I'm a barefoot runner. I'm a woman. I live in one of the richest communities in the US. I feel safe when I leave my home. Every single time.

I am one of the few.

The living that I make does not afford me the level of comfort that I live in. I am truly blessed and have to remind myself daily to thank God for the blessings He keeps piling on my head. My income is well-below the level it should be for this area, yet I thrive here. When it comes down to it, I should be living in an area that would have me looking shifty-eyed at every person who passes me.

I run the Bethesda Trolley Trail, a beautiful trail that goes through neighborhoods of homes with people who drive Land Rovers and BMW SUV's. I run past people walking their dogs, a YMCA that costs $160/mo, a private Catholic school, a park, million-dollar homes, a prep school, Whole Foods. I see other runners, friends walking & chatting, and cyclists heading to work. I've never felt worried or scared while running.

Reading Runner's World this month, there is a story about a Ugandan man who was running and found a dozen kids sleeping under a bus to keep warm because their parents had all been shot. He took them in and paid for their care and food even though he had nothing. I think about what I would do in the same situation. I'm never going to find a dozen homeless children on any of my runs... most of the kids in my neighborhoods couldn't find Uganda on a map.

There are stories all the time about women who are kidnapped, raped, beaten, and left for dead in the woods while they were running in the dark. I run at 5:30 or 6am almost every day. I have never worried about someone jumping out at me while I'm running. I sometimes wonder what I would do if it happened but I'm typically thinking about my cadence and where my foot is landing.

I'm a woman. A tall one, but still a woman. I run in all black in the dark. I feel like a bit of a badass when I'm flying through neighborhoods in my Vibram FiveFingers. I do BodyCombat as a cross-training exercise but I doubt I'd ever be able to combat someone if they came at me. I'm strong but not that strong. I could run away but I'm not really that fast. I'm just a runner... a runner who is privileged enough to run in a safe neighborhood. It's a God thing, I know that. I thank Him every morning for the beautiful moon and the gorgeous sunrise... for the trees and the quiet spaces I get to softly run through.

I'm a woman. I feel safe when I leave my home. I'm a runner. I'm blessed. I'm safe.

But how can I help other women feel safe where they live? Even if it's unsafe. I'll have to work that out on my next run.

Vast cornfields, low-hanging fog, the occasional deer, more trees than even God can count, small dirty houses on 10 acres of land, a gravel company, an Irish golf course, an Amish farm, a tractor-trailer company, more cornfields, 15 cars in 8 miles… such a relaxing long run on a Friday morning. Western New York is ingrained my bones. It'll never leave.

Growing up in Western New York, I couldn't wait to leave. Now that I have been living elsewhere for almost 10 years, Western New York calls to me, especially when I'm stressed. It calls to me quietly but with such a strong and powerful force. The trees give way to cornfields that end at more trees. My feet hit the pavement at 7:15am in a place where sidewalks don't exist. The trails in the woods are hidden so I don't bother heading out under the tree cover for fear of getting lost. Just me, the open road and the rows and rows of corn.

Last night I sat on the enclosed porch with all the windows open listening to the crickets surrounding the house. Walking outside, it was so dark that every star was easily spotted in the black sky. There were no lights impeding their twinkling. There was nothing, aside from the sound of the occasional car and barking dog.

Today, the road and I were friends. We worked together to make sure I felt like I was flying. My Bikilas were gliding over the asphalt. My music was enlightening my cadence. The fog told me the sun was trying to break through. I watched for cars to make sure they saw me. I checked my breathing and made sure my stride was in check, my feet were touching down correctly. My body was a well-oiled machine. My mind was happy.

Around mile 4, I passed an Amish house and looked over to see a little boy about the age of four standing on his porch in black pants, bright blue button-down, suspenders and his pants open watering the flowers. It made me giggle and forget about the hill I was climbing. So unassuming… just taking my time while finding some interesting scenery. No thought to how my body felt, just knew I wanted to keep going.

At the end of my run, I saw my parents' house about half a mile away and knew it was time to make things happen. I kicked it into high gear, pushed my body past its limits and sprinted like I was heading for a finish line. I felt that amazing… like I could do anything. I finally understood what it felt like when people told me they wanted to just keep running.

Tonight, as my dad and I took my 2-year-old niece on a scooters/dirt bikes, we rode over to the Genesee River and sat in chairs covered in peeling paint and rust. I looked to my right to see Amish gentlemen fishing in the river in their full beards, black hats and bright blue shirts with suspenders on their black pants. Probably finding something delicious for dinner. Where else do you see that every day?

Western New York is peaceful. People drive slower, have less stress, enjoy life. They take in the scenery and force you to do so. I learned a lot from my run today… a lot about how I need to take in everything around me instead of always worrying about where my next step will take me. 

Written: Friday, August 5, 2011

I've never been one for going with the flow, doing what everyone else is doing. I was never the person who would jump off a bridge because my friends did. My life was my own and it was never going to be boring. So why would I want to be like everyone else when it came to running?

“Let's go for a run.”
“I don't run.”
“Why?”
“I have chronic asthmatic-bronchitis.”
“Let's go anyway.”

We ran to the park and back. Two miles. I huffed and puffed but I did it. I ran 2 whole miles.

The first year I signed up for a 5k, then a 10k. I started running further, doing training runs and making myself run faster. I hated running but I loved how it made me feel when I was done. Sweaty, achy but fulfilled and happy to have accomplished something. Three years later, I'm so grateful I got dragged out on that first run.

Most of my life I've fought my mother on shoes. I hated shoes, socks, everything that made my feet feel constricted. Until I started running, I only owned one pair of sneakers at any given time and they weren't the most supportive. Heels are the bane of my existence. If I'm in them it's because I have flip flops in my bag and am obviously meeting an important client or have a hot date.

When I started realizing that running was going to be a part of my life I went to a running store and got fitted for a pair of what you all call 'running shoes' (ahem... sneakers). They watched me walk, found the right cushioning. I ran a couple more 5K's & 10K's and on my 29th birthday I ran my first Half, the Parks Half Marathon. Then the pressure set in. My knees and hips ached and groaned and told me that they wouldn't work anymore if I kept beating them this way. My non-runner friends told me that humans weren't built for running. I knew they were wrong. I LOVED running.

I honestly don't remember how I found out about them but somehow Vibram FiveFingers came into my line of vision. Due to my love for being bare footed I knew I found what I was looking for to replace my sneakers and socks. City Sports carried some of them and the girl taking care of me was wearing them at work. I tried on a pair of these magnificent frog-like shoes and was in love. $75 later I found myself a new owner. Reading up on them more I found that it was better for human bodies to run without shoes than to use all the support... but DC is not the African plains.

While taking my Vibram Sprints out for short runs to get used to them, my girlfriend Diana bought me Born to Run for helping her through her first 5K. I trotted along beside her in my Sprints and after finishing I dove into this book. I could give you a whole lecture on why you need to stop wearing sneakers but your feet are probably used to them and you'll end up with bad knees anyway... so I won't bother. This book showed me what I had been missing while running on cement in cushioned shoes and got me out of the norm and into the woods heading out on trails with my frog shoes. It also showed me that normal sneakers cause us to be more heel-strikers no matter how our bodies were meant to run. I had to retrain my body to run correctly. Not an easy task.

About 6 months after purchasing my Sprints, I ran the Parks Half Marathon again. It poured that morning and the paved trail was muddy so I took it easy. The last two miles of the race were rocks and Sprints allow you to feel everything so I knew it was going to be tough. At the 11 mile mark, a friend of mine met me to bust out the last two. I finished with bloody, muddy feet 14 minutes over my time from the year before. It was the last day of being 29 and I felt like I had still accomplished something. Although my feet were cut from the wet seams of my shoes, my body felt like I could just keep going.

A week later, my body felt like I hadn't just run 13 miles. I wasn't aching, my knees and hips were working just fine so I went for a 5 mile run. I was elated! I felt like a million bucks. Until mile 4.5. A sharp pain burst up through the top of my foot & confused me into thinking I stepped wrong. I walked for a bit, tried to run and ended up hobbling the last half mile home.

For 4 months I recovered. My foot was swollen so big that it wouldn't fit in my shoe – and I wear Dansko & Birkenstock – it was huge. I couldn't walk my dog. I could barely walk from my house to my car. I was so frustrated with hurting myself that I had to find out what I did. After talking to a few people, I found that I had sprained my foot due to not letting it recover. 13 miles on pavement after only 6 months of training in my non-cushioned shoes caused a hairline fracture in my foot and ended up causing me to lose running time.

What everyone said about FiveFingers was correct – you have to take it slow. Just because your body feels like it's ready to go doesn't mean your feet will be ready to carry you. Taking it slowly would have prevented me from being injured but I thought I could take on anything. My feet didn't grow up in the dirt, they grew up on cement and pavement in cushioned shoes with too much support. I retired my Sprints to gym work only as they showed superb ability to grasp the floor and keep my feet & ankles stable while doing squats and BodyCombat.

Next up, I bought a LivingSocial deal to Potomac Running Company and headed out to buy another pair of FiveFingers. What I found was that they had a different kind that had a harder sole so that not every branch and rock was felt while running. These blissful shoes are called Vibram FiveFingers Bikilas. They are comfy, cover my whole foot and although they caused blisters at first, once I learned about moleskin and my runs were much more smooth while my feet were less guarded, more free.

Heading off to Europe with my man, I found that the Bikilas were more compact to pack than regular sneakers. While in Germany I introduced them to new soil and took them for a relaxing 5m run in the forest. A leaf-covered trail was just perfect with soft ground beneath my feet and cool air to greet me. Such a refreshing morning. A few days later I went on my favorite run ever – a 7m run with the halfway point crossing the bridge at the Eiffel Tower in Paris.

Now, I'm pain free, taking care of my feet, my feet are taking care of me and my body is getting older but feeling none of the aches it should with all the running I do. Strapping on my Bikilas and heading out for a 4m run with my 2-year-old dog, Griffin, is just what I need in the morning. The feeling that I can fly along with the quietness of the world waking up gets my days started.

When will your feet be free?