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When I was young I wasn’t into buying shoes much. Shoes were things I kept growing out of and needed to be polished. They were purchased at stores that sold nothing but shoes, shoelaces, and shoe horns. A shoe horn was a smooth metal thing used to make shoes easier to slip on. You were pretty much on your own getting them off. They still sell shoe horns to people like me, who have a hard time bending over to put on shoes. Me, I won’t buy one, not yet anyway. If I stop using my bending over muscles I might lose them sooner.
Shoes were mainly made of leather. Before you tried on a pair a salesperson would personally measure your feet with a metal plate-like thing shaped like either a right or a left foot. There was a piece on the plate that would slide to line up with that bone that sticks out of the inside of your foot towards the toes. It was important to get the width of the foot at its widest point correct.
Later some stores even got x-ray machines to try and get more precise measurements. I think now the whole measurement thing was mostly a scam. Usually, there were no shoes available in my size, so I had to settle for something close. Even stiff leather shoes in my size were very uncomfortable. They were part of the discomfort of going to church. I used to think tight shoes and neckties were punishment enough for my sins. I didn’t see why I had to sit through a sermon too. I wasn’t that bad of a kid.
The shoes I loved were called sneakers or tennis shoes. They were made of canvas and had a thin rubber sole. I thought that the brand, “Keds” were the best. PF Flyers were good too. Converse was also in the running. Converse made a comeback. In those days Converse only came in black.
There was a certain “happy feet” thrill in putting on a new pair of sneakers. My father gave me dire warnings about sneaker wearing leading to “flat feet” due to lack of proper arch support. He spared me accounts as to how well his feet held up slogging through the jungles of Okinawa during World War II.
I remember going for flat feet testing in elementary school. The school nurse had us step into something wet and then on to paper. It turned out I did have “flat feet.” I still kept wearing sneakers when I was allowed to. I also did the exercise the school nurse recommended of grasping a pencil with my toes. It didn’t help much.
I heard later about men being shut out of military service because of having “flat feet.” Weak arches are a liability on long marches. The Selective Service draft ended before my college exemption did, so I never found out if my feet would have failed me.
When I grew up and discovered recreational running I fell in love with lightweight shoes all over again.
When I was in high school running was done with cross country metal spikes. Training for racing with spikes was done with flat rubber soled shoes. When running coach, Bill Bowerman started making the soles with a waffle iron, he discovered that he was on to something. He was on to founding the shoe company called Nike. The Nike logo now adorns everything wearable and has become one of the most recognized brand name logos in the World. It is not in the same category as that creepy eye in the pyramid thing, on the US dollar bill, because few people believe they know what that stands for.
Bowerman wanted to see if a better shoe could enhance the performance of his star long-distance runner Phil Knight. It did. Some might consider this to be cheating. To those who make the rules, it wasn’t.
Like any new popular product, Nike shoes became a symbol that differentiated the “haves” from the “have-nots.” The race did not always go to the swiftest because the swiftest could afford Nike shoes, it is just the case that those with the better equipment have an edge.
With the help of one basketball star Michael Jordon, Nike Shoes became such a status symbol that they became something to kill and risk dying for in some neighborhoods.
With other brands jumping in athletic shoes began appearing in styles and colors too numerous to keep track of and designed for running surfaces of all types. I don’t know if a shoe designed to perform well when striding into dog poop is available yet, but if not, somebody is probably working on it.
I really got into shoes when I discovered that I was an overpronator and fortunately there were shoes for that. Many guys with flat feet have too much ankle rolling going on. What joy to have more stability in my favorite past time, in the form of a shoe.
I used to love running in road races. Mostly 10ks. Four marathons finishes qualify me, at least in my own mind as being a man with a history as a runner. To improve my performance training harder and smarter was the way to go. Going to the shoe store or to the shoe catalog was more fun.
With non-athletic shoes, I used to wear them until my feet outgrew them as a kid or until holes appeared in their soles as an adult. Running shoes were different. A scuff mark or any sign of wear got me to thinking that it might be time for a new pair.
Right up there with the feeling of relief in crossing a finish line, is the thrill of finding the perfect running shoe fit. This “happy feet” feeling would last me up to twenty minutes and leave me looking forward to the next time I could feel justified to try on another pair of running shoes.
It is more recently that the running shoe industry has discovered that less shoe can be more. There is even strong suggestion that the best shoe is no shoe and no socks either. It seems likely that the best design for running could be the foot as is, as long as the surface is natural. Other than running barefoot on the beach, (it doesn’t get much better than that), I don’t have much running shoeless experience since my children grew up.
In my trail annoying days, I used to be amazed at how my body knew how to step around rocks and navigate pitches without conscious effort or training. Many missteps that in my mind were going to lead to hard falls, were averted by reflexes I didn’t know that I had.
One time I was sure I was going to go face down when my arms started spinning in a windmill motion like a cartoon character. Transformed into a human gyroscope I went nowhere, but upright again. What was that all about I wondered.
I never took it to the step of Clint Ober, (see “The Science of Grounding”) and native peoples throughout the world of striving to get more grounded by getting bare feet on bare soil on a regular basis. The case for doing so is well made by Ober.
I fear that the rootless feelings many men have today are to do what has come between feet and earth, lungs and breath. We lack grounding form the artificial electromagnetic fields from sources known and mysterious that surround us. We have allowed much of the planet to be paved and sprayed with toxic substances. Layers of synthetic materials line are feet just about everywhere we go.
On the beach, we must dodge plastic trash and worse nearly everywhere we walk. We usually must travel miles sitting down to get there or anywhere where we can walk or run barefoot with ease.
Since developing Parkinson Disease, I favor a stationary bike in a crowded gym over running on a road or a flat and well-graded trail. I miss the running a great deal. It helped me feel more grounded than I usually feel and closer to the earth than I normally get.
The plastic heaps just keep getting higher, with no amount of recycling looking like a solution. More and more ground paving is going on. More and more athletic wear is worn primarily to look good in and avoid sweating in it.
For me, joy is in the spiritual realm. It is difficult to imagine how I might get a pass on the disrespectful way that I have gone along with those who believe that man can invent better ways to move about the Earth, than its creator. Sure I’m running scared. I think that is better than ignoring the awful error of my ways.
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