Bare foot walking, pt. 2

My feet and legs felt good this morning, so I took two more walks bare foot, one in the morning and in the afternoon, then decided to look it up. Google found some interesting stuff, keeping in mind Google can find something good to say about every imaginable health cure from eating bugs to amputating limbs.

But according to my limited research, I was correct in sensing that my body aligns itself very differently in bare feet than in shoes. This very interesting article in New York Magazine contained some references, interesting snippets, and some great photoshopped pictures of feet.

The sole of your foot has over 200,000 nerve endings in it, one of the highest concentrations anywhere in the body. Our feet are designed to act as earthward antennae, helping us balance and transmitting information to us about the ground we’re walking on.

For all I know, other areas of the skin are also well endowed with nerve endings, but after a few strolls in the back yard my arches, ankles and toes were starting to feel more alive. I wouldn't call it a tickle, but they definitely had been in prison far too long.

Try this test: Take off your shoe, and put it on a tabletop. Chances are the toe tip on your shoes will bend slightly upward, so that it doesn’t touch the table’s surface. This is known as “toe spring,” and it’s a design feature built into nearly every shoe. Of course, your bare toes don’t curl upward; in fact, they’re built to grip the earth and help you balance. The purpose of toe spring, then, is to create a subtle rocker effect that allows your foot to roll into the next step. This is necessary because the shoe, by its nature, won’t allow your foot to work in the way it wants to. Normally your foot would roll very flexibly through each step, from the heel through the outside of your foot, then through the arch, before your toes give you a powerful propulsive push forward into the next step. But shoes aren’t designed to be very flexible. Sure, you can take a typical shoe in your hands and bend it in the middle, but that bend doesn’t fall where your foot wants to bend; in fact, if you bent your foot in that same place, your foot would snap in half. So to compensate for this lack of flexibility, shoes are built with toe springs to help rock you forward. You only need this help, of course, because you’re wearing shoes.

Other articles made reference to the coolness of walking bare foot, which was true if I was in the shade, but some areas of the lawn are already dry and crusty from the current heat; other articles get close to spiritual--in touch with the earth, being grounded, etc.

Another mentioned it as a natural form of reflexology, with the manipulation of joints and tendons in the foot and toes.

"[Reflexology is] A type of massage applied to the feet to compensate for the lack of barefoot-walking on uneven ground. Small rocks and roots would randomly work with your body weight, stimulating the release of static charged channels of trapped energy linked to other areas in your body. Also stagnant blood and lymph flow is discharged as the renewal of oxygen fresh blood is supplied, stimulating tissues at a cellular level. Similar to acupressure principles, reflexology works with the body’s energy flow to stimulate self-healing and maintain balance in physical function. This technique reduces pain, increases circulation and thus relaxation." Some kind of sanctuary

I don't know about energy flow, but nothing is more boring (or hot in June) than walking or running along an asphalt road, and nothing more punishing to the knees and feet than walking long distances on concrete. At least walking in the grass is low impact and fun. I had none of the usual shin splints. The real test for me will be when I put a pair of sandals on--stay tuned.

She tried to walk home from church bare foot.