Run Like a Ninja

Alternate titles for this post:
"Silent but Deadly," "Light in the Loafers"

There was one piece of advice I kept reading when I dabbled in barefoot running: Don't let your feet slap on the ground. Slapping equals too much impact, equals pain. In other words, Run Quietly.

November weather in Ohio is not conducive to running barefoot, so I have shelved that personal experiment until spring. However, just because I'm back to being a full time shod runner doesn't mean I have to abandon the lessons I've learned.

When I couldn't bear to go barefoot, I tried to make my running form and footfalls in shoes match that of when I ran without shoes. However, I soon learned that was difficult. Most modern running shoes are designed with a high heel, which forces your foot to land differently.

I became consumed with trying to land a certain way, forcing my form so that I felt tense and uncomfortable during my runs. After 10 months of injury-free running, I started to notice pain in my knees and other leg joints. Something was wrong, but I couldn't figure out what. But then I opened my ears.

My feet were clopping louder than a donkey's hooves, I noticed. Have you ever been told to listen to your body? Sometimes that means literally, listen with your ears. I could hear the bad impact of running.

An epiphany: Shut up, feet.

I don't need to land with a particular part of my foot when I run; I just need to land quieter, lighter. That is the true key to injury-free running. Diminished impact equals diminished damage.

Now when I run, I try to be as silent as possible. I try to sneak up on people. I imagine I'm a stealthy ninja gliding into a room to eliminate my opponent with an equally stealthy judo chop. Because you never hear the best ninjas coming. It isn't their strength or martial arts mastery or even the array of weaponry that makes ninjas so lethal. It's their silence that makes them deadly.

But sometimes, it just takes some wicked awesome choreography.