Barefoot Series: Part V - How I learned to go barefoot and love the forest

My foray into the world of barefoot running was not exactly straightforward. 

I like to think that I was gifted at running from a early age. I was a tall kid with long legs; a typical ectomorph build. Even though I was glued to my chair playing video games for a large portion of my childhood, I enjoyed giving 100% effort during gym class and the annual Terry Fox runs at school. As I grew older, my cardio was good but didn’t develop much beyond high school basketball and riding my longboard around town to buy snacks and smoke weed with my friends. One year during our annual Terry Fox run at school, our cross country coach saw my potential and recommended me to join the team, but I just wasn’t interested. Little did she know that she would plant a seed that would grow into a passion over time.

I mean I ran after school occasionally. Usually because I felt guilty that I ate too many cookies at lunchtime. It was only after growing out of my adolescence that I started to really have a vision of myself as an athlete. I needed to let go of my stoner identity and pursue what my intuition and heart was pointing me towards. I started running more, and over time I really began enjoying the process of pushing myself farther and faster. In the beginning there was a lot of trial and error. One of the ongoing issues I would experience was that my footwear was too small on one foot and I would get blisters. I was due for a new pair of shoes. Being already familiar with minimal shoes at the time, I was quite interested in giving them a shot. After trying on multiple pairs but failing to find the ‘perfect shoe’, I stumbled across Luna sandals at a running store called Distance Runwear in Vancouver. Wearing them provided a whole new level of freedom and increased sensory input. They began to change my life and running in profound ways.

High Knoll

I would get my first true taste of being barefoot in May 2016. One day I decided I would go for a walk in the woods after eating some psilocybin mushrooms. I packed my essentials in my backpack and I put on my sandals, which I had grown accustomed to, and embarked on what would become a beautiful trip. I slowly made my way to the top of a local hike. Having journeyed here many times before, this area was familiar to me. The sun was shining and I was comfortable, so it just made sense for me to take off my sandals and let my feet reconnect with the earth. The sunlit rocks were warm and inviting, and the varying textures of the ground beneath me provided me with a sense of stimulation I didn’t know I needed. After a brief meditation I was ready to make my way back home, the difference was I decided not to put my sandals back on and proceeded to hike the rest of the way down in my bare feet.

Luna Sandals - Oso Flaco

On my return journey I needed to slow down because the trail was littered with rocks and roots. As I placed each foot one after another with careful precision, I began to form a dialogue with the ground. I was the student, and the pathway of communication between the forest floor and my nervous system became my teacher. Traversing the path became a form of yoga. I was highly focused but at the same time it was as if I had unlocked an innate potential for effortless movement. The sensation of each step imparted me with wisdom; about my own body, about my place in nature, about my place as a human being experiencing the ongoing evolution of the cosmos. There was a sense of truth in going slowly, in letting go of any fear I had. I began to love the forest, and to feel at home. I was present, and that felt familiar and safe.

Following this experience I gained a new confidence in my feet and started running around the block barefoot. Soon my 1 kilometer runs developed into 3 kilometer runs, and then into 5 kilometers and so on. Over the seasons I developed my barefoot running and ‘found my sole’. I can now run over 10 kilometers at a time barefoot without any pain or blisters. I learned so much by just trusting my own body. I make sure that I revisit that trail annually to experience the pure joy and wisdom that I experienced 2 years ago.