Racing on Bare Feet
Racing for me is an art, not really a competition against anybody. A chance to be creative, and re-create oneself.
It’s noon time at the Ateneo Aquathlon and there are more than 500 racers to accommodate in line-up of waves per age group. My wave is scheduled at 11:30am...and i’m at the third heat of my age group. The sun will be as hot as it would get this El Niño season.
We’re all waiting at the College Covered courts doing our warm-up stretches. I burp with a mixed taste of beer and isaw from the previous night’s despedida party for one of my long-time training (and drinking) buddies, Jon. I think it’s a good sign that the alcohol’s evaporating.
The wait before any start of the race is one of the most anxious moments anyone could feel. Whether it’s a big race or a short sprint such as this one... the waiting time is the period to envision what you want to happen. It’s when the mind is most active while it imagines what it wants to command the body as it endures what lies ahead.
For me, in this moment of silence... crazy and creative thoughts pop in. I’m gonna enjoy this race no matter what.
I want to have a good race today. I’ve stayed healthy and asthma-free for the past months, and I wanted to sustain that. I wanted to give it 100% or even more, in terms of strategy.
“One can lose the podium finish in the transition” Noy shared in one of our Cobra Ironman Campus talks. It’s one of the areas that we need to learn to improve in any multisport race.
I’m not a podium contender today, but maybe, a good strategy can steal a chance and make the shoo-ins lose theirs. In a fast race like this, I figured that the transition could really make a big difference. With a couple of pure swimmers and triathletes in the field, I thought, one edge that I have is that I can run barefoot.
That’s really insane, I thought to myself. I was half-hearted if i’ll try it out. So I brought my Vivobarefoot shoes in the transition, just in case. I’ll decide when I finish my swim.
And we were off! The start of the swim was the usual washing-machine frenzy: a couple of elbows and kicks and then the field spreads out after the first two laps. There would be a lot of beginner swimmers from the previous waves. I didn’t risk doing tumble-turns. I might hit a swimmer following closely behind. The 600m swim took three rounds (24 laps) in the new covered pool. On my second round, being in the front part of my wave, I made the decision... i’m going for the fastest transition possible. Run on my sole!
I’ve been running on barefoot shoes for a year now, and I run barefoot once in a while. It’s not really for racing, but I do it for the benefit of correcting my form, and strengthening my foot muscles to avoid long-term pain in my joints. I usually go back to my Asics on race day, but I get the same mid-foot strike. And after a year of practicing, i’m just stoked about the whole feeling of freedom running barefoot.
At the end of the last round, I jogged towards the transition, and then grabbed my cap, shades and race belt in one go. Less than a second in my transition box.
I’m running barefoot as I exit the pool area. The sports commentator shouted out with her mic: “THERE’S SOMEONE RUNNING BAREFOOT...” I tried to be as calm as possible. It’s an uphill from the pool towards Masterson Drive... i need to conserve energy and tread light, but swiftly.
My first 3km was powered by adrenaline. I was feeling good, my landing was perfect. I couldn’t believe what I was doing... and I can see the race leaders not far in front. The second round made me feel what I needed to pay for. The asphalt was as hot as it could possibly be. And the road near the college chapel was full of sharp pebbles from cracked old asphalt. Uh-oh...I’m beginning to feel some pain on my skin as I see the others gaining on me in this lap.
On to the last kilometer, I overtook a familiar face from the same age group. We can hear the emcees entertaining the crowd. The finish is close by. I then hear someone breathing heavily behind me, matching every stride, trying to overtake me. I knew that sprinting will be painful, because the homestretch is a downhill. I attacked and made sure I had the lead towards the last bend. I grabbed the closest race band from the marshall, so that he will have to reach for the next farther one.
(photo c/o Marla Puno Santiago)
I attacked while he was reaching for the bands. But he caught up immediately and overtook on the downhill. Last 100 meters, I can hear the announcer shouting... “Here comes the Barefoot Runner!”... I knew my lungs still had a sprint, but my feet would suffer extreme pain.
I went for it, one last time. Adrenaline rushing, I caught up and edged him at the finish line. We gave high-fives and thanked each other for an enjoyable finish.
Later on I was called up the stage to receive 3rd place finish. Totally unexpected. Icing on the cake, for an unforgettable first time racing on my bare feet.
