Last Sunday I tried to go way too far, way too soon, barefoot. I attempted back to back demanding workouts thinking I could do it because they were different sports and different muscle groups. My workout goals were fueled by pride and ego, two driving forces that have the ability to override common sense making the decision process anything but rational. The result was pain, suffering and damaged pride. Ouch! On Friday, I did a loop to the tower and then, feeling ok, I did the Bishop loop and headed back home. On Bishop, I saw Dr. Mike walking not one, but three dogs. Man that sounds like more work than running barefoot marathons. Again, I stayed on streets and off sidewalks as much as possible. I reached my BF capacity at Kellar School. Not being able to run any further on the chip seal, I stepped into the grass. It was all over. My pace fell WAY off and I jog walked my way home. My feet were shot. It felt like the soles were sunburned but I'd just taken so much surface down they were sore. Total mileage, 9.67.
Saturday, my feet still feeling sensitive, I did the Escape from Alcatraz 18 mile bike course on Shev's Computrainer and finished the workout with a 20 minute tempo run in monkey feet. The bike course is really tough. It's an out and back in San Fran and the hills max at 15% incline. It was a big mistake in hindsite. I was physically shredded afterwards. On Sunday, I still felt crappy. I prepped the gatorade for the Keller hydration stop and headed to the tower. I didn't have a good day and I sensed it was going to go that way from the get go. Although I hoped to do 16 miles barefoot, I only managed to run 3 before my feet hurt so bad I put my monkey feet on. After that, I stupidly had designs on just doing a nice easy 18. By the time I got to Heading ave, I started to feel beaten and concerned about how to get home. I don't know exactly what went wrong but every now and then you have one of these workouts. It was hell. I walked back to Running Central and (YEP) caught a cab back home. I was totally defeated. I'm still dragging as I type this. Whew. I guess without the lows, you don't know what it means to be high. I'm trying to be as honest about this whole experiment as I can but today was one of those days when I couldn't hardly stand the thought of running barefoot and just wanted to toss the whole idea and put some shoes on. I'm committed however, so here you go. An ugly barefoot post.
Around Christmas we start seeing the commercials for that end with the jingle: Every Kiss Begins With Kays!
The national jewelry chain Kays would like us guys to think every kiss begins with them. In reality, the marketing message is get your woman jewelry and you'll get some action. I say, if you have to pay for it, you don't have a girlfiend, you have a call girl. Granted, you might have one loyal woman that likes you "in general" but your still payin for sex dude. Matt points out in reality far more kisses begin with Bud-Lite than with jewelry from Kays. It's cheaper and much more effective. Were my wife a whore (shes not), I'd be much more likely to get action out of her with a set of race wheels than from a necklace (she actually told me that herself). The problem with this strategy is that even were it to be effective, after she uses them shes gonna be way too pooped for me.
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