Honestly, I didn’t run much for a couple of weeks. The weather was a convenient excuse, but partly, I was still walking around with a lot of frustration and uncertainty. Whenever I ran, since this whole project began, it was as though every leg muscle was being used for the first time. I felt like I had been asked to slip into toe shoes and dance Swan Lake. The mechanics and motor patterns were so different than my old way of running that it was as foreign as ballet. I hated being slow, I hated feeling so damn muscle-fatigued, and I hated thinking about every single step!
Finally, my daughter Lena asked me to run with her one day, and I happily agreed. We enjoy running together, but her school and work schedule rarely coincides with mine these days. I knew I could not keep up with her in bare feet or Vibrams, so reluctantly I put on my regular highly-structured running shoes. Even though I thought I was backtracking, I really wanted to just run, without the learning-curve baggage. Beside, I was curious as to what the forefoot-running would be like in Mizunos. Off we went. I did my best to keep from heel striking and my pace was decent for a change. Lena always pushes me. The cushioning was very comfortable, on par with curling up in a feather bed. But I definitely was removed from the ground I was covering. Kind of like driving a Town Car after driving my RAV 4. Going downhill required great effort not to sling my legs out in front of me and slam those heels down. As I tired, it was harder and harder not to revert to the old heel-first. I knew it wasn’t going to help me, but it was so easy to do. I could have fun, cover ground, and run with my kid. Did I really want to go through all that pain and aggravation just to test some weirdos’ theories?