I operate more instinctively, which is not to say that I’m a risk taker. My instincts are just as likely to say that looks like a good way to break a bone as it is to say that could be kind of cool.
I have decided that it is time for me to stop eating like a 12-year-old. He has decided that man was not intended to wear shoes, even while running.
I’m working with a wellness coach who has me eating quinoa, juicing and cutting down on my unhealthy coffee habit. I have no data. I haven’t asked for any. When my coach talks about her approach to food, I think to myself I want to feel like that.
My husband runs though our neighborhood at 4:30 a.m. in bare feet with a lamp on his head. He’s been tracking his pace while altering his stride. He now runs as fast as he did when he was twenty. I think to myself I want to feel like that, only with shoes and not at 4:30 a.m.
I don’t expect that any amount of data will get me to run without shoes on. I’ve broken two toes in barefoot freak accidents (I mean really, who breaks a toe tripping over their own Teva), and saw my best friend step on a nail in bare feet when I was ten. Both have scarred me irrevocably. DSW just sent me a $50 discount certificate, and I swear it’s because they were afraid I might be thinking about it. I think they have nothing to worry about, and that I have some shopping to do.
Last night I asked my husband for a tea kettle for Christmas so I wouldn’t have to microwave my water anymore. He sighed. I have no data, I just want to honor the tea. I want to feel like that. The tea kettle is $15. It’s a lot cheaper than the juicer. I suspect I ought to start getting my data ready for that one.
Interestingly, barefoot running requires special “non shoes” for winter. Frostbite and all that. I’ll put it on his list. Ironically, it’s a spreadsheet.
Words by J. B. Everett