Most of the readers of this blog have probably attended an “Expo” preceeding a race. Typically, Expos are held in a large room where vendors of various kinds of running-related wares display their products, hoping to make sales or at least gather leads for future sales. Usually the larger the race the larger the Expo. I recently ran the Philadelphia Rock and Roll Half Marathon. There were 21,000 runners. The Expo was held in the Philadelphia Convention Center. It was huge.

Running Expos are very similar to trade shows in other industries. Over the years my job has required me to participate in numerous capacities at trade shows in my field (transportation technology). I’ve setup and broken down booths, staffed booths, or just attended in order to learn about the latest “stuff”. Typically vendors have something to giveaway, or a contest, or some other gimmick designed to make sales, develop leads, or just make a “splash”.  Giveaways can be just about anything from pens to stuffed animals to USB sticks to coasters to mugs.

When my kids were younger they liked it when I went to a trade show because I typically came home with various giveaway items.  After awhile my wife and I dubbed these items “treasures” because they had nominal value but made great little gifts/toys for the children.

So where am I going with this you ask.

Recently, there was a small Expo (and a lot more) in conjunction with the NYC Barefoot Run.  The Expo was held at the South Street Seaport.  There were vendors of minimalist shoes (note I didn’t say “barefoot running shoes”;  the subject of a coming rant) and toe socks.  There were authors of many of the popular books on barefoot running, including McDougall, Howell, Barefoot Ken Bob, and Michael Sandler.  There were even vendors for wine and beer.  I said hello to the authors and grabbed a few items like refrigerator magnets, etc.  I entered a contest or two.  But the table that I really wanted to visit was the Merrell table.  The reason was that I have been reading about one of the shoes in their upcoming new lineup, the Road Glove.  I’ve read some really good reviews about this model but I didn’t know when they were going to be available.  I was hoping it was soon because I’m looking for something to wear this Winter when barefooting isn’t possible.

Unfortunately the Road Glove won’t be out until Spring.  So unless a pair drops out of the sky I’m out of luck.

But all was not lost.  The nice lady at the Merrell table was giving out free “running metronomes”.  The purpose of the metronomes  is to give an audible beat at a selectable rate, or cadence.  Much of the literature about running form suggests that running at a fairly high cadence, around 180, improves running efficiency and makes it easier to run “lightly”.

I’ve used a number of cadence tools over the last couple years.  I have a couple of iPhone apps that play songs from my iTunes music collection that have a beat close to 180.  This is nice but it requires that I take my iPhone and earphones on the road.  The Merrell metronome is MUCH simpler.

Once you turn the metronome on you can select the cadence you desire.  The sound is a chirp, the volume of which can be controlled.

There is also a phone jack so you can practice stealth cadence listening. 

The bottom of the unit is a clip making it easy to attach to the collar of your shirt, close to your ear.

And if all of this isn’t enough, this little diddy has another feature that I now put to good use.  It has a “beat” function.  This function changes the chirp sound after a selectable number of counts.  I use this feature to practice my breathing cadence.  I usually breath with a 3-2 pattern, three strides inhale, two strides exhale.  Thus, I set the beat to 5 and then I know that I should start the breathing cycle whenever the special chirp comes around.  I’ve taken this little “treasure” out on all my runs since the NYC event and I really like it a lot.  I’ve been much more successful at maintaining a constant cadence and breathing pattern.  Not surprisingly, on a 5-miler earlier this week all 5 mile splits were within 2 seconds of each other.

I haven’t been happier about something free in quite a while.  Thank you Merrell!

So while I’m still going to be looking for a shoe to try during the Winter months here in the Northeast at least I’ll have a good way to keep whatever shoe I find moving at the correct cadence.

I put together a video/slideshow of the NYC Barefoot Run.  Hope you enjoy it!

A few weeks ago I had an idea for a t-shirt.  When I’m out running barefoot I get a lot of questions.  So I thought I’d create a t-shirt that anticipates some of those questions and gives the answers.  I went to cafepress.com and made a shirt.  It came about a week ago so I figured I’d wear it to the 2nd Annual New York City Barefoot Run, which was held this weekend.  (I’ll be posting about the NYC Run in a day or two.  I have some good photos and video to show you guys).

Anyway, the shirt was a big hit!  I had people complimenting me the whole weekend.  A number of people asked how they could get one.  I had no plans to make the shirts something I would sell but with the reaction I figured I’d put them up on Cafe Press.  If you’re interested you can find the shirt here.  If anyone is interested in other styles of shirt just let me know in the comments and I’d be happy to add them.

(Originally posted at the Run Smiley Collective)

A three-way conversation in my head during a run early this week:

Me: This should be fun. It’s not as hot as last week.

through the revolving door and down the steps in lower Manhattan…

Me: Ugh, its still humid.
Smiley Angel: Oh come on, this’ll be fun anyway. Just take it easy. Enjoy the morning! You’re bound to see something interesting or beautiful.
Me: You’re right. I’ll make this a SSS. Short, Slow, Sweet.
The “Other Angel”: Yeah right. Every time you say that you end up turning it into negative splits at tempo speeds. But nothing wrong with that. Who cares?
Me: No, I have a big meeting later today so I really should take it easy and slow.

reaching to push start on my Garmin…

The “Other Angel”: Good job, let’s get to it!
Smiley Angel: Now what would your friends in the Collective think? You should have left that thing home today.
Me: I’m not going to look at it during the run. I just want to log the miles. You know, the 10% rule and all.
Smiley Angel: Uh huh…. Well, why don’t you make an effort to really sense your surroundings. Try to notice things you’ve never seen here before. Maybe strike up a conversation with someone.
The “Other Angel”: Yeah, I’m sure there are plenty of friendly people out here this morning…. NOT

past the Staten Island Ferry Terminal, entering Battery Park. Around the corner and then headed North along the path. Passing some older men with about a dozen fishing poles in the Hudson River…

Me: I wonder if they know that there was a fire at the sewage treatment plant a couple miles upriver and the water is off limits.
Smiley Angel: Smile and say hi!
Me: “Good morning guys”
Fishermen: (something about no zapatos, not directed at me)
The “Other Angel”: I bet they catch a lot of fish today. The fish probably want to get OUT of the water.

settling into an easy pace…

Me: OK, check out the form. Light steps. Midfoot. Think Groucho. Is the cadence fast enough? Probably not. OK, shorter strides. Don’t lean forward you dope.
The “Other Angel”: Yeah, you dope. You’re not breathing correctly either. Where’s the 3-2 pattern? No, that’s 2-2. Slow it down. Concentrate.
Smiley Angel: Look at all the runners out this morning. Probably because of the cooler weather and it’s Monday. The Monday guilt after the weekend festivities. Make sure you say hi. Smile. Be friendly.
The “Other Angel”: Friendly? Ha! These are New Yorkers!

a 20-something guy in $250 shoes glides by at about 5:50 pace…

across the plaza next to the World Financial Center… passing a group of middle-aged women runners…

Me: “good morning ladies”
Smiley Angel: Good job!
One lady: “morning”
Other ladies, quietly to each other: “no shoes… crazy… I could never…. in NYC?”

2 mile mark, approaching a decision point…..

turning out onto the pier….

reaching the end of the pier where a few people are doing Tai Chi. Standing at the railing…

headed back at a medium pace… I notice a runner with Vibram Five Fingers running the other way

past the little area where the million dollar yachts are parked, then further South, through the plaza, and then shaded “boardwalk”, as a senior lady runner approaches going the other way…

past Fort Clinton and the launching point for the Statue of Liberty tour boats…. then past the war memorial…

rounding the final corner….. waving to the (former marine) guard at the gate to the Coast Guard station…

walking past the Ferry Terminal, dozens of people looking at my feet as I cross the street and reach the entrance to the gym.

through the doorway into the locker room….

I came across this poem today and really enjoyed it.  Hope you do too.  I’m still a barefoot boy at 52!

The Barefoot Boy
By   John Greenleaf Whittier

Blessings on thee, little man,
Barefoot boy, with cheek of tan!
With thy turned-up pantaloons,
And thy merry whistled tunes;
With thy red lip, redder still
Kissed by strawberries on the hill;
With the sunshine on thy face,
Through thy torn brim’s jaunty grace;
From my heart I give thee joy, -
I was once a barefoot boy!
Prince thou art, – the grown-up man
Only is republican.
Let the million-dollared ride!
Barefoot, trudging at his side,
Thou hast more than he can buy
In the reach of ear and eye, -
Outward sunshine, inward joy:
Blessings on thee, barefoot boy

Oh for boyhood’s painless play,
Sleep that wakes in laughing day,
Health that mocks the doctor’s rules,
Knowledge never learned of schools,
Of the wild bee’s morning chase,
Of the wild-flower’s time and place,
Flight of fowl and habitude
Of the tenants of the wood;
How the tortoise bears his shell,
How the woodchuck digs his cell,
And the ground-mole sinks his well;
How the robin feeds her young,
How the oriole’s nest is hung;
Where the whitest lilies blow,
Where the freshest berries grow,
Where the ground-nut trails its vine,
Where the wood-grape’s clusters shine;
Of the black wasp’s cunning way,
Mason of his walls of clay,
And the architectural plans
Of gray hornet artisans!
For, eschewing books and tasks,
Nature answers all he asks;
Hand in hand with her he walks,
Face to face with her he talks,
Part and parcel of her joy, -
Blessings on the barefoot boy!

Oh for boyhood’s time of June,
Crowding years in one brief moon,
When all things I heard or saw,
Me, their master, waited for.
I was rich in flowers and trees,
Humming-birds and honey-bees;
For my sport the squirrel played,
Plied the snouted mole his spade;
For my taste the blackberry cone
Purpled over hedge and stone;
Laughed the brook for my delight
Through the day and through the night,
Whispering at the garden wall,
Talked with me from fall to fall;
Mine the sand-rimmed pickerel pond,
Mine the walnut slopes beyond,
Mine, on bending orchard trees,
Apples of Hesperides!
Still as my horizon grew,
Larger grew my riches too;
All the world I saw or knew
Seemed a complex Chinese toy,
Fashioned for a barefoot boy!

Oh for festal dainties spread,
Like my bowl of milk and bread;
Pewter spoon and bowl of wood,
On the door-stone, gray and rude!
O’er me, like a regal tent,
Cloudy-ribbed, the sunset bent,
Purple-curtained, fringed with gold,
Looped in many a wind-swung fold;
While for music came the play
Of the pied frogs’ orchestra;
And, to light the noisy choir,
Lit the fly his lamp of fire.
I was monarch: pomp and joy
Waited on the barefoot boy!

Cheerily, then, my little man,
Live and laugh, as boyhood can!
Though the flinty slopes be hard,
Stubble-speared the new-mown sward,
Every morn shall lead thee through
Fresh baptisms of the dew;
Every evening from thy feet
Shall the cool wind kiss the heat:
All too soon these feet must hide
In the prison cells of pride,
Lose the freedom of the sod,
Like a colt’s for work be shod,
Made to tread the mills of toil,
Up and down in ceaseless moil:
Happy if their track be found
Never on forbidden ground;
Happy if they sink not in
Quick and treacherous sands of sin.
Ah! that thou couldst know thy joy,
Ere it passes, barefoot boy!

http://www.capflyer.com/article/20110624/NEWS09/706249903/experts-teach-airmen-to-run-injury-free

Includes a Doc who is BFR favorable and does it himself.

http://www2.nbc4i.com/news/2011/jun/21/barefoot-running-39545-vi-29790/

(This was cross-posted at the Run Smiley Collective.)

This last week my sister came to visit from California. She still lives in the San Diego area where we grew up. She has only been out here (NY/NJ) twice in the 20 years since I moved east. So this was a big deal.

I took the week off from work. We took her to see “Jersey Boys” on Broadway. And the “Top of the Rock” (top of the Rockefeller Building).

And Times Square. And the Statue of Liberty. And Ellis Island. And rode the subways. And Buses. And Boats. And Trains. And even a pedicab down Broadway during rush hour traffic. (And lived to tell about it)

We ate out a lot. Sardy’s. Cracker Barrel. Starbucks. Even the Peanut Butter Company, which is a little place in Greenwich Village that has great PB&J sandwiches, among other “light” fare. My sister LOVES PB so we had to go there. Had to.

Anyway, I could go on and on about the week. I also found a little time to whip the garden into shape. And stay up late to talk and play games and generally NOT be at or think about work. Everyone had a great time.

But. I. Only. Ran. Once.

Between the heat, rain, long days in Manhattan, and all of the family fellowship time, I only headed out for a 4 ¼ mile jaunt. I also walked the same route with my sis but that didn’t count.

So I can’t wait to get back out there! I will figure out a way to get a run in tomorrow somehow no matter what. The weather forecast is good so it looks like I’ll have a number of options, either in Manhattan or here in Jersey.

Why the excitement?

Are you kidding me?

The feel of my feet on all of the various surfaces. Warm. Cold. Rough. Smooth. Wet. Muddy.

The alive feeling of my heart rate consistently within 20 percent of max.

The moment that I first break a sweat and feel the evaporative cooling kick in.

Synchronizing my breaths with my cadence. Three steps in. Two steps out.

Enjoying the looks on people’s faces as I cruise by. Or go by them silently, sometimes inadvertently startling them.

Not knowing how far I’ll end up going, leaving it up to how I’m feeling.

Stepping on a pebble and quickly shifting my weight to minimize the impact. Marveling at the sensory functions built into this thing called my body.

Getting rid of that I-feel-lousy-and-lazy-and-know-I’d-feel-better-after-a-run feeling that starts two days after the last run.

Knowing that I’m doing something that is good for me, makes me happy, and therefore makes me easier to work with and live with.

Boy have I missed it. Stay tuned for a report on all the running goodness…

Well, all of you in my vast audience out there (all 3 or 4 of you) know I’ve been AWOL since about January.  I’ve been healthy, and running, and happy.  Just not inspired to write and really busy at work.

But something last week got me back in the saddle.  The Run Smiley Collective:

I won’t go into how the Collective started.  Its a great story that involves another blogger, Chris Mcdougal (“Born to Run” fame), and an eclectic group of like-minded running bloggers who talk about how running for them is more about fun, and joy, and laughter than it is about numbers, and PRs, etc.  To learn more click on the Collective Logo above.

Anyway,  I became a member of the Collective yesterday by publishing the following post on their site:

Last week, as I made preparations to run my first barefoot 10K, I coincidentally followed the formation of the Run Smiley Collective.

I’m 52, and have been running since high school. Running, with the exception of a few years when my kids were young, has always been part of my life. Why? Well, not because I’m fast. I never made the varsity cross country team. JV was my lot. Maybe to lose weight? Hardly. When I run more I tend to eat more, continuing to carry around about 5-7 pounds more than I’d like. For health reasons? Well, yes, but there are plenty of other activities I enjoy that keep me fit. For camaraderie? Nope, I almost always run alone, although I do enjoy the spectacle of organized races.

In short, I don’t think I’ve ever really completely answered that question for myself. Why DO I run?

So last week I did all the things I normally do before a race. Watched what I ate. Drank extra fluids. Gentle stretches. Tried to get enough sleep. Reviewed the race website about the course, the anticipated weather, parking access, etc. I charged up my Garmin GPS watch. I went on Saturday to pick up my number and t-shirt. I reviewed my previous 10K times. I got out two rubber bands to put around my ankle to hold the D-Tag timing chip (two in case one broke). My 10K PR was about 5 years ago. Since I was running this one barefoot I didn’t have any illusions that I’d come close to the PR, but hey, you never know…….

But as the race came closer, and I read and re-read the Run Smiley posts, I began to see this race, and perhaps all future races, and runs for that matter, differently.

I am generally a very happy, contented person. But it often doesn’t show on the outside. My parents used to tell (over and over again….) a story about taking me to an amusement park when I was little. After I rode the roller coaster they said I looked sad and asked me why I didn’t like it. I deadpanned back that I loved it, and rode it many more times that day, loving it each time.

For whatever reason, I’m not a smiley person. But as I thought about the Collective, I realized that running is one of the things in my life that I really should smile about. There are very few other activities I enjoy as much. It’s hard to find the right words. It’s fun. It’s exhilarating. It’s freeing. It makes me feel more alive. It reduces stress. It’s cheap (especially now that I run barefoot). The list goes on and on.

And most importantly, all of those things are true, whether I’m doing 6 miles at 9 minute pace, or a Sunday afternoon LSD at 11 minute pace, or ¼ mile repeats at 7 minute pace. It also doesn’t matter whether I’m running near my home in Jersey or in Lower Manhattan during lunch. And it doesn’t matter whether I’m the only person for miles or I’m one of 4,000 runners in race.

So like the other members of the Collective, I came to realize in a new way that racing, numbers, PRs, and the like are not bad in and of themselves, but they pale in comparison to the pure joy of just simply putting a smile on your face and moving down the road. Or trail. Or track. Or even, gasp, the dreadmill.

So when the gun went off Monday morning and I crossed the starting line you can bet there was a smile on my face. And while I’m sure that smile wasn’t there the whole 6.2 miles, I was certainly smiling on the inside the whole way, and when I finished, a full four minutes slower than my PR. I enjoyed this race perhaps more than any other. I laughed when a volunteer at a water station saw me and joked: “no shoes, no service”. I slowed to chat briefly with a wheelchair athlete that had been sidelined by a flat tire. I chatted with other runners that asked me about my unshod feet. And I even noticed a spectator that I hadn’t seen in about 10 years and said hello with a big smile, twice (once per loop). During most races I don’t even notice the spectators at all.

While I was running the race one thought that crossed my mind was that members of the Collective should be called something. I thought of two candidate terms:

“Smilers” – Get it? Mile? With an S and rs? Oh never mind….

“Funners” – I know, pretty cheesy. But true.

Anyway, as a member of the Run Smiley Alliance I will do my best to be a worthy ambassador to the running world. I’ll do it with the best outside smile I can find and always with an inner joy regardless of the situation. I’ll report back here and on my blog Downtown Runner.