I am running a day late from my normal posting date. But I think I can be excused.
Now, I am still doing training for the 6 Inch Ultra. So need to get strength training up, distance and endurance, and sand skills in. So muggins here set herself up for a little beach run yesterday – less than 12 hours after the 12km trail race….. Oh my word….
then the rocks to get past, with a tide coming in and no choice but to get over it.
Next up was tending to injuries to protect them from the fine hot black sand on the 4 x 4 tracks that I had to use to bypass the rock heads I could not get over… And so the run continued..on and on and on… I had a slow start in the first few kilometers clearing rocks and heads, then got to the open beach sand and kept going. I was fairly strong for the first 18km, where I then took a meal break and a five minute recovery. Then re-starting showed the fatigue..phew it was harder to get going than I accounted for…I pushed myself for the next 3km..then I saw a young family up at the top of the beach head by their 4×4 and my mind gave up…I asked for a lift back up to the main road….”sure” they said, “we leave in 2 hours”…Oh no…I collapsed in the sand, had a little cry and a chat with myself and said, “No worries mate, it will only take me an hour to run back ..see ya later”..
The next 4km was mental hell.
I was in trouble and seriously struggled. Did a lot of walking. Finally I got back to the heads to veer back up onto the 4 x 4 trail…and I called my husband asking him to collect me at the first point of civilisation I could reach and he could get to with the car…I came to a finish at just over 25km. And I cried. I was shattered. I did not care what I looked like or who saw me in that state. I made my husband carry my back pack. And cried when I saw he parked about 300m away from me…And I cried when I got home…Then a long hot soak, and nothing for the next 12 hours. Woken up this morning and meant to go to gym for a strength session…Not…Not happening…still feeling exhausted and in a zombie state….
Hi, I am in my mid forties and run barefoot. Mostly really barefoot, sans any form of foot protection. My claim to fame for this blog, is that I have run my first full marathon completely and really barefoot, in a respectable time of 4:16. Scroll through my posts and enjoy them - all with a good sense of humour too.
My story is simply my story of running barefoot, brought about by all the various questions people ask me. I am not a specialist of any sort or any particular athlete or doctor or guru. I am an average woman who runs barefoot, enters a few club runs and a few fun runs. I run races from 5km to marathon. I love trail running, and include chats about my trail adventures.
To date, although I only started running end of August 2013, I have done nearly 2000km, of that at least 1500km in barefeet. Real barefoot. No minimalist shoes. Although when I do run in shoes I use my zero drop mimimus ones (haha - they are my ONLY pair of running shoes..)
The blog tells of my journey through life, on the road, barefoot.
The journey my real barefeet go through when they connect with the road.
The emotions my real barefeet bring out - in me, in passers by, in fellow runners.
The aggressive reactions and debates as to the well being of the real bare-feet I run in.
The passive acceptance of my real bare-feet and their exposure to the elements.
The humour to show those real bare-feet of mine are not just a piece of running equipment, a statement, a leftie or a rightie, but real flesh and blood feet with real issues.
An interesting post note..I commenced my first active run in August 2013 progressing sporadically. But it really was only from May 2014 that I started running on a consistent and slightly more serious note and slightly faster than walking pace. I am scheduled to run my Comrades Marathon in May 2015..that is a massive progression from walk/shuffle er um excuse me look at me run.. to aiming to run a World famous Ultra. Some one pinch me please!
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