Here’s one easy way to tell that it’s the offseason ...
When I’m in training mode, encountering a situation such as the one below on my way to work wouldn’t represent much more than a simple annoyance and delay. Nowadays, I look at events like this differently:
I figure that a giant donut truck didn’t just happen to be there blocking traffic right in front of the donut shop on a morning when I was hungry and craving a donut; it must have been a sign. Like, from God or something. Being as religious man, I interpreted the sign thusly: God really wanted me to stop and have a donut. Being a faithful man, I made sure to take this sign seriously.
And so I did: I pulled the car over, ate a big ol’ apple fritter, and continued on my way. Didn't even think twice about it. Best of all, I didn’t have one moment of remorse.
Sometimes the off season is a wonderful place to be.
My wife usually doesn’t react well to conversations that begin with me saying, “Hey, come here – smell this!”, but this week she was happily surprised by what I had to show her.
I had just come home from work, and was unloading my clothes from that morning’s 12-mile trail run, including an Icebreaker BodyFit 200 base layer I recently received from Wilderness Running Company. Among other qualities, the shirts claim a “no stink” feature, even after repeated washings.
I’ve described my wife’s bloodhound-like sense of smell in the past, so I don’t need to retell that story here. One of her biggest pet peeves about my training is how I hang the clothes from my morning workout on hooks in our bedroom closet to dry during the day before I toss them in the hamper. She claims she can smell the stench of them from three rooms away, or something like that.
Needless to say, I was excited to try the Icebreaker stuff. Their clothing is made from the superfine wool of the merino, a mountain sheep from the Southern Alps of New Zealand. The merino’s wool fibers are remarkably thin but also very dense, which keeps the sheep warm and dry in harsh conditions, but allows them to stay cool during the warmer seasons.
These specialized wool fibers have the same dynamic quality when incorporated in performance clothing as they do on the sheep: they expand to lock in body heat for insulation when it’s cold, but remain highly breathable so you don’t overheat. Icebreaker garments are made from 100% pure merino, in three different thicknesses designated by number: higher numbers indicate denser material, and lower numbers are more lightweight. I tried a BodyFit 150 T-shirt, and a warmer BodyFit 200 long sleeve crew (shown at right - on someone who's not me). All Icebreaker tops are made to be form-fitting, but not quite as tight as a compression shirt, and with a seamless underarm area to prevent chafing. The high density fabric feels very soft and comfortable against your skin – certainly much better than synthetic material or even cotton. They’re generally used as base layers, but would work alone as a fitted tech tee as well. Bodyfit shirts are available in a variety of weights and styles, so you can pick one that’s ideal for your preferences.
Merino wool has several unique qualities that make it attractive for apparel companies: it’s eco-friendly and 100% sustainable (all you need is a small flock of sheep), completely biodegradable, and the end product is comfortable and dynamic as described above. But what really sold it for me – and especially for my wife – is the way it resists odors.
Icebreaker products are marketed as “no stink” garments, and they absolutely work as advertised. Whether following a 12-mile run, or after sitting in my car for 10 hours while I’m at work, they DON’T STINK. Not even a little bit. It’s kind of amazing, really. And nobody was more shocked and delighted to learn this than my wife.
In fact, she was so impressed with the “No Stink” performance that the conversation I mentioned at the beginning of this post ended this way:
Wife: You need to buy more of those. How much are they?
Me: They’re a little pricey …
Wife: I don’t care. They’re worth it. Get more of them.
So there you have it. Icebreaker gear is on the expensive side – the long sleeve crew I tried retails for $70 – so unless you have a ton of disposable income, you can’t just rush out and revamp your whole workout wardrobe. However, for the next 10 days, Wilderness Running Company is making the opportunity to try them a lot more affordable.
Between now and November 22nd, WRC is offering a 15% off promotion on all BodyFit baselayers. This is a general sale – although it doesn’t apply to Icebreaker caps or gloves, which are made of the same merino wool - so if you use my regular discount code R&R10, you’ll get an additional 10% off, giving you a 25% total savings. (You can use my coupon code for the caps and gloves for 10% off as well). It’s a great opportunity to try one or two models, to see for yourself how they perform.
Who knows, they might even contribute to improved domestic tranquility at your house, like they have at mine.
*products provided by Wilderness Running Company **See other product reviews on sidebar at right. If you have a product you’d like reviewed, contact me at info@runningandrambling.com.
“Take only pictures, leave only footprints.” - Popular outdoor expression
I’ve mentioned several times how trail running is something of a final frontier for my progression as a barefoot runner. As recently as a couple of weeks ago, I turned around less than two minutes into an attempted trail run, because the terrain was too painful for my tender soles to bear. I figured it would be months or years until I could build up enough toughness to tolerate trails.
Turns out, I didn’t need to get tougher – only smarter.
When it comes to trails, there’s a wide variety of terrain available, and Monterey County happens to have several options to choose from. So I spent some time thinking about where I’d have the most success ditching the Vibrams for a purely barefoot trail run, and finally settled on one of the areas I know best: the Fort Ord open space between Salinas and Monterey.
Much of this particular section of Fort Ord is elevated above the Salinas Valley, which gives you nice views of the agricultural lands below. However, that’s not why I chose this place …
… I picked it because of the long, frequent stretches of sandy trail interspersed with the otherwise firm soil. In some places the sand is so thick, it’s like running on the beach. I figured if I can’t make it through sections like this, there’s probably no hope for me.
Typically, the trails are some hybrid of sand and stone – and unlike the probably 2,000 other times I’ve run out here, on this occasion, I actually sought out the sand instead of avoiding it.
Of course, there are some sections you just want to stay away from entirely – but luckily, there aren’t too many of them here.
The cool thing about running in shallow sand is how you can look over your shoulder at almost any point and see your own tracks. Of course, I nearly tripped over myself about 10 different times while craning my neck to look behind me while running, which isn’t exactly the safest practice in the world.
There are enough rolling hills out here to make it an honest trail run …
… for example, this is the elevation gained during the first mile and a half away from the parking area, which is visible below.
The top of the ridge is also a good spot to goof around with some self-portraits.
Along the ridgeline, the trail remains wide and relatively smooth …
… and there a lot of nice vantage points for a rest break if you’re not in a big hurry.
You know what’s almost as cool as seeing your bare footprint? Seeing your barefoot shadow. Whenever the sun hits me at the proper angle, I like to spread my toes apart a bit in the swing phase of my stride, just to catch a brief glimpse of the individual toe outlines on the ground below. I never get tired of silly games like this.
Further down the trail, here’s the trickiest part of the run: a single track featuring large gravel sprinkled among some larger pointed rocks. Luckily, this section of this particular trail is relatively short, and the rest of it is manageable – but I slowed to nearly a walk while navigating through this stuff.
It’s worth noting that these “toes in the bottom of the frame” pictures are WAY harder than they should be for me. I have to lean backwards, lift one foot up past my knee, and hold both the airborne foot and the camera steady while balancing on one leg. I know it doesn’t sound that complicated, but my flexibility is absolutely terrible; whenever I try pictures like this, I always feel like I’m auditioning for Cirque du Soleil or something.
It may not seem like it, but stretches like this are the worst for a barefoot runner: an irregular distribution of various sized rocks spread across a very firmly packed surface. The larger gravel is impossible to avoid, and the underlying earth is completely unyielding – you may as well be stabbing me with nails underneath.
Fortunately the trail soon returns to the normal sandstone paths I’m comfortable with, and I’m on my way back to the start.
One of the coolest things about retracing my steps on the return trip is literally retracing my steps. I pass these impressions in the ground and think to myself, “Hey – I left those there!”
This might sound silly – but the bare footprints are also kind of a distinctive mark to leave on the trail for others who will pass this way later on. I like to believe that in the same way that I sometimes get a charge from seeing bobcat or coyote tracks in the soil, maybe some hikers will see these later on and wonder at what kind of crazy animal left them there.
Back at the trailhead after a 5-mile run, I’m content that I’m finally making headway into that last frontier. It’s time for another rest and another snapshot – but this time, the picture isn’t of the frustrated tenderfoot I was before the run; it’s one of an evolving barefoot runner who is happily playing in the dirt again.
All that’s left is to wash my feet, and I’m merrily on my way.
*See other Barefoot Files reports on sidebar at right
If you had told me that this barefoot shoe series would eventually entail my delving into the world of Brazilian dance wear, I would have never believed it. And yet, that’s precisely where today’s review has led us. Furthermore, I’m not entirely convinced that Jinga is primarily a footwear company; it’s more like an enterprise that was created to bring about social change while enriching as many lives as possible, who somehow decided to start making footwear along the way. It’s one of the more colorful corporate stories I’ve heard in this whole series, and this is perhaps the company who makes the biggest direct impact on the targeted beneficiaries of its humanitarian outreach.
But first, the name.
There’s a Brazilian colloquialism called ginga which is a descriptive term describing the joyful, intangible aspect of someone’s personality; something that Americans might describe as spirit, energy, charisma, style, or joie de vivre (OK, that one’s French, but you know what I mean) all rolled into one. Ginga is an individual sense of personal expression that makes each one of us unique.
Brazilians believe they have ginga in abundance, which gives them the natural grace and fluid energy they proudly display on soccer fields and dance floors all over the world. Jinga shoes (the company name is spelled differently for easier pronunciation) are seemingly made with that purpose in mind; the company’s FAQ page includes testimonials from salsa instructors and performers describing how ideal the footwear is for many forms of dance. They’re also the footwear of choice for at least two world-famous (at least, according to the website – I’m stretching beyond my realm of expertise here) salsa dance troupes.
And remember what I said about their shoe business being something of an afterthought? That comes from the website as well:
We are a social enterprise. Where regular companies are driven first and foremost by financial targets, our goals are social as well. Our purpose is not just to run a successful business, but also to provide opportunities and social development to disadvantaged young people in Brazil. All our profits are reinvested for social purposes – both within our company, to improve the environmental and social impacts of our products and our supply chain, and also outside our company, providing funding assistance for Julio Otoni, a social project for young people and teenagers in a low income area of Rio de Janeiro.
So Jinga is not just about shoes: it’s about creating and making the most of opportunities, about bringing colour into people’s lives, progression, fun and individuality and trying to get the best out of life for everyone as far as we can make that happen.
Seems like a company you can feel good about supporting, doesn’t it? And if that doesn’t convince you that the company is trying to make the world a smaller, happier place, here’s one more item to consider: in addition to their footwear enterprise, the owners host another business called Jingando Holidays; it offers vacation packages where you get a guided tour of the city, participate in outreach projects benefitting impoverished kids, and take as many hours of dance instruction as you’d like in all the coolest nightspots in Rio.
Considering all that ... can you see why it’s hard for me to stay focused on footwear? So let’s finally take a look at these shoes.
Jinga shoes are purely minimalist footwear, with no heel, no arch, and no cushioning in the outsole. They combine a lightweight synthetic and mesh upper with a super thin and flexible outsole for a shape that feels like a dance slipper, but looks like a classic sneaker*. The color schemes available have a distinctively Brazilian character: vibrant, colorful, and fun. They may not get you through a day at the office, but they’ll be a conversation starter as soon as you’re off the clock.
(*Full disclosure: my wife thinks they look like bowling shoes. Needless to say, it's not the first fashion-related difference of opinion we've ever had. Since it's my review, I'm calling it a sneaker - but feel free to weigh in in the comments. If consensus goes her way, my wife will love you for it, and I'll never hear the end of it. On second thought ... maybe I shouldn't encourage comments so much.)
PVC outsole
The outsole is made of recycled PVC, like the pipes that carry water to your outdoor sprinklers. At its thickest point, the outsole is a mere 4mm thick, giving you superb ground feel. Wavy traction stripes on the bottom provide surprisingly good traction, and the outsole is flexible enough that your foot naturally employs the same toe and forefoot grip that it uses when walking barefoot. However, the outsole material and means of construction are designed to minimize friction, so you can glide smoothly and stay light on your feet during your samba or soltinho routines (I’m learning all kinds of new Brazilian words lately).
The shoes come with a 2mm insole for those who like a little bit of cushioning, but I found that I much prefer them with the insoles removed. Even with the insole, the entire shoe weighs 250g, which places it second only behind Feelmax for lightweight footwear.
The standard demo for minimalist shoes
Ironically, even though they make a nearly perfect minimalist running shoe, the Jinga website does not recommend using the shoes for running. When I questioned one of the owners about this, she admitted that their recommendation was based on a comparison to traditional athletic shoes (and traditional heel-striking runners). I’ve mentioned before how the barefoot running movement has taken several companies by storm, and Jinga is a classic example. They now realize the potential new market they have, and they’re revising the language on their website to indicate that their footwear is perfectly suitable for barefoot or minimalist runners.
I’ve gone running in my Jingas, and experienced no issues with overall durability or traction on the asphalt. The lacing system allows you to dial in your desired snugness, and the lining of the upper is comfortable enough that I can wear them without socks, with no chafing or blister issues. I prefer, however, using these more as an everyday shoe, for casual outings when I want to stay “nearly” barefoot in something that looks like a standard sneaker*. (*Or bowling shoe. Whatever.)
At the moment, Jinga doesn't have any retailers in the US. Although prices on their website are advertised in £, the payment provider does a conversion to American dollars for you, and the 39.99 pounds converts to about 64 US dollars. Jinga already enjoys a fair number of customers from the States and Canada, and they’re looking to get a presence in some North American stores and e-vendors in the next year.
I find myself really pulling for them to succeed. The company’s stated mission is to help everyone bring out their unique ginga, and they do it in a way that is both enriching for people and protective of the planet. If karma has anything to do with it, Jinga is a company that has a lot of dancing days ahead of them.
*footwear provided by Jingando Ltd. ** See other product reviews on sidebar at right. If you have a product you’d like reviewed, contact me at info@runningandrambling.com.Read more...
Today’s entry is a weekend update of sorts, following up on some topics I’ve introduced here in recent weeks - and if it’s OK with you, I’ll get the awkward one out of the way first.
1) On more than one occasion, I’ve mentioned the intriguing story of Tellman Knudsen, who is attempting to run across the country barefoot, ostensibly to raise money for homeless youth. Since I promoted him earlier, I feel obligated now to point out that Tellman’s philanthropy may not be as sincere as advertised.
The article linked above certainly paints a shady portrait, and I’d hate for anyone to contribute to him without knowing the potential downside. I honestly don’t know where the truth in this whole saga lies, or exactly what to make of the guy; on one hand, I’m kind of cheering for him to pull off the barefoot odyssey – on the other, his eccentricity and apparent hucksterism just leave me shaking my head.
2) The next item is the polar opposite in terms of respectability: it’s the next installment of Patagonia’s Footprint Chronicles video series.
Part 2 of the series is called “What Comes Next?” and it’s something of a global roundtable on ecologically responsible manufacturing. The clip is a good 12 minutes long, so I won’t bore you with a detailed recap – rather, I’ll just throw out a few bullet points as a teaser:
* Among the featured interviewees are Patagonia’s Director of Environmental Analysis and VP of Environmental Initiatives, as well as Starbucks’ VP of Global Responsibility. How many corporations even have those positions? The fact that titles like that even exist in some global companies has to be a good sign, I would hope.
* While a rapidly-increasing number of companies eagerly promote their “sustainable” manufacturing processes and green initiatives, a question worth asking is whether or not a truly sustainable business is even possible. Can any company actually contribute more to the planet than it takes away? Do societal contributions like jobs and livelihood offset the negative environmental impact – and if so, does that even matter?
* Finally, the video addresses the elephant in the room with any discussion of green enterprise: what exactly is the role the individual consumer? We live in the most consumptive era of the most consumptive culture in the history of mankind - and our collective demand for so much “stuff” is the unifying factor at the heart at every environmental problem faced by every company today. Since the essence of capitalism is for businesses to meet every imaginable consumer demand, relying on them to promote decreased consumption is something like asking the tobacco industry to sponsor anti-smoking initiatives.
So are companies really the entities most accountable for ecological stewardship? At what point do we assess our personal responsibility? And why do we value all of our stuff so much anyway? There aren’t any simple answers, but these are interesting topics of consideration in the video that follows.
** The Footprint Chronicles, Part 2: What Comes Next? (click to play):
(Admin note: this is the follow-up story to the video I posted in my Earth Shoes review. It doesn’t have anything to do with running, but you know how that goes around here. As to the subject matter: I imagine just about everyone has a story about someone who got away; this is mine.)
**
“I can tell you my love for you will still be strong – After the boys of summer have gone.” - The Ataris, “The Boys of Summer” (video after post) - original by Don Henley
In the springtime of my freshman year at college, I had my first ever head-over-heels crush on someone who I felt certain was out of my league. She was a California girl, athletic and pretty and smart, and to my shocked delight, she seemed kind of into me for a while. We had a couple of dates, went to some parties, and ran out the clock on our first year of college together.
At the time, my parents lived three states away, and my plan was to return home to them and my younger sister, to have the entire family together for one last summer. (It turned out to be more true than I could have ever known; within the next year, my parents would separate and later divorce, the whole situation grew horribly spiteful, and the four of us have never peacefully gathered since. But obviously, that didn’t factor into my decision to return home at that point.)
The problem was, my girlfriend was staying on campus, which in my mind spelled doom for our relationship. She’d spend her days at the beach or the campus pool, go to parties with her extensive network of friends, and quickly find someone a lot better than me. Like I said, I felt completely out of my league even dating her - and if I were out of sight for even a few days, I’d quickly be out of her mind as well.
Admittedly, I was acting more than a little bit paranoid … but I knew all this would happen. I knew it.
I reluctantly returned home, and as the weeks went by, all the ominous signs started falling into place: postcards and letters were exchanged less frequently, phone conversations grew shorter and further in between, and our efforts at communication became an increasingly one-way street. By the middle of the summer, we had the dreaded talk that I saw coming from a mile away: she just wasn’t into me anymore. Shortly thereafter, a mutual friend told me that she was seeing someone else, the thought of which gave me chills.
The rejection I felt was absolutely unbearable; my self-esteem plummeted, I moped around all the time, and I felt like an idiot for allowing myself to get so attached to somebody. In other words, I behaved pretty much exactly how you’d expect from someone getting his heart crushed for the first time.
Although it had been released a couple of years earlier, Don Henley’s song was still popular during that summer, and every time I heard it, all I could think about was the girl who dumped me. I could see her in my mind’s eye playing in the sun, having fun with somebody who couldn’t possibly care for her as much as I did. All I wanted was for the school vacation to end, so I could get back to California and somehow try putting our shattered relationship back together.
Not surprisingly, that reconciliation never happened.
However, shortly after returning to campus in the fall, I met a new girl – one just as Californian, but even smarter and prettier and more talented than the one who broke my heart. By the end of the year she was my girlfriend, and by the time we graduated from college we were engaged. More than two decades later, we’re still together, and there’s no question she’s the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me. And if I had still been with the first girl like I thought I wanted, there’s a good chance that none of those things would have happened.
I’m as happy today as I could possibly imagine, and there isn’t a thing I’d change about the way things transpired – and yet, whenever I heard Henley’s song through the years, I’d have an awkward, remorseful flashback to the girl who got away. Fortunately, as most pop songs do, “Boys of Summer” faded more and more with each passing year, to the point where I hardly thought about it – or her - anymore.
Then in 2003, an otherwise cool rock band called The Ataris remade the song, and I started hearing it on the radio all over again. At first, I thought listening to the song would feel like opening an old wound … but I was pleasantly surprised to find that I’m OK with it now. I’m no longer so starry-eyed to think that I could have had a successful relationship with someone who simply wasn’t into me – which I suppose makes me a bit more emotionally mature today than I was as an impetuous 18-year-old college kid.
Granted, it’s not by leaps and bounds … but just enough, I guess.
**
“I thought I knew what love was ... what did I know? Those days are gone forever – I should just let them go.” - The Ataris, “Boys of Summer” (click to play):
“Out on the road today I saw a Deadhead sticker on a Cadillac – A little voice inside my head said don’t look back, you can never look back.” - Don Henley, “The Boys of Summer” (video after post)
(*Admin note: I have a whole personal story about this song, which I may or may not share here; if the review gets too long, the music story can wait for its own post someday. We’ll see.)
**
When I first mentioned that I would be reviewing a pair of Earth Shoes, some initial reactions took me by surprise. Several people made comments to me like “I remember those shoes – they were standard hippie attire back in the 1970s.” Since that decade found me more into toy cars and T-ball games than groovy trips and free love, I understandably missed out on that whole scene. And considering that the Earth Shoes I’m testing are probably the nicest looking office attire I’ve worn all year, I didn’t initially make the connection between these shoes and their tie-dyed, flowers-in-our-hair beatnik ancestors.
So think of the Earth Footwear company as the aging Deadhead who grows to embrace social respectability in his adulthood, while still holding fast to his nonconformist ideals. They allow you look mature on the outside, but stay as counterculture as you want to be on the inside.
Counterculture is actually a pretty fitting word for Earth Footwear’s signature philosophy in shoe design. Instead of the traditional elevated heel and lowered forefoot, they flip that pattern completely around: the heel sits close to the ground, while the forefoot angles upward (at a precisely 3.7 degree angle – more on that later). The sunken heel simulates the feeling of bare feet on soft ground, and provides postural and biomechanical advantages over standard footwear.
Vintage, dude ... don't go trippin'
The design is the brainchild of a Danish yoga instructor named Anne Kalso, who developed what would become her iconic wooden sandal in the late 1960’s. An American tourist, Raymond Jacobs, discovered them in a shop in Copenhagen, and partnered with Kalso to introduce the design to US markets in 1970 – coincidentally, on April 22nd, which was the very first Earth Day. The “reversed shoe” quickly became a popular nonconformist symbol, right up there with long hair, peace symbols, and back-to-nature communes. However, in the same way that the hippie movement lost steam and became marginalized, the popularity of Earth shoes plummeted, and they eventually disappeared from the market in the late 1970s.
Thankfully, the company was later reborn as Earth Footwear, and it continues Kalso’s legacy, while at the same time catering to a much larger demographic than grown-up flower children. Today’s Earth Footwear styles are widely varied, combining the biomechanics of the early models with stylish fashion that is at home in any walk of life you can imagine.
I chose the Zmoc model from Earth’s Kalso-Lite line, so named because of their lightweight construction: the weight of the Zmoc is less than 9 oz, which is equivalent to many lightweight running shoes on the market.
The Earth men's Zmoc
The upper is constructed primarily with lightweight leather, with the exception of the heel area. Here, the shoe is constructed with thin neoprene that prevents any constriction against your Achilles tendon, and allows the shoe to flex laterally in concert with your natural ankle movement. The forefoot area is also very roomy, allowing your toes to spread apart as they would if you were barefoot.
In addition to being angled upward (we’re getting to that, I promise), the midsole is made of a form-fitting Biofoam footbed. This cushioning material molds to the shape of the foot, which helps displace and absorb shock with each step. It’s also an eco-friendly material, using 70% recycled content.
(As you would imagine from a company founded on Earth Day, Earth Footwear takes environmental considerations very seriously. They use high percentages of recycled content for all products and packaging, and are an industry leader in eliminating toxic materials from the production process. 2010 will mark a major milestone for them, as they will introduce an entirely biodegradable midsole called the BioStep [scroll down on link] for every model in their Spring collection. So even though my Zmoc looks like a dress shoe, it’s still got a tree-hugger’s soul. And midsole.)
The bottom of the Zmoc features an outsole with deep grooves in both the forward and lateral directions, allowing good forefoot flexibility. Although traction isn’t usually a prominent feature of dress shoes, the Earth outsole seems to be equivalent to a decent pair of sneakers when it comes to grip.
The 3.7 degree incline
As mentioned earlier, however, the signature feature of Earth footwear is its inclined midsole construction, which now goes by the name Kalso Negative Heel Technology. The toes sit at a 3.7 degree angle above the heels, which subtly shifts your body weight back over your heels, and creates a ground feel as if you were walking on a slightly uphill surface.
Since it’s an unorthodox standing and walking angle for most users, Earth claims that this position provides whole-body benefits – and from a biomechanics standpoint, that claim is accurate. The postural adjustments are almost automatic: a more upright spine and neutral pelvis (not tilted backward), and slight activation of the core muscles in your trunk. You’ll feel your calves stretch, and your lower extremity muscles will make small adjustments to maintain your new center of balance. (A lot of this is very similar to the “unstable platform” theory of MBT shoes – but in a far lighter and much less expensive shoe.)
Where the benefits seem a bit of a stretch is how Earth claims that the negative heel technology increases your metabolism - or, as the home page declares, you’ll burn more calories with every step. The theory is that all those small muscle contractions and adaptations trigger a higher energy demand and caloric consumption than when they’re stuck in regular shoes. While that claim may be technically true, I imagine the actual difference in daily caloric expenditure between using Earth shoes and another brand is so slight as to be insignificant. In other words, you won’t lose weight just by wearing these shoes; if you want to slim down, just go for a run first, then slip into Earth shoes afterward.
Questionable health claims aside, I found my Earth Zmocs to be extremely comfortable, and an excellent lightweight option in place of standard office dress shoes. From a barefooter’s standpoint, there’s not as much pure carryover of barefoot adaptation – primarily in ground feel - as with purely minimalist shoes such as Vivo Barefoot, but the postural changes are fairly similar, with similar biomechanical benefits.
*Product provided by Earth Footwear **See other product reviews on sidebar at right. If you have a product you’d like reviewed, contact me at info@runningandrambling.com.
**
Don Henley, “The Boys of Summer” (click to play):
(As for my song story … I’ll hold that until the weekend.)
