I was warming up prior to the start of a 5k a few weeks ago, elegantly clad in my Vibram Five Finger Bikilas. A guy near me saw my footwear, and started a conversation about how I liked them. He had seen some press about VFFs, but hadn't tried them yet. I related how I had run exclusively in the VFFs since my first run in them over a year ago, and how I had reset my personal record in a 5k twice since then. I'm 48 years old, so this is no small accomplishment.
After ridding myself of excess fluids, I stopped by my running club's tent. My club has serious runners. People who make racing their priority in life. I am not a serious runner. I just utilize running as part of my cardio routine, and race for the t-shirts. As we mingled, someone noticed my bright blue Bikilas. He immediately told me how he had tried them, had pulled a muscle, and never ran in them again. Some others also ruminated on how bad they must be for the feet. I tried to explain how much these freaky little things did for my running, but they had the walls up. There was no way I could breach their defenses. So I just smiled, and nodded my head. I don't debate zealots, unless I have time to kill.
As we lined up for the start, many people were staring at my shoes. A few people were poking each other and pointing at my shoes while whispering what must have been anecdotes of doom and pain. Of the 500 or so competitors, I didn't see anyone else in VFFs. I was a freak. I am a freak. Take in my freakiness. The race started.
This year I decided to do everything with a smile on my face. It's easy to run with a smile on my face wearing the Bikilas. As my smiling faced passed the first mile marker, I noticed the clock showed 6:07. I was faster than ever. I also remembered that I had a 7 mile run on my training calendar (doing my first half marathon in June) for the next day, and I may trash my body if I kept at this pace, even if I was smiling. So I backed off a bit. My next two mile markers had me more aligned with the pace I wanted in the race. I was racing as part of my half marathon training.
As I came to the last stretch, a proud father called to his son who was in front of me, that he was in 26th place. I eyed up the kid, and then looked at the guy in front of him. He looked about my age, so I decided that if I could take him and the kid, I'd be in 25th place. So I picked the pace up. The gray haired guy picked the pace up. I settled about 10 yards behind him, and decided that if I beat one person, it should be him. The kid was no competition for me. The kid made his break. The gray haired guy held his pace. I put a little in the tank, and then busted loose. My strategy was simple - if I passed him quickly, he wouldn't try to keep up. I had to open the gap quickly, and take away his confidence that he could catch me. Which is what I did. The kid looked back, thought I was coming for him, and took off leaving us well behind. I beat the gray haired guy by a few seconds (you can see him in black over my shoulder in the picture), and he was in my age group.
As my body and mind settled, I sucked in air as I sucked down water. My honey came over and gave me a kiss. I noticed my time at the crossing, and it was 20:26, which put me at 6:35 per mile. My previous personal record was 6:45 per mile, and on a much flatter course. I was pumped. The results were posted as the sheets filled. I elbowed my way in (sorry kid, didn't mean to hit you in the head), and saw I 'd won my age group. This was a first for me. I wandered some more, and then doubted that the results could be correct. I must have misread the scores. My honey joined me to read the results, and yes, I won my age group. I was a happy guy.
As I watched the awards, two guys stood next to us. One noticed my footwear, and asked how I liked the VFFs. I told him that I won my age category, and had set three personal records in less than a year. He and his friend congratulated me, and one said he had been reading about them, and until now, he hadn't been convinced. Now that he heard me, he was convinced. He was buying a pair.
The members of my running club were great, we had won most of the age groups, and had a strong showing. As I walked back into the crowd with my first place trophy, I heard someone say "Look at what he has on his feet. Do you think he ran in them?".
On that day, I told the truth of minimalist footwear through my performance, not just with my mouth. We can tell people what we know to be the truth all we want, but the best way to convince others of the truth we find in our life is to live the truth. People around us see the impact the truth has on our lives and learn from this.
This lesson applies to many aspects of life, whether it be religion, personal beliefs, or world view. Tell the story through how you live our life, not with just your words. Be the change you want to see in the world.
If you like this post, please spread it among your social network by using the buttons below. You can also add this blog to your RSS feed, or subscribe via e-mail.
_________________
After ridding myself of excess fluids, I stopped by my running club's tent. My club has serious runners. People who make racing their priority in life. I am not a serious runner. I just utilize running as part of my cardio routine, and race for the t-shirts. As we mingled, someone noticed my bright blue Bikilas. He immediately told me how he had tried them, had pulled a muscle, and never ran in them again. Some others also ruminated on how bad they must be for the feet. I tried to explain how much these freaky little things did for my running, but they had the walls up. There was no way I could breach their defenses. So I just smiled, and nodded my head. I don't debate zealots, unless I have time to kill.
As we lined up for the start, many people were staring at my shoes. A few people were poking each other and pointing at my shoes while whispering what must have been anecdotes of doom and pain. Of the 500 or so competitors, I didn't see anyone else in VFFs. I was a freak. I am a freak. Take in my freakiness. The race started.
As I came to the last stretch, a proud father called to his son who was in front of me, that he was in 26th place. I eyed up the kid, and then looked at the guy in front of him. He looked about my age, so I decided that if I could take him and the kid, I'd be in 25th place. So I picked the pace up. The gray haired guy picked the pace up. I settled about 10 yards behind him, and decided that if I beat one person, it should be him. The kid was no competition for me. The kid made his break. The gray haired guy held his pace. I put a little in the tank, and then busted loose. My strategy was simple - if I passed him quickly, he wouldn't try to keep up. I had to open the gap quickly, and take away his confidence that he could catch me. Which is what I did. The kid looked back, thought I was coming for him, and took off leaving us well behind. I beat the gray haired guy by a few seconds (you can see him in black over my shoulder in the picture), and he was in my age group.
As my body and mind settled, I sucked in air as I sucked down water. My honey came over and gave me a kiss. I noticed my time at the crossing, and it was 20:26, which put me at 6:35 per mile. My previous personal record was 6:45 per mile, and on a much flatter course. I was pumped. The results were posted as the sheets filled. I elbowed my way in (sorry kid, didn't mean to hit you in the head), and saw I 'd won my age group. This was a first for me. I wandered some more, and then doubted that the results could be correct. I must have misread the scores. My honey joined me to read the results, and yes, I won my age group. I was a happy guy.As I watched the awards, two guys stood next to us. One noticed my footwear, and asked how I liked the VFFs. I told him that I won my age category, and had set three personal records in less than a year. He and his friend congratulated me, and one said he had been reading about them, and until now, he hadn't been convinced. Now that he heard me, he was convinced. He was buying a pair.
The members of my running club were great, we had won most of the age groups, and had a strong showing. As I walked back into the crowd with my first place trophy, I heard someone say "Look at what he has on his feet. Do you think he ran in them?".
On that day, I told the truth of minimalist footwear through my performance, not just with my mouth. We can tell people what we know to be the truth all we want, but the best way to convince others of the truth we find in our life is to live the truth. People around us see the impact the truth has on our lives and learn from this.
This lesson applies to many aspects of life, whether it be religion, personal beliefs, or world view. Tell the story through how you live our life, not with just your words. Be the change you want to see in the world.
If you like this post, please spread it among your social network by using the buttons below. You can also add this blog to your RSS feed, or subscribe via e-mail.
_________________
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