a year at this symbolically fresh start, a sort of do-over now that we've reached the need for a new calendar. I'm a proponent of continued reflection throughout the year, and the last few weeks have brought that in various ways.

Throughout the blogosphere lately, or at least the realm in which I dwell, I've been reading a lot about two complimentary ideas, namely getting the most out of life and doing the most good. The former has included such ideas as selling everything and living a life of travel and adventure, or quitting your day job to replace it with one that you can do from anywhere at anytime and may not require much work at all. The latter has dealt with improving self and the lives of others and the greater notion of leaving a legacy. It's in the combination of these two concepts that interests me most.

On the Friday before Christmas, my two good ultrarunner friends Joe and Sam were back in town to visit family, and we managed to hook up for an awesome night run in the snow along the Kinnikinnick River in River Falls, WI. I don't often get the chance to run with friends, but a run with these guys produces rich conversation, with a flow and honesty that only a conversation while running can provide. We discussed relationships, deeper self-evaluation, future race plans, and interspersed it all with the typical humor that most male runners seem to share. All things considered, it was refreshing for the soul and a rekindling of passion for life.

Later that evening we shared a meal and more than a few beers, continuing our conversation. The three of us are all adventurers, aiming to "do cool shit" as Joe plainly puts it, but we got into the deeper repercussions of said adventure, particularly relating to ultrarunning. It's truly amazing to me still that people can run 100 miles continuously, not to mention at the paces some do, but it begs the question, "So what?" What does it truly mean, what is the value of it? In the grand scheme of things, I argued that in and of itself it doesn't mean squat, because it's not designed as a task you do to help others and improve the world. It's just doing something cool. That being said, on a more individual level it makes a huge impact: for the runner, for the crew and volunteers, and for the sake of human potential. Running 100 miles is a quest that challenges not only the body, but the mind and spirit as well, yielding huge potential for personal growth. It is, however, what you do with this growth that is important. Winning a buckle at Western States is a huge accomplishment, but if you do it just to say that you've run 100 miles in under 24 hours, it changes very little, in your life or others' lives. In Joe's case, he has used his knowledge as a physical therapist and experience as an ultrarunner to help numerous athletes as a columnist on iRunfar.com and through private coaching, not to mention his day-to-day job. Although I have not run a "hundo," my experience crewing for Joe at Western States in 2011 was inspirational to say the least and life changing to be more honest. There are many different angles in how we look at our impact on others, so long as we do consider it and make a concerted effort to be sure we're being a positive force in the world.

That brings me to a blog post I came across shortly after Christmas from a guy who quit his job, sold or got rid of most of his possessions, and is attempting to ride his motorcycle around the world. Rather than blogging about his travels, he blogs more about how to change your life for the better. The post that struck me most was on the notion of struggle. We humans need struggle. We need it to learn, grow, and create self worth. In contrast, we also seem to work diligently at making things easier for ourselves, thereby decreasing the actual struggle in our lives. It's a strange dichotomy, and for those of us who happened to be born in the right place at the right time into privilege of all sorts, our true struggles are very few, and so we create artificial struggles to overcome, to say that we too are strong, creative, intelligent, and worthy. It is for this reason that we see so many obstacle races popping up all over, like the Tough Mudder, Spartan Race, and Warrior Dash, to name a few. Although the artificial struggles may seem a bit trite at times, they can have value and may also reap huge rewards for the individual. At various points in our discussions when Joe, Sam, or I would voice some kind of complaint or issue, one of the other two of us would simply utter, "first world problems." It's a quick jerk back into reality, to say that our problems are nonsense compared to those who haven't eaten in a week, or must voyage on foot across an entire African country in order to seek refuge from rebel killers, but if we recognize this difference, we can choose to make our "first world" struggles valuable when we put their effects and outcomes to good use.

So the question is, how can you lead the most kickass AND badass life possible, living life to the fullest and still making the greatest difference in the world? That is for each of us to decide, and that's the reason behind this post. I'm reminded of a quote by E.B. White, author of Charlotte's Web, that frames the issue quite well; "I get up every morning determined to both change the world and have one hell of a good time. Sometimes this makes planning my day difficult." It's a valid sentiment, but must it be so? Can succeeding in a self chosen "struggle" yield just as much joy and satisfaction as just "doing cool shit?"

Last Saturday my wife and I watched the documentary Half the Sky: Turning Oppression into Opportunity for Women Worldwide. It was not only incredibly well done, but inspiring and thought provoking, to see ideal examples of what people are doing around the world, despite all odds, to make a difference in the lives of others. It is a two-part documentary reporting on six countries around the world where individuals or groups of people have set out to overcome seemingly insurmountable struggles such as sex trafficking, accepted gender-based violence, and unequal opportunities in education for girls. Some of the tales are harrowing, in which the individuals literally risk their lives to save underage girls from a life of rape and violence in brothels. Without a doubt it was a film to make me wonder if I'm doing enough, or if I'm doing anything at all. As a teacher, I can always say that I'm making a difference in the lives of young people, but I am a white male born in the United States, armed to the teeth with the weapons of privilege. Now is the time to contemplate if I'm using my weapons wisely and completely.

The final piece in this whirlwind of thought as of late was a post by Jason Robillard on his blog, detailing his new undertaking called the BRUcrew - a community of like-minded individuals devoted to improving themselves and the world around them by overcoming their fears and stepping up to more meaningful interactions and undertakings. It's a cool idea, although I wouldn't say totally unique. There are plenty of self-improvement strategies and groups out there, but this one found me first, mainly because he's a barefoot runner and ultrarunner and started the group mainly for training purposes, and is now expanding it to include more altruistic challenges. In any case, all of these thoughts and experiences lately have compounded to an idea I had (or stole) from my good friend Jen last summer while at her wedding in the Bighorn mountains of Wyoming. The officiant at the ceremony told several short stories about her and her groom, but one struck me as particularly simple, but brilliant. He explained that while inside Jen's apartment for the first time, he noticed a piece of paper on the fridge on which she listed all of her big dreams. They ranged from smaller, more easily attainable dreams, up to the huge ones that will be years in the making. Now, I've always been a visual person and also a list-maker. I have yellow sticky notes all over my desk and computer at work to remind me of various things, so this idea of a "dream list" struck me as a wonderful idea, to have a simple reminder staring me in the face every time I go for a glass of milk or post-workout beer. Thus I started two lists, in fact. The first list includes only names of people with whom my wife and I have pledged to have dinner or hang out. It will not only keep us on track, but give us something to look forward to in the coming months. The second list, however, is the Big One. I have titled it "The Dream is Reality List," and it includes mostly adventures so far, such as traveling to New Zealand, climbing Devil's Tower, and running at least a 50-miler. I hope to expand that list into one that will include endeavors to make a difference in others' lives, and Anna and I have already started discussing some possibilities, which is the first task. In seeking out answers to the questions posed here, we must first define a tangible and specific action that will be list-worthy.

Should you have similar feelings and desires at the turning of the new year, here are two resources to check out that helped - or will help - me flesh out the specifics better. Check out some of the links and/or additional posts by these gentlemen. They may not be mind-blowing, but they are a great place to start thinking, and better yet dialoging with others. Cheers!

Motovagabond - How to Find Your Passion
Building a Legacy Project: A Good Blueprint For a Life That Really Matters

Joy: Beyond the Runner's High

Nestled in the middle of one of the larger suburbs of the Twin Cities is a true gem for trail runners, nature lovers, horseback riders, or anyone in search of some solitude, beauty, or fresh air. At times it is a compact, cozy place, and yet it spans a rather vast territory, crossing over two major roads each a mile or more apart, and when thinking of the neighborhoods at the farthest ends, you wouldn't be wrong in assuming that you're in a completely different city. It does, in fact, stretch into the neighboring suburb of Rosemount. I'm speaking of Lebanon Hills Regional Park in Eagan, MN, one of my favorite places to run.

I've had the opportunity to train here for many years, and I've still never been on all the trails. That is to say that I'm often a creature of habit and have my favorite trails that get me as deep into the park as possible, away from all other humans, which is often a goal when I run. Lately, however, I've been running with teenagers everyday as a coach for a Nordic ski team.

In the last two weeks or so, something in the universe must have changed, because almost every run there has presented some unique factor to it that has brought me Joy, capital J intended. Runners often talk about the runner's high, the endorphins, and epic runs, but these runs seemed to have gone beyond that simple pleasure, and each run was joyful for a different reason. Thanksgiving week started with near-60 degree weather, allowing the guys on the team to run shirtless during progression intervals, but by the end of the week, Friday greeted us with only 24 degrees and snow on the ground - the first true cold run of the season. For me, the intervals on Monday were almost magical. I felt swift and relaxed, as if my feet weren't actually touching the ground but only mimicking a runner's stride so as not to disparage the kids. The grassy, rolling hills propelled me forward, awakening my senses and invigorating me. It is difficult to fully describe, but at the end of the workout I felt connected to the trail, the woods, the earth itself, and was ready for more. The kids, on the other hand, were spent.

Tuesday was a long, easy distance day. I took my usual group of the top cross-country guys and headed out. Along our 7.5-mile route on the innermost trail in the park, we meandered past lakes and ponds as the sun hung low in the November sky. Rounding a bend and coming upon one of the nameless lakes to my left, a warm, blanketing light draped the woods and water in a content stillness with a hues of gold and burnt umber, flooding my heart with equal warmth and stillness. Even in the forest on a calm day, such stillness is fleeting, and almost as quickly as it arrived, the calm was broken by the greeting of a Great Horned Owl's call from the opposite side of the trail, where the woods had already darkened and become almost brooding. Such somber sound and sight I considered more of a greeting, however, offering up my salutations as we passed.

After a Thanksgiving filled with binging on rich and succulent foods and doing absolutely nothing, I was ready for a run on Friday morning. Despite the cold weather and snow underfoot, everyone seemed chipper and ready to share their stories of how they ate too much. With the holiday warmth still fresh and the air crisp in our lungs, the run was effortless and the surroundings quiet once again. Although I usually dread the first cold run of the season, once I'm out there it's instantly therapeutic. All in all, it was a brilliant "recovery" from Thanksgiving, and also prepped me for Thanksgiving #2 with my wife's family later that day.

Fast forward to last Thursday. The weather was warmer again, and over-under intervals were on the docket. I was in charge of the varsity boys, and this would prove to be a difficult challenge for me, keeping up with them during two sets of 18 minutes of sustained hard running. Although they toasted me on the uphills (they had poles and I did not), the flats and the downs actually provided them with a challenge to keep up with me! It's not often that I can outrun the varsity boys, but this day proved that I'm clearly the fittest I've been in years. This accomplishment was not what brought me the most joy, however, but rather it was as we returned to the parking lot at the end of practice, where the trees faded away and the sky opened up to brilliant shades of imperial violet that caressed the sky as dusk fell, hushing the worries and chaos of the day. For those who don't get outside much in the colder season, this alone is the reason to venture outdoors at dusk. The sunsets are phenomenal, and completely different from anything in the summer. Combine that sight with a successful workout, and you have the perfect recipe for true Joy with a capital J.

After all of these stark moments, I have since felt more open and susceptible to Joy, aware of my surroundings and the privilege I have to run in such a place. Used as a form of meditation, of emptying one's mind of worry or obligation, a run in the woods provides a transparency of soul, allowing for better introspection and the intake of all things positive and inspirational. It is this opening up that, after spending too much time closed off in our own personal worlds of work and daily routine, makes running such a vital component in maintaining health and happiness in life, in a way that may not be as easily attained through other pursuits.

Do runner's experience more Joy than other people? It's hard to say, but I do believe that we are more susceptible to it, and I also believe that there is much more Joy to be found outside in a natural surrounding. Since runners spend a great deal of time outside, our chances are better, even more so for trail runners. This is also the reason why I love to camp, ski, rock climb, kayak, and do just about anything else in nature, and winter is no time to avoid it. When natural beauty and adventure intertwine, framed with an open mind and heart, happiness and contentment are unavoidable, but if you're seeking true Joy, get out and run on a trail somewhere. You might find that which has eluded you, but as LeVar Burton from Reading Rainbow says, "Don't take my word for it."

The Challenge of Being Upright: Improving Balance

Over the last year or so in my quest to become a better runner, I’ve done a lot of reading on various topics, ranging from running form to training regimens. One of the buzzwords I’ve come across a few times that is even more rampant in the Parkour community is proprioception; that is, the awareness of one’s own body, how it moves, and its position in space as determined by the stimuli within the body (ie sensory receptors activated by muscle activity or movement). I suppose one could say that it’s like using the Force to stretch out with your feelings and know exactly where each part of your body is in relation to the other and in relation to the ground, or sky, or objects around you. Barefoot running touts better proprioception as a huge benefit, as you become more aware of how you connect with the ground, and because the muscles, nerves, and tendons in your feet are awakened as if from a deep sleep - a deep sleep caused from having 20mm of EVA foam underneath them to numb your awareness and put your feet into a sensory deprivation tank that are known as shoes…or “foot coffins” to some hardcore barefooters.

In applying this concept to running in general, it didn’t seem too important to me initially, compared with something like gymnastics or Parkour, where if you hurdle yourself through the air without being aware of your exact trajectory, you’re gonna seriously wreck yourself. After more contemplation, however, it made perfect sense, especially when thinking about trail running, ultrarunning, and biomechanics. Having an awareness of where your body is and how it moves will give you a tool to make you more efficient, help you to overcome deficiencies in form, and when used as a focus in training, can make you stronger. One way to achieve this is through specific balance training.

There are plenty of products out there to help improve your balance, like the Bongo or Indo Board, bosu balls, and the like, but you don’t need to buy anything to improve your balance and proprioception. You just need…well, you. Throughout my ten years as a Nordic skiing coach, I’ve realized that the top culprit of bad technique comes primarily from poor balance and a lack of trust in one’s ability to bear their entire bodyweight on one leg, while also careening down the trail. Luckily for runners, this isn’t quite as challenging, but careening down mountain trails will require just as much agility and surefootedness. In any case, spending more time on one ski when paired with direct technique instruction helped my skiers improve, but it wasn’t enough. I wanted them to have better balance before even getting on skis, so I developed this simple balance drill. 

It may not seem like much, but try it and you’ll see that it’s harder than it looks, especially if you’re focusing on doing it right. If you spend at least 10 seconds in each position, you’re standing on one leg for more than two minutes. The beauty of this drill is that it can be modified in many ways and can be done virtually anywhere. I even do the simpler positions while brushing my teeth. Additionally, if you’re paying attention, you can start to feel where your body and center of gravity are. By shifting your weight forward onto the ball of the foot, or backward onto the heel, for example, you’ll feel what works better for balance, or what may challenge various muscle groups more. The same goes for leaning from side to side. By engaging the hips and pelvis and attempting to “lift” your body upwards as much as possible and keeping your legs straight without locking your knees, you’re working on balance and good posture, all the while taxing and strengthening the little muscles in your feet and calves. This can also be a good way to figure out where you might have imbalances in various muscle groups.

As you can see, I also included some extra drills for adding strength into the mix. These are more advanced, and I would recommend doing them on flat ground and/or wider surfaces first before moving on to rounded rails and such. Having good squat and pistol form on stable ground, in my opinion, trumps doing them poorly on a railing (like I did in the video). Other ways you can switch up your balance training include:

- try doing as much of the original drill with your heel raised. It’s friggin' hard!

- roll your center of balance around the edges of your foot, almost as if doing ankle rolls while standing on that foot

- Add a slosh tube for additional instability. If you can do the flying camel with a slosh tube, you’ll officially be my hero (vid or it didn’t happen).

- Find a way to measure how high you can raise your leg and strive to raise it higher

- try hopping in place in any of the various positions

- find some wobbly surfaces – or “wiggle rocks” as my niece refers to them -  to use as your platform

Above all, when doing these drills, RELAX THE FOOT! Ultimately you should be doing these barefoot or in minimal shoes, so that your foot can relax and expand, thereby activating and strengthening the various muscles and tendons. Your feet will get stronger and will thank you for it. Good luck, and add a comment below with any questions or additional ideas. I’m always looking for ways to improve this drill.

IOC Approves Ultrarunning as Demonstration Sport for 2016

NOTE: This blog is intended to provoke thought and dialogue, and not to mock my readers nor alienate myself from them. I have, therefore, edited my initial post to be more forthright.

It's a grabbing title, isn't it? Indulge me in a bit of dreaming on a curious little journey through the looking glass, if you will. A timely article, combining two great interests of mine to consider one possibility. Check it out.

"Now that the 2012 London Olympics are at the half-way point and the track and field events are underway, the IOC officially announced early this morning that since deliberations beginning last November they have approved several demonstration sports for the 2016 Games in Rio de Janeiro. Whereas demonstration sports have officially existed since 1912, including the likes of baseball, volleyball, and stranger varieties such as kaatsen - a form of handball, they were suspended after the Barcelona Games in 1992, because the IOC felt that it could not maintain the growing program size and still give the demonstration sports their due attention. Due to a spike in revenue generated through broadcasting and advertising bids from the Winter Olympics in Vancouver and for these London Games, along with a growing number of nations participating for the first time, demonstration sports will be allowed once again in 2016.

Included in the debate as to which sports would receive demonstration status were both the NOC for these London Olympics as well as the NOC for the Rio Games. Representatives of SportAccord and various IFs, along with the NOC committee members, were able to agree on three new sports to showcase: Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, ultimate frisbee, and trail ultrarunning.

[...cut out the first two and get to the point...]

Most notable in this trio is trail ultrarunning, the newest of the three and perhaps the most difficult to organize and conduct consistently around the world. Ultrarunning races constitute any distance beyond a marathon, usually in the distances of 50km, 50 miles, 100km, and 100 miles, and are often separated into road ultras and trail ultras. Because the traditional Olympic marathon is a road race, the decision was made to focus on the trail ultra, as it offers an additional degree of technical difficulty, as well as a unique setting for the spectator. The main concern of the IOC, however, is how to choose an appropriate course that will meet the criteria of an Olympic venue for the athlete, as well as the accessibility needs for monitoring and spectating.

Interestingly enough is how this sport came to the attention of the IOC. In fact, there were three key individuals involved, starting with Welsh-born Steve Jones, former world record holder in the marathon and winner of the London, Chicago, and New York marathons in the 1980's. Settling in Boulder, Colorado just a few years ago, Jones began training at altitude, ramping up his distance on trails in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains in order to prepare for a comeback to the Chicago marathon. In a chance meeting on the trail, Jones came across the second important figure in this story, ultrarunner legend Scott Jurek. The two instantly hit it off. Jurek, seven-time winner of the Western States 100-Mile Endurance Run in California and victor at a slew of other ultras in the US including the Badwater Ultramarathon - a 135-mile test through Death Valley, also resides in Boulder and continues to train and share his knowledge with others through his new book Eat & Run. After only a few runs together on the trails near Boulder, Jones was convinced that ultrarunning is the next frontier in distance running. Although Jones had no plans to personally commit to distances of 50 miles or more at the age of 56, he was, however, enamored with the idea of ultrarunning and the grit and determination of ultrarunners, a trait at the core of his own being. With the London Games approaching and an inspiring new sport in mind, Jones decided to utilize his connections to see what might happen.

Enter the third individual in this story, American marathon icon Frank Shorter. Winning the gold medal in the marathon in 1972 and the silver in 1976, Shorter was inducted into the Olympic Hall of Fame in 1984 and was instrumental in helping to establish the United States Anti-Doping Agency in 1999. Also residing in Boulder, Shorter has had close ties with Jones even before Jones moved to Boulder, and it could be argued that Shorter was part of the reason that Jones moved to Boulder in the first place. For the last 4 years, Shorter has been a representative of the IOC through the IAAF which represents all track and field and cross country events in the Olympic Games. Having both experience and influence, it was Shorter who brought ultrarunning to the Olympic stage, only after Jones badgered him about it for months. Indeed, it seems that Boulder, Colorado is not only a multinational town with strong running tendencies, but it also carries some clout around the world.

The challenge now is to determine a venue for the event in Rio. Representatives have already agreed that 100km will be the distance for the event and they are currently seeking out an appropriate trail system in the Serra do Mar mountains of the Brazilian Highlands as a venue. The IOC is also working now with the IAAF which sanctions the IAU - the International Association of Ultrarunners - to determine appropriate qualifying races for the event in Rio. The decision will be made sometime by the end of 2013."

Sound convincing? This could be huge news, with even greater implications for the ultrarunning community, if it were true, of course.

"What dude?" 

Whereas many of the details of history, people, and places are true, the connections were of my own making. I have no idea if Steve Jones, Frank Shorter, and Scott Jurek know each other personally, although they all do live in Boulder, and according to one article, Jones has at least loose connections  to the Bolder Boulder, a race that Shorter created in 1979. To my knowledge, there is no talk of reviving demonstration sports in the Olympics, nor is Shorter an IOC representative. Unfortunately for me it's not April Fool's Day, so consider this my "Douche Move of the Day" by leading you on, but I did it to elicit an honest visceral response, and to pose the following questions: what was your initial gut response to this, and what would this mean for the ultrarunning community if ultrarunning were to become an Olympic sport? There has already been a great deal of talk in the ultra community ie. on the Interwebs about the growth of ultrarunning and the potential ruination of the sport once prize money and advertising creep in to crush the simple, for-the-love-of-it attitude that many of the older veterans speak of. I'm certainly no veteran ultrarunner, and in fact I'm not even an ultrarunner, at least not yet, but I am interested in the debate nonetheless as a trail runner and aspiring ultrarunner who has great interest in both the sport and the people involved in it. I have thus kept up with the debate on this subject, and with the Olympics going on, wondered how this might play in to the sport.

In any case, I'd be very curious to know what the ultrarunning community thinks of this idea, if it's in the same category as the impending degradation of the sport that some speak of, or if it would be a positive growth factor. The Olympics, after all, are a place for non-professional athletes to come together and compete on the world stage, at least in most cases (basketball not included). Could this be similar to the race atmosphere in Europe, and would the Europeans be more open to ultrarunning in the Olympics? As we all know, athlete sponsorship is huge in regard to access to training facilities, coaching, and other financially-dependent aspects of competition, and in some cases it can make or break an athlete's chances. We certainly haven't seen that yet in the sport of ultrarunning, but where there is NBC and Coke and Nike, it could mean a drastic change in the atmosphere and even the fundamental nature of the sport, and this is but one issue to be considered. But could it ever happen?

Enjoy the contemplation, and all comments and debate are welcome; that is, if I haven't alienated you all with my misleading fiction. Cheers!

You Know You're Having Fun, Right?

Greetings from ''ze Vaterland!'' I'm here in Rottweil, Germany (indeed the home of the Rottweiler dog) leading a school exchange group for four weeks, which always makes for a great adventure, and also leads to a sometimes unpredictable schedule and compromised exercise routine. The running has been spotty at best, but I've been on the move since I got here and can honestly say that when it comes to walking and hiking, I'm super fit. I've had great ''feet time'' so far, especially with a week-long excursion to Munich last week that was packed full of on-the-go adventure. I am, however, becoming concerned about my running fitness, seeing as I've gained 5 pounds, mostly in the middle from all the bread, cheese, and ice cream I've consumed, and haven't been able to run due to another foot injury, this time while playing soccer in my Merrell barefoot shoes with a group of competitive German ''ballers'' in cleats and full soccer garb. It was a ton of fun, but I do regret playing as long as I did after getting stepped on with cleats, which brings me to the point of this entry.

That afternoon of soccer and the following consequences reminded me of my climbing trip in the Black Hills at the end of May, and a concept that was explained to us by friends and fellow climbing couple Kate and Jason. At first it was simply a phrase that they used with each other after completing a climb or an activity, said quickly and almost under their breath; ''Type 2.'' After inquiring, they outlined their typology of fun, which became one of the main inside jokes of the trip. Without further ado, here are the two types of fun:

Type I Fun - This is the typical definition we use for fun, when you can say either during the activity or shortly after that it was a blast, and that you'd do it again in a heartbeat. It might be a cool party, a waterslide, or simply catching up with old friends. The possibilities are endless, but you know that it's fun from the start and it continues to be fun while you're doing it.

Type II Fun - Whereby Type I Fun is obvious, Type II can be more elusive, and the perception of it may change over time. This is an activity that might be scary, stressful, or harrowing at the time, but once completed and after some contemplation, the person realizes how cool it was and therefore labels the adventure as fun. A great example of this would be the drive back to our campsite at Sylvan Lake from Blue Bell Lodge on an extremely foggy night during our aforementioned climbing trip. Having missed the turn to get back on the highway, we ended up driving the wildlife loop through Custer State Park, which is an incredibly winding, hilly, narrow road through the park, where no light from any town or city invades, nor are there any street lights. Visibility was no more than 15 feet in front of the car, which made the drive incredibly slow and extremely eery. Even at 20mph, coming up over a hill felt as if we were launching up into nothingness, and combined with the sudden unseen curves in the road, it felt much like this. Although it was scary at the time (especially for me since I was driving), it made for a fun adventure once we arrived safely at camp, thus Type II.

After contemplating the kicken as my German colleague refers to it, the soccer itself was a ton of fun, but the injury was not, and it continues to cause me trouble. It was certainly Type I, but the consequences require a subcategory, Type Ib - immediate fun with negative consequences. This is common for me, and I would imagine for many competitive people, who go all out during an activity and pay for it the next day or for an extended period thereafter with soreness or injury. This might also include people who love to party hard, and wake up to a hangover the next morning feeling like death warmed over (which is something I've never understood). It's the fun that causes you to contemplate if it was worth it or not. For me, I'm on the fence with that soccer game. It was definitely fun to play again, especially in Germany with people who love, understand, and play the game well, but now that I don't trust my foot on long runs, my training - and subsequent fun - has been compromised, and I'm not sure if it was worth it.

In closing, it should also be mentioned that the best adventures in life are often Type II Fun. Referring back to end of this post from last April in which I defined what an adventure is in my mind, most of what makes an adventure are things that are scary or unknown, and only after conquering fears and the unknown do we recognize how much fun it is. To me, this is the ultimate in fun, as it has more personal meaning and a lasting impact on both psyche and memory. As final food-for-thought, I propose that adventure athletes have the most fun in life, combining positive risk-taking with the huge benefits of physical activity, thus combining the joy of accomplishment, a healthy lifestyle, and the outcome of Type II Fun.

Tip O' The Day 
Should you find yourself in a potential Type II Fun setting with friends, you might consider breaking the immediate tension with some humor from the animal kingdom as we did. Having two veterinarians on the trip, we weren't without our share of animal facts, and this one always provided a laugh when well-timed, on the crux of a hard climb, for example. Apparently, when alpaca get nervous, they hum. If there are many about, it becomes a sort of call-and-response to alert each other. Here's an example to help you out. Use wisely and enjoy!

Superior Trail Races 25km

Photo Eve Stein

Well, it's been more than a month since the race and more than that since my last post. So much for the one-post-a-week goal I set for myself. The adventure season has truly begun, and there is less time to sit and collect my thoughts as I would like, but I shall take the time now to pin down this incredible experience in a bit of detail, so here goes...

I am a changed man. I knew this race would be fun, but it's now clear that I am built for trail running. Not only did I enjoy it a helluva lot more than any road running I've ever done, but it's also much easier on my body. Let me back up for a moment to give more insight into the latter statement.

Leading up to this race, my expectations were relatively low. After the half marathon at the end of April, I had a mysterious pain in my right foot which gave the threat of stress fracture. My doc told me to take at least 3 weeks off to let it heal, just in case it was, and guess how many weeks it was until the trail race? You guessed it, three exactly. It sucked that I injured myself in the warm-up for the important race, but one must adjust and adapt in such situations. After seeing the doc, however, the little bit of manipulation he did while checking my foot acted as massage, and the next morning I felt great! I waited a bit still until I started running again, just to be sure, so in the week before the race, I managed to get out twice to run on trails. It was at least nice to know things were back to normal, even if I didn't get the chance to train properly. I consider it an ''extended taper.''

The wife and I headed out on what was a lovely Friday afternoon, excited for a mini-vacation. We picked up friend and talented ultrarunner Samuel Jurek in Hinckley, not without a pause at Tobie's bakery to get doughnuts and coffee of course. It was great to catch up with Sam, especially on such a beautiful drive to the North Shore, pulling in to the Caribou Highlands Lodge parking lot around 8pm. We were lucky enough that Anna's family had come up to watch the race and cheer us on, and her brother Jerod managed to pick up our race packets for us, since we arrived after packet pick-up had ended. One less thing to worry about on race morning. We unloaded everything in our room, had a short walk outside to see the start/finish, and chilled out in the room until bedtime. I had a good long foam rolling session, which will undoubtedly be pre-race tradition from here on out.

I woke up suddenly around 5am to the 120db alarm on Sam's cell phone. Since he was running the 50K, his start was at 7am, and ours not until 9:00, so it was a bit unsettling, but I managed to fall back asleep for a while longer. I did, however, get up in enough time to see the lad off on his own adventure. From what he had relayed to me, his strategy was to stick with the leaders as long as possible, particularly Chris Lundstrom, the former champion and course record holder. If nothing else, Sam would impose his grand stature and balls-out running strategy on the other racers enough to shake up the crowd in front.

 The Man in Black, Sam Jurek

After listening to the RD give his spiel and watching the 50k-ers take off, it was time for breakfast! We brought with us a sizeable container of homemade granola, expertly crafted by my awesome wife in the first week of her newfound freedom as a recent graduate from vet school. Complete with yogurt and banana, this has proven to be the perfect pre-race fuel for me, although it must be eaten at least 1.5 hours before the race, as it's a bit heavy. A quick shower and some relaxing, and it was time to suit up. When I got up to see Sam off, it was already quite pleasant outside, proving that it would definitely be a shorts and t-shirt day, with little worry about clothing choice. Additionally, I would take with me my Fuel Belt with two gels and some Aquaphor - should I run into any foot problems, and Anna's old Camelbak Water Pro with about 3/4 liter water, which has proven to be an awesome long run companion: it fits well, doesn't bounce much, and gives me the comfort in knowing I have plenty of water. On my feet I wore my Merrel Trail Gloves and a new pair of Injinji No-Show toe socks, which have proven to protect my feet from blisters on the trails.Of course, suncscreen was liberally applied as well, despite the assumption that we would be in the cover of the forest for most of the race. The sun and hot weather affect me greatly, particularly when sunburned, so I was taking no chances.

To the start! Anna's family was there waiting for us, and it was nice to know that we had some ''fans'' to cheer us on. I suppose it helps to know that in a way I was performing for someone, and not just for myself. I spent some time obsessing over the tying of my shoes, wanting to be sure it was perfect, although the timing chip that I had tied in was a little awkward with such minimal shoes, and I knew then that I hadn't done a thorough enough job of attaching it and would probably lose it along the trail somewhere, yet I didn't take the time to fix it. The time was tight, so I decided not to worry about it. We also applied some bug spray, mostly to ward off ticks, but the DEET was so strong that it melted the plastic on my shoes! After retying them (for the third time?), my hands were coated in black plastic! Gross. 

Once again, the RD gave us the rundown of the race, and as I was listening, I wondered how many others might be racing in minimal footwear, a question I always ask myself, because I'm curious to know how popular it's becoming. As I looked down, the guy next to me had Trail Gloves on, and a few feet away there was a guy in Five Fingers and another in huarache sandals! It seems that minimalism is indeed popular. I wondered how we would all fare on this trail that I had never seen before.

The start was relatively relaxed. We headed out on the service road past the skilifts, where it turned to gravel road, in total perhaps 3/4 of a mile, before it turned onto an access trail that led up to the Superior Hiking Trail proper. Because I hadn't truly warmed up, my heart was racing a little bit from nerves and the energy of the crowd around me. It was interesting to see a few people carrying no water whatsoever, as if they were out for a leisurely 5k road run, when in fact we'd be running 7.5 miles of gnarly, isolated trail until the only aid station at the turnaround, and then the same thing on the way back. I can't imagine they were feeling too good after the first 4 miles or so. Anyway, once on the actual SHT (be careful how you read that), I realized quickly that I was going faster than I'd like, but couldn't quite get myself to slow down. I was running with the crowd and didn't want to be an obstacle for people to pass, so I figured that I just needed some time to warm up and calm down, which usually can take 20-30 minutes for me nowadays. Most people around me were still feeling chipper and were chatting along the way. I focused on running well at the beginning and staying as relaxed as possible, but the trail was both rolling and technical from the start, so I was constantly dodging rocks and roots, which became much easier after I was warmed up.

It wasn't until after the first 2 miles or so when I was finally in rhythm enough to start passing people with confidence. I got stuck behind a long line of guys on a rocky uphill, the last of whom was wearing NB Minimus Trails, so I figured I was in good company for the time being. Once at the top, I started making my way forward and eventually passed them. At this point, we had reached the top of Mystery Mountain, which then stretched out into about a mile of smooth downhill switchback. Most people were taking it slow down the hill, and I couldn't quite understand why, as it was easy trail and not so steep that one must focus too much, so I decided to make a big move and open 'er up. It was a little crazy passing people off trail in the tall grass, hoping that there was nothing hiding there to destroy my feet, but I must have passed 20 people or so in that section alone, cruising comfortably downhill, really using my hips to open up a comfortable yet extended gait, and it worked brilliantly. Along the way I passed the guy I saw at the start wearing huarache sandals. He was now totally barefoot! I gave him major props and continued cruising downhill. My experiment was successful and I felt great when I hit the bottom. I also managed to put myself into a gap between runners, so I could run comfortably at my own pace and not have to focus on the feet of the runner directly in front of me, which quite literally can be nauseating.

Photo Eve Stein

Still feeling good

After a while I caught up with the next group, which consisted mostly of women, one of whom I recognized. It was Jan Guenther, owner of Gear West Bike and Ski, and former women's Birkebeiner champion! If I'm not mistaken, she has also won the 25km once or twice for the women, so I knew that I was in decent standing at the moment. Several other women were wearing ski fanny packs, and it occurred to me that there must be a fair number of Nordic skiers who run trails in the off-season. In any case, it was at this point that we hit the climb up Moose Mountain, the steepest section of the whole race. There was at least one part where it was necessary to grab on to the trees to help get up the hill. I felt that although it was steep, the runners ahead weren't going fast enough, so I hopped up around a few of them and continued on, only to regret it a bit further up when I realized that it was a long climb and the bit of passing had cost me some energy. By the time we got to the top, they all took off and I was sucking wind in a slow jog for a few meters. Live and learn.

It's difficult for me to remember which sections of trail are where and in what order, but somewhere in here I took my first gel, at about 45 minutes. After a smoother section of trail at the top of Moose, the roots and rocks became more prominent, and I felt like I was dancing my way through the forest rather than running. It felt smooth and quick, however, and I don't feel like it slowed me down, at least not on the way out. At some point in this next section my right shoe felt loose, and I looked down to see that my timing chip was gone, just as I had predicted. It wasn't worth going back to look for it, so I continued on, not worrying if I would have an official time or not. By this time the 50k-ers began blowing by in the opposite direction on their way to the finish. Immediately I began looking for Sam, hoping that he was at least top five, and sure enough, as I stopped to retie my shoe, he ran by in 4th place looking decent, but with some tension in his face. More on that later.

Further on down the trail, there's a flatter section with plank walkways stretching across wet sections, making it a little awkward to deal with the opposing traffic. At one point on a slight downhill curve, a 50k-er came right through the middle and I nearly ran off the steep edge of the trail, plummeting to my doom.Thankfully I recovered with some flailing of arms and tiptoeing in the soft dirt along the edge, making sure from then on to find sure footing when others came by. (this section may have been later on after Rollins Creek, but I can't remember)

The descent down Moose Mountain was crazy, and I felt like I was stuck in a speeding car in San Francisco, heading down toward the ocean with no brakes. The trail was littered with big sharp rocks and gnarled roots, ready to devour the inattentive racer, and combined with the steepness it's enough to make one woozy. It was less stressing on the body to go fast, although keeping the eyes focused on the features of the trail at that speed was difficult, and a little scary. I wondered how long it could go on, hoping that my body would hold up and that I wouldn't catch a toe on a root or rock, throwing me down the mountain into what would probably be a bloody faceplant. Thankfully, I'm good at pushing those thoughts out of my head quickly and I remained focused until I finally reached the bottom, crossing the bridge at Rollins Creek, then heading into the last climb until the aid station. This is where I started feeling a little sluggish, especially now with a steady stream of both 50k-ers and 25k-ers heading back toward the finish. At one bend in the trail, I recognized a runner coming toward me. It was Grant Nelson, current Duluth resident with whom I skied at the U of MN quite a few years ago. Just as I remembered him, he was incredibly friendly as we passed each other, all while he was kicking ass (he came in 16th place overall).

Surely I must be close to the aid station, I thought. Down some wide steps and onto a wider gravel path, and sure enough, I hit the road into the Oberg Mountain AS. Anna's family were the first people I saw at the edge of the AS, taking photos and rooting me on. As I stopped at the food table, I checked my watch - 1:13:00! I was two minutes ahead of my highest goal! That was good, but I knew at that moment that I had run way too fast in the first half, and that the second half would be some serious work. A salted potato, some Heed, a Twizzler, and a refill of water and gels and I was off again in just three minutes, thanking the volunteer who helped me get that dang Camelbak open, as my hands were too sweaty to untwist the cap. Waving to Anna's family once again, I headed out, realizing only once I hit the trail that I had forgotten to suck the air out of the Camelbak as it sloshed around and bounced something fierce. I fixed the problem and took off.

It's not polite to blog with your mouth full.

Enter the long lonely climb of loneliness! Heading back up the steps was murderous. Not having digested my food yet, my body was not ready for such a steep and brutal climb. I checked my pulse, and even walking it was at 190! Uff. A 50k-er came up from behind me and passed me, only to stop a little way up the path to puke. I asked him if he needed anything, but he politely declined as he jumped in behind me for a while. Soon enough, however, he found his 2nd (3rd, 5th, 8th?) wind and took off.

The whole second half of the race is mostly a blur. I was by myself for the majority of the time, aside from meeting people in the opposite direction. Heading back down toward Rollins Creek I heard my name and looked up to see my lovely wife with a big smile on her face and moving swiftly. A quick high-five and some words exchanged and that was that. I was happy to have run in to her so soon after the AS, which meant that she was doing much better than she had originally planned. It also appeared that she had found a trail buddy who she was chatting up as I passed them. From then on it was a grind, and only vague memories of the trail. Surprisingly, it went rather quickly. Along one of the more rolling stretches, a woman caught up to me and we played the I-pass-you-you-pass-me game for a while, keeping each other in check. A guy friend of hers was running with her, but having some trouble and was further back. At one point when she was behind me, she started singing this song, which immediately started playing on the Brain iPod. I told her that I now had it in my head, and we agreed that it was a good song for pacing. Soon after that we reached the last major climb of the race, the climb up Mystery mountain and the switchbacks that treated me so well on the way out, but now decided to cash out on my karma points and grind me into pulp. I took another gel and tried to run as much as possible, but I must have walked 90% of it, even on the slight uphills. My heart was racing again, and the legs just wouldn't go. Whereas the previous four or five miles seemed to pass without notice, this stretch lasted for an eternity. Several runners passed me, most of whom I had passed well before the AS. What will I add to the training regime before the next race? Hills! 

Once down Mystery, the access trail seemed to jump out at me, and I couldn't believe I was almost out the woods (literally). I passed a few families goofing around on the access trail who cheered me on, and then it was out into the open. Pavement. Blip! My right hamstring shot out a quick threat of cramping, and then again, blip...the left calf. 

''Crap! I can't cramp now, I'm too close!'' 

With all of the focus I could muster, I concentrated on my form. Hips, abs, relaxed feet. Although the climbs on the way back were brutal, this was definitely the most painful part of the race. The road stretched on and on, and I felt slower with every step, until the glory that is the path to the finish appeared. I dipped down and around the pool and crossed the line. I quickly informed the timer that I had lost my chip, and he recorded my number and time. Done!

Anna's family met me at the finish and fetched me a beverage while I sat down in the shade and tried to avoid cramping. Final time - 2:42:51 in 64th place out of 291 runners. Despite the relative blow-up in the second half, I was pleased with my time.

Wandering through the crowd, I found Sam, shirtless and barefoot in fine Sam fashion. In discussing his race, he had led until mile 24, but due to an error with drop bags, his hydration pack did not show up at any of the aid stations, and he was forced to run the last 7 miles with only a water bottle, which he emptied quickly and spent the last 4 or 5 miles in less than stellar condition, thus the tense face when I saw him run by. Chalk it up to the unpredictable measures at races, and I'd say he still did awesome.  

After some post-race chili, I ran into Anna's friend from vet school and her boyfriend, and we chatted in the shade for a while, only to find out that Anna had just crossed the line! I ran over to meet her and we celebrated a successful race for both of us.

Post-race Celebrations included: several dips in the hot tub, beer, a delectable meal at the lodge restaurant, and more time in the hot tub. The next day provided more of the same, and it was then when I realized that I am a trail racer. I had no major soreness at all! All in all, it was a thoroughly successful weekend with great weather and immense fun. 

Overall this was an amazing experience. The weather was awesome, perhaps even too warm (70's and sunny), it was great to see Sam and race in the company of both him and my wife, and for a first experience on the SHT, I can say that I'm now hooked, on this trail and with this race series. I'm stoked for the fall and my first marathon!

To give you an idea of the course, here's the elevation chart. Not bad for a trail race in the Midwest.

If you're interested in the race series and want more info, check out the website - www.superiortrailraces.com

And now for the evaluation...

GRADES:

Fitness - B-

Despite the lack of running in the 3 weeks before the race, I was quite happy with what I accomplished, although I realized that I had trained way too much for the road race in April and not nearly enough hills and trails. Glute work and hills will definitely be part of the training regiment from here on out.

Mental Toughness - A-

Although I certainly hit some rough spots, I remained positive and determined throughout. I need to experiment more with my limits, however, to see if I could have run more of the parts I walked.

Pacing - C

The first half was definitely better than the second. I did, however, realize from the start that I was going too fast and would pay for it later. One can expect times to get slower as the race progresses, so perhaps it wasn't all bad that I had a quicker first half, but the splits show a drastic difference between first and second half. 

Hydration/Nutrition - B+

I was relatively disciplined with hydration and nutrition, keeping an eye on my watch to take gels, and remembering often to sip on the Camelbak. The only thing I missed toward the end would have been an S Cap, as I was retaining water and had a mild bit of ''sloshgut''. Had I just one S Cap, the threat of cramping also would not have occurred, so I shall invest in some for the next race. The fine-tuning will simply improve through more experience. I had never run this distance or terrain before, thus I'm happy with how I managed these issues with little experience.

Mechanics - A
I had no soreness the next day, and I managed to ward off the cramps at the finish through good form. There is always room for improvement, but on this day, I nailed it.