Try walking barefoot.

When I was a kid growing up in a small town in Texas, I used to walk barefoot lots of the time. The weather, especially in spring and summer, lent itself to no shoes, and the bottoms of my feet grew pretty tough over time. It was the natural way to walk, no? Of course I couldn't cross hot asphalt streets in July without risking severe burns, but most of the time I was fine traversing my yard and neighboring yards, playing with friends, shoe-less. We just didn't give it a second thought. Shoes? Why? But now that I'm all grown up and living north of my childhood, I find myself more comfortable wearing shoes. It's cooler up here (in Colorado), and most of my activities seem to require shoes. Recently I walked out to get the newspaper in bare feet and was dismayed to find that the concrete of my driveway caused real pain in the soles of my feet. I stepped on a small stone, a pebble, and had to stop. Ouch! What happened? Well, of course what happened is that I'd let my feet grow soft. I've cradled them so long in shoes that they were no longer conversant with the underpinnings of my life. I could no longer walk on the sidewalk or the driveway -- maybe not even the lawn -- without feeling discomfort. (I thought of that particular torture in which someone beats on the soles of your feet with an iron bar: I'll tell, I thought, I'll tell! What a wuss!) I've lost contact with my own feet. I used to walk all around my yard and even around the neighborhood with no shoes on and was perfectly content because my feet had developed a thick layer on the bottom that made it feel okay. I think of those African runners who regularly win marathons because they grew up running without shoes: they are one with their feet. All the Adidas and Nikes in the world can't prepare you for that! So I decided to start training myself to go barefoot again. I now walk around the house, barefoot, on carpet largely but also on hardwood floors, whenever I can. It actually does feel a little strange at first, but after I've done it a while, I start to enjoy it: the contact of toes and heel and anything between with the actual floor, even the carpet, is something different, something new and old at the same time. Not long ago, I ventured barefoot into the yard, onto the grass, and was surprised at how good it felt and how many memories it conjured. Whoa! Because my lily-white feet were so spoiled by having been shod for so long, it was like they were re-discovering the texture of grass -- so cool in the morning, warmer in the afternoon -- and hesitated to tackle something as hard as the sidewalk. Still, I walked around a while, and the longer I walked, the more my feet seemed to appreciate my effort. They really liked it! There is a new trend in running shoes that emphasizes getting back to barefoot: doing away with the thick padded soles and concentrating on almost socks, anything to get back to the way we're supposed to walk and run. I'm not sure about the product but do applaud the intention. I haven't been doing my feet any favor by coddling them all these years in shoes. I need to let them breathe, let them do their stuff, let them strut and even run, on any and all surfaces. I'm not quite there yet. The cement/concrete still feels harsh under the wussy soles of my newly un-bound feet, but I'm getting there. Lord, I remember running a race with someone when I was about ten, both of us barefoot, and we ran over not just grass and sidewalks but two or three streets, and neither one of us thought about anything but winning. Our feet were an afterthought. Nowadays, I don't think I could run a block on a real street with no shoes on. Could you? If you want to get back in touch with your feet, start by taking your shoes off and walking around your own house. Carpets or not. Then tiptoe into the front and back yards. Watch where you walk, though: all sorts of things that don't penetrate your shoes can penetrate your naked foot. Try the driveway and the walk. Eventually take a step into the street. Walk around the street barefoot. Notice how warm it is in the later afternoon. You'll come back, if not a different person, then almost certainly a more enlightened one. Trust me on this. Get to know your feet again. You'll be glad, and so will they.