15,000 Miles Barefoot

Working in a bank a few years back, I saw that everything important was documented, allowing auditors to review decisions for compliance with policies and procedures.  Which begged the question — why wasn’t I documenting the important things in my life?

So, I opened a spreadsheet in Excel and created a training log.  The first entry dates back to February 15, 2013.  Evidently I ran 9 miles, although there is no indication of where or why or how it went.

Back then business travel took me to Florida from time to time, and I’d sometimes take advantage of a nearby beach to run barefoot – just for the novelty.  On July 10, 2013, I ran 5 miles barefoot on Vero Beach.  The following February, I ran 6 miles in Boca Raton.  The hard-packed sand felt frigid underfoot.

I don’t remember when I read Born to Run, but Chris MacDougall’s warning that shoes predispose us to injury struck a nerve.  Since I was struggling with running-related injuries at the time, I decided to conduct an experiment, although instead of running, I decided to try a barefoot hike.  On August 25, 2015, while on vacation in the Italian Alps, I walked up a nearby ski slope, and what I remember most was how the cows stared at me in wonder, as if they’d never seen a human without shoes before.  Two weeks later, back home in New York, I repeated the experiment on Peekamoose Mountain in the Catskills.

And then I went off the deep end.

Roughly one year later, I reached my 1,000th mile of barefoot training, comprised of running, hiking, and walking.  Speaking of documentation, this quirky accomplishment inspired me to write up a blog post in which I explained that barefoot running had been an “interesting experiment” based on the “calculated bet” that more natural form would prolong my useful running life.  I admitted to some surprise at the feeling of light-footedness, the exhilaration, the sense of a more direct connection with nature.  Even so, I had no idea where this odd journey was going to take me.

When I reached my 2,000th barefoot mile, I published a second blog post, and thereafter it became a habit upon reaching the next thousand-mile-marker to write about what I’d done and learned.  On June 22, 2025, I reached my 14,000th mile but skipped the report as I was busy — so here is my latest update, with the barefoot odometer now at 15,000 miles. Continue reading “15,000 Miles Barefoot”

15,000 Miles Barefoot

Winds

It was a cool morning in early November.  I was following a ridgeline in Harriman State Park, moving through open forest and across grassy knolls, sauntering easy and cheerful as the morning sun set the oak forest glowing in colors of tawny ocher and burnt orange — when suddenly the wind picked up.  It rolled in from the west without warning, jostled treetops, roared like a jet plane.  I zipped my jacket tighter, recognizing in the rough gusts the angry sound of winter.

That evening, I was chatting with my friend Stash Rusin, who’d recently climbed Cornell Mountain in the Catskills on a cold fall day, the sky overcast, the ground at elevation already dusted with snow as light as sugar frosting, although surprisingly no ice.  From the summit, he looked south, but a squall had pushed into the valley and blocked the mountain views.  He made his way through the woods to the north side of the summit and found himself in the middle of a maelstrom.  “The winds were 30-40-50 mph,” he recalled.  They made him feel “so excited – so alive.” Continue reading “Winds”

Winds

Black Leopard Padding through Tall Grass

I returned from a barefoot hike in Harriman State Park with the distinct impression that a black leopard was following me.

I shared this thought with Arif and Sabeen at a recent birthday party.  Swirling the ice cubes in her limeade drink, Sabeen reminded me that her spirit animal is the chipmunk, while Arif’s is the sea otter, although she added he is very partial to their house cat. Continue reading “Black Leopard Padding through Tall Grass”

Black Leopard Padding through Tall Grass