Demystifying Barefoot and Minimalist Footwear

There’s a lot of buzz around the running world as of late, specifically in regards to footwear, or lack of it.  I know this may seem a little after the ship has sailed, but instead of touting the benefits of Barefoot Running, or telling you why your current running shoes are killing your body (all of this seems to be unproven still) I thought I would demystify the footwear instead.  What makes a shoe “Barefoot” or “Minimalist” and what’s it doing to the way you run?

A traditional running shoe is constructed in a way that creates a forward leaning slop with your heel elevated above the ball of your foot, or forefoot.  What do you put in all this extra room between your foot and the road?  Cushioning, of course.  The average amount of cushioning for a traditional road running shoe is 22-24 millimeters in the heel and 12-14 mm in the forefoot.  This creates a slope, or “drop” of about 10-12 mm from the heel to your toes.  The mindset here is that this extra cushioning will protect and reduce stress on your Achilles tendon.  What it also does is create large wedge at the back of the shoe that will inevitably hit the pavement first.  This is known as a heel stirke.  Whether this is good or bad for running is the topic of much debate…I’ll let you decide for yourself. 

A traditional Asics Running shoe complete with cushioning and a large forefoot drop.

When you start trimming and cutting things off a traditional road shoe, you start to enter the world of Minimalist running.  The drop from heel to forefoot here is in the 2-8mm range.  The first time you try on a shoe like this you may feel like you’re leaning backwards a bit and according to your body’s perception of footwear, you’d be right.  Now that your heel sitting closer to the ground the chances that your mid-foot or fore-foot will hit the ground first is much more likely as that wedge of cushion has been removed.   See the afore mentioned debate and decide for yourself.

An example of a minimalist running shoe by Saucony.

It’s not just the drop that is reduced in a minimalist shoe.  Usually, any excess material is removed to create not only a lighter shoe, but one where you can feel the road more intimately.  This also means incorporating a very flexible sole that doesn’t restrict or bind your foot from moving any other way than the way it wants to or the way the ground directs it.  Most minimalist shoes appear to be more akin to slippers then any form of running shoe, but with enough flashy striping and athletic inspired color ways, you usually get the drift that these are still for running.

Moving on to true Barefoot running one would think you may not even need a shoe, right?  Well, purists would say, no, but the fact is our feet have been coddled by cushioned shoes for a long time and running barefoot on anything but really soft grass is going to hurt.  Hence, the market for a shoe that will cover your feet in a way that eliminates the pain of stepping on a rock or stick but still simulates the movement of running as if you were barefoot.  The slope drop from your heel to your forefoot here is pretty much zero, but should be less than 2mm to be considered “barefoot”.  (In my research I haven’t found anybody who is regulating this, however, so beware of a barefoot shoe with a 6 mm drop.)  Cosmetically barefoot shoes start to look completely different.  From separate compartments for your toes, to weird gladiator looking sandals,  they really don’t share a lot in common with your old Asics. 

Barefoot runners from somewhat normal looking to not at all.

So what good is it?  Well, one thing scientists and runners have been able to agree upon is that there are receptors in your feet that “feel” the ground as you run and walk.  The more access these receptors have to the information on the ground the better they can do their job: Aligning your body to create maximum efficiency as you move forward.  Of course, this is all done in nanoseconds and without our knowledge.  Proponents of the barefoot movement say that by running on very little to no cushion will increase the information gathered by these receptors and will, in turn, allow your body to move more naturally and stave off the injury and pain normally associated with the sport of running.  Who knows…we probably were never designed to run on concrete anyways.  I say try it for yourself and let your body decide!

Corn Nuts and Coconut Water: Pacing the Badwater Ultra-marathon

When we stepped out of the Suburban on Saturday night it was 108 degrees and the reality of what we were here to do hit home.  This was Furnace Springs,Death ValleyNational Park, and we were here to help Juan run Badwater, arguable the hardest foot race in the world.  Juan Sanchez, theSt. Helena“shirtless” runner, had asked for our help and because we saw an opportunity to help a fellow athlete, or perhaps challenge ourselves just the same, we accepted and plunged ourselves into the world of extreme ultra-running. 

The festivity that surrounds Badwater is a strange and often times ironic thing.  These athletes know that within 24 hours they will have self-inflicted some of the worst pain and mental anguish they have ever experienced, yet, the camaraderie is overflowing with race participants.  They may come from different parts of the globe, they may be wearing lederhosen, they may not speak English, and they may be wearing pink tutus, but they are all runners through and through.  They have all put the mileage in. They have all felt the pain of running great distances and together they form one of the most passionate, endearing, driven groups of people I have ever seen.  If your runner or team was in need not one of these athletes would hesitate to lend a hand, a spray of water or some blister control advice.  Oswaldo Lopez, Juan’s friend and the winner of Badwater 2011 passed us just after dark around mile 70.  Although his pace was much faster than ours he slowed and ran with us for 15 minutes or more, talking to Juan, offering him words of encouragement before pushing on into the night and his victory in less than 24 hours.  

Those who are selected to run Badwater have something that most of us do not.  There are, of course, the logistics of completing a minimum of three continuous 100 mile races before you can even submit an application.  There is a fierce desire to push your body to the breaking point, to ignore the physical pain and push on through it all, but there is also a softer, quieter element of self-determination and self-awareness that only shows itself during these periods of intense physical stress.  Pacing Juan during this 135 mile Challenge of Champions gave me a glimpse into this super-athlete persona of dedication, drive and, in Juan’s case, complete selflessness.  He literally gave himself to this race, in body, mind and spirit and gave us the opportunity to experience it with him every step of the way. 

The simplicity of running from the lowest and hottest place in the United States to symbolically the highest in the lower 48 is what makes this race so appealing to ultra-runners.  It is also what makes it a logistical nightmare.  We had spent the week prior pouring over the route, rereading the rules, and planning for the inevitable and the unthinkable.  If we were going to make it through this, we weren’t going to be disqualified for an infraction, or have to stop due to something we didn’t pack.  We needed two pace cars: the Suburban, our main support vehicle in which we had to contain anything Juan and his pacer might need for the next two days and enough ice to keep those items cold and fresh. We also had a secondary vehicle that would be within a 5 mile radius at all times to deliver any overflow items we may need and to warehouse extra ice, a rare and precious commodity in the desert.  To say we were well stocked was an understatement but none of us knew what the next few days would bring and no one wanted to leave that to chance. 

As a pacer it was our duty to aid Juan in anything he might need during his 40+ hours of running.  This meant running or walking alongside him as well as constantly analyzing his physical and mental state and tailoring our aid stops to address his current condition.  Salt tablets where a must.  Every hour, or less during the heat of the day, we would stop Juan and administer this all too important little, white pill.  Also, there was blister care, bathroom schedules, weight analysis and of course, a steady supply of Corn Nuts, Juan’s secret weapon.  A constant intake of fluids and nutrition is absolutely necessary for the success of running Badwater.  Dehydration is not the only thing you have to be concerned about in the desert.  Your body over heats and it stops excepting nutrition and liquids.  You get low on salt or other electrolytes, your muscles cramp and fatigue sets in allowing for more serious conditions to take precedence, including, confusion, high-blood pressure and nausea.  All of these are very serious in the desert where the road temperature can exceed 200 degrees, and all can be race ending or worse.  This year 12 participants would not see the finish line and several would see a hospital.

The pace crew soon took on the mantra of “whatever it takes” and we did just that.  We didn’t sleep for over 50 hours.  We ran and walked with Juan and ran and walked some more. We fed him fruit cups, coconut water and popsicles and ate them right alongside him.  We sponged him in the 122 degree heat and changed his shoes as his blisters got worse.  The repetition of aiding him became a blur of his footsteps, of blinking red lights and water bottles as we whirl winded closer to the finish line.  In all we stopped and aided Juan an estimated 175 times in his 33 hour and 9 minute run to 18^th place.  We told stories, jokes and watched the sunset and the sunrise again.  We had in-depth philosophical discussions on the nature of happiness all in the name and effort of seeing him cross that finish line and to see ourselves cross it with him. 

Once as I walked with Juan well after midnight on Tuesday morning, I found myself enthralled with his story of dedication and servitude to running.  He had lived through a portion of his life in absence of running and came out knowing that he and it could not be apart.  Juan is running and running is Juan.  You may have glimpsed a bit of this inseparable bond as you see him streak down HWY 29 early in the morning on his way to Yountville or further.  This is the Juan I knew before Badwater and after coexisting in this surreal desert reality with him, I find it difficult to picture him any other way.  The crazy runner that did not leave an aid stop without thanking us for the help we were giving him.  Not once.  The runner that did not once fail to squeak out a smile at Katie, the “team mom” as she forcefully made him take his “last” salt tablet or jokingly get on his knees and crawl up the road at mile 130.  The runner that gracefully asked Father Mac to pray with him, at the finish line, before the awards and before the pictures were taken.  However, I do know that if our eyes catch as he sprints past me on the road that we will have a knowing moment of what we have experienced together, if even for a second, and a bond that can only be strengthened further by the pounding of four soles on a desolate two lane road as the horizon steeps in the golden glow of a desert sunset.  Hey, there’s always next year!

Photo’s by Ahren Trumble and David Sanchez, on location.

Air Mattress Grass

When we were young,  my father use to enthrall my brother and I with stories of his fabled backcountry adventures of yesterday.  There was the time he had to wait out a lightening storm in a small rock cave while entertaining a very lost, but very attractive female hiker.  The time his mustache froze and he had to thaw it with single malt whiskey, but no other story was as awesome and retold as that of Clyde Lake and the air mattress grass.

Clyde Lake 2008

High in the Sierra Nevada Mountains there is a pristine lake with crystal clear waters and nobody around for miles.  As the story goes there was a special kind of grass that lined the bank that was just like sleeping on the softest of feather beds…no air mattress needed.  The fish were plentiful and with enough patience and a fast hand you could catch as many golden trout as you could grasshoppers.  And, of course, the only way you in or out was over the steepest and most treacherous of passes: Mosquito Pass. 

As my brother and I started venturing into the backcountry for ourselves, it came time to unlock the mystery of this Clyde Lake and hopefully get in on some of those limitless golden trout! So packs on our back, we headed off through Desolation Wilderness, past Lake Aloha and over Mosquito Pass (not treacherous at all and very few mosquitoes!) to the pristine high alpine lake nestled at the foot of Pyramid Peak. 

Scree Fields above Clyde Lake

Looking back, I’m not sure there was anyway our trip could have lived up our father’s account as a lot of things have changed in the Sierra Nevada backcountry in 30 years. Fishing pressure and stocking regulations have all but cleaned out the golden trout populations and have you ever tried to catch a grasshopper! We didn’t have to wait out any lightening storms, or use whiskey for anything but a night cap, and with the PCT going straight through the heart of Desolation Wilderness, solitude is becoming scarce.  But, we did come back with some amazing stories of our own. There’s the backcountry ranger that mysteriously appeared out of the rocks at night fall, the secret campsite that is perched high up in the scree field where no one would think to look and as for that genetic phenomenon, “the air mattress grass” well lets just say in another 30 years maybe the intrigue of that will push our children in to the backcountry to find out for themselves.

The trail to Mosquito Pass, Desolation Wilderness

Cache Creek…discovering our own backyard

 

The Cache Creek wilderness area is just under 2 hours east of St. Helena off HWY 20.  A mixture of Bureau of Land Management and designated wilderness area, it is truly a multi-use region.  This April we set out to discover it for ourselves!

The route we chose was a 5.5 mile out and back leaving from the Judge Davis Trail head alongside HWY 20 with a one night stay over in WilsonValley on the banks of Cache Creek.  (During lower water levels it is possible to cross Cache Creek and exit out the Redbud Trail allowing for a one way, two car option)  Being an underfunded and remote wilderness area we encountered some misdirection in signage from the beginning, but with some trailside conference and a little map and compass skills, we were back on the right trail headed down, down, down to Cache Creek.  The actual BLM area is riddled with cattle trails making good map and compass skills essential should you get misdirected like us!  (Thanks to the trail side turkey hunters who pointed us in the right direction!) The detour only cost us two extra miles and allowed us to see some of the Blue Oak forests that line the eastern hillsides of this area…not to mention the wildflowers that were just starting to emerge.

The trip out to the ‘creek’ which is more of a fast flowing river in early spring, is a long, arduous journey,  through scrub brush and Manzanita, but well worth the 5 mile descent.   I would imagine this trail to be pretty inhospitable in summer but April 9^th brought about ideal 70 degree sunshine with cool breezes in the evening.  Don’t get me wrong, the route is exposed, rocky and dusty, but with the right hat and some sun block, totally doable.

The camping on the river, being a wilderness area, is anywhere you can find a spot, and, once again, in early April we had our pick.  The exposed trail gave way to trees and wildflowers again at the rivers edge, allowing us some much need shade and a beautiful evening under the stars.

You can obtain a map from the Bureau of Land Management by visiting http://www.blm.gov/ca/forms/ukiah/maps/index.php and submitting your mailing

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2nd Annual Sportago Photo Contest

Please join this March for the 2nd Annual Sportago Photo Contest!   We are looking for pictures of you, your family, your friends or people you know in Sportago gear!  Share your spirit of adventure with us,  and show us how you use our clothing, our shoes or our gear  and enter to win some more, a $100 Sportago Gift Certificate!

Last year’s winner by Haley Wight!  (See the rest HERE)

The Rules:

• A product from Sportago must be present in your picture.
• Photo’s may not be altered digitally (slight color/balance adjustments and minor cropping are OK!)
• Please include a short description of what Sportago product is in your photo, where you are along with any other information you think we should know about it!
• Submissions may be entered from March 1 through March 31, 2011
• Email photo’s (and questions) to info@sportago.com or post to our facebook page www.facebook.com/sportago
• First place is $100 Gift Certificate to Sportago and their photo hung up in the store.  Prizes for 2nd and 3rd place, too.
• Winners will be notified by April 5, 2011.

Thanks for all the participants last year, we had some beautiful and inspiring images and we look forward to seeing what you’ve been doing since then!

A Spicy Affair…The 3rd Annual Sportago Chili Cook-Off

It was cold night in November and a larger than last year crowd gathered together to taste the spicy, meaty, greatness that is chili.  There were 7 entrants this year, up one from last year and everyone came to play, crock pots in hand.  There was a buffalo chili, there was a three beef chili, a three bean chili and a number of other “secret recipes” that could not be placed into specific classes other than red hot, sweet, sweet chili.  All tasted fantastic.  “The judging was is going to be hard this year” were the words on everyone’s spiced chapped lips. 

The night started with a chili powder sampling to prime the pallets: smoked Serrano, Chili de Arbol, Ancho powder, Urfa and then the sleeper…Ghost chili…only the brave need apply.  Once flavors were committed to memory and the taste buds were subdued back to a simmer, the real chili tasting started.

There was some impressive contenders, but one chili shined through…Karl Sorenson’s green carnitas chili.  Maybe it was the unusual tomatillo color, maybe it was the fact that it took 3 days to make, maybe it was the deep fried carnitas, whatever it was, it stood out and said “I am the superior chili here tonight everyone”.  Karl comes from a long line of serious chili aficionados.  His father has won the Napa Valley Chili Cook-Off 3 times in a row and has been politely asked not to return. 

 As you can see from Karl’s face…this win was a big one.  Congratulations Karl and to all who participated this year.  Now, if anyone can figure out how to dehydrate chili for our next backcountry adventure, please let us know.

Happy Halloween

Happy Halloween from the entire Sportago staff!

(All carvings from the Sportago pumpkin art extravaganza 2009)

“The greatest meeting of land and water in the world”

Once and a while I need a reawakening of the senses.  A reboot from the day to day…hopefully everyone does at some time or another.  Point Lobos State Natural Reserve is an eye opener!  With humbling waves and stress erasing coastal vistas, a trip to this little central California gem should definitely be on your life list!

(Scale alert: see the little specks on top of the center rock?  Those are Sea Lions!)

Deriving its name from the offshore rocks at Punta de los Lobos Marinos, Point of the Sea Wolves, where the sound of the sea lions carries inland, this reserve is not to be missed on your next trip to California’s Central Coast.  Take a few hours to explore the sun filtered cypress groves, the explosive waves of Devil’s Cauldron and the soothing sounds of the native Sea Lions and if you can swing it all…stay for the sunset.  You won’t be disappointed!  

In the words of landscape artist Francis McComa, Point Lobos is truly “the greatest meeting of land and water in the world.”  At least the greatest I have come across so far…but that’s half the fun, right?  For more information visit: www.pointlobos.org.

You can see more pictures of Point Lobos and other Sportago adventures on our Facebook Page!

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A seldom seen perspective

Photo credit: Jamie Hewett, from the red banks, Mt. Shasta, CA.

Sometimes we are invited to participate in an event that pushes against the boundaries of our own perspective.  While climbing Mt. Shasta this spring, Sportago Ambassador Jamie Hewett, was invited to witness one of these seldom seen occurrences: The mountain shadow.  For a short period of time, if you’re high enough, the early morning sunrise from the east will display a much larger, more rudimentary copy of the very mountain that you now stand shivering upon. What once was the imposing figure of Mount Shasta is transformed into calmer, more polished copy of itself, inlaid with the more familiar world below.  A sight that brings to mind the quote from Rene Daumal:

“You cannot stay on the summit forever; you have to come down again. So why bother in the first place? Just this: What is above knows what is below, but what is below does not know what is above. One climbs, one sees. One descends, one sees no longer, but one has seen. There is an art of conducting oneself in the lower regions by the memory of what one saw higher up. When one can no longer see, one can at least still know.”

A Path To Heaven

Please welcome to the Great Outdoor Clothing blog guest writer, Test Team Member, botanist and amateur Film Maker: Jeb Bjerke

Mt. Dana is 13,061 feet above sea level.  Beyond the timber-line and significant vestiges of life.  It is a land of broad strokes.  Boulders, scree, snow, and sky.  As I struggled with altitude and exertion the visible horizon became wider.  And I could see the east and the west.  And then another false summit crushed my enthusiasm.   Yet another hill.  And I continued up. 

But then there is perfume.  Charmed breeze.  And a beautiful deep blue-purple globe of flowers beneath the moonscape rocks.  Hope.  And I was in love.

Above and below: Polemonium eximium along the trail to Forester Pass, Kings Canyon NP, CA. Photo: A. Trumble

I was among co-workers on a weekend adventure.  This was our free time.  We were botanists and biologists collecting native plant seeds in the western Great Basin for the Millennium Seed Bank Project.  The goal was to collect 10 percent of the world’s wild plant species by the year 2010.  It was successful.  We were well equipped and qualified to determine the species as soon as we returned to the truck and our invaluable Jepson Manuals.  And we quickly did.  It was Polemonium eximium. 

The genus Polemonium probably comes from the Greek word polemos which means strife or war.  The specific epithet eximium is Latin for remarkable or extraordinary.  Extraordinary strife.  Fitting words for my new favorite flower, a plant that survives in the most rugged parts of California: the lofty peaks of the Sierra Nevada.  It grows from piles of rock.  To my knowledge, it lives at the highest elevation of any plant in California.  There is an old tradition among mountaineers to pick a sprig of this flower when one first climbs a peak.  I might have picked some had I known. 

The air can be very dry at high elevations.  Polemonium eximium’s musky resinous leaves are indeed an adaptation that inhibits water from transpiring.  For some plants, producing odors effective at attracting pollinators in this very dry air is problematic.  Many alpine species produce showy flowers to attract pollinators instead of producing odor.  Polemonium eximium is remarkable in that it does both.  Looking and smelling in the most desolate and jagged terrain of California. 

Five years later I saw it again.  Climbing the 3^rd tallest peak in California: White Mountain Peak.  Then again over treacherous Forrester Pass.  And finally on the 6^th day of a trek to Mt. Whitney: the highest point in the contiguous United States.  Whitney’s eastern slope is a vertical garden of it. 

Jeb Bjerke among the Sky Pilots.  Eastern Slope of Mt. Whitney, CA. Photo: A. Trumble

This flower does not give its gift lightly.  No roads will take you to receive it.  You must earn the privilege.  July through August it is not covered in snow.  Lace up your boots.  For you must climb.  You must breathe the thin dry air and ascend the talus slopes.  And take time off work.  And sweat.  And not sleep well.  And hurt.  But I promise you it is worth it.  And the gift is more that just a pleasant smell and a splash of color.  So much more.  After you find it,  just take a look around. 

The common name for this species is sky pilot.  It is a nickname for a clergyman.  A path to heaven.  That sounds about right to me.

You can see more of Jeb’s adventures and handy work HERE

interested in being  a guest blogger for Sportago?  Send your submissions to info@sportago.com.  We would love to share your adventures, too!

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