Last night, Katie convinced me to pick up a pair of these babies. That’s right, I now own a pair of Vibram Five Fingers. I remember first seeing them a couple years ago and thinking, “That’s the most ridiculous thing I have ever seen.” But the truth is once you slip them on they feel amazing.

Why did I get them? For starters, my interest was peaked by seeing a pair in good buddy Aaron Nordyke’s house. I thought, “Of course you’d buy these.” But as he began talking about how amazing they feel and how they’ve helped correct his running I became interested. Then he recommended a book called “Born To Run” by Christopher McDougall. McDougall is on the search to rediscover the lost art of running, along the way meeting a colorful cast of characters. The book is nothing short of inspirational.

So a couple weeks ago I decided to start running barefoot. I’m still rehabbing a bum ankle, but immediately I noticed that I could run a couple miles effortlessly. And there’s something so right about running barefoot. Maybe it’s the connection of your body with the earth, or the fact you can really feel what’s going on under your feet. There’s certainly something therapeutic and right about barefoot running.

There’s also something very wrong about barefoot running – nasty, nasty blisters. Katie got sick of seeing my gross feet, so as soon as I tried a pair on she convinced me to buy them. What an amazing wife!

I have always felt something very spiritual about running. It could be the parallels with Paul talking about running the race and winning the prize, or beating his body into submission. There is certainly an element of discipline. More than that, when I run the entire world shuts off. All I hear is the pitter-patter of my feet and the rhythm of my breath. My mind manages to push every thought and worry aside and God speaks. Maybe not an audible voice, but certainly He speaks through my thoughts. Ideas begin to take shape and understanding forms as I push further and further to the rhythm of heart, feet, and breath.

Looking goofy is a small price to pay for communing with God.

There are few things as funny as this:

…to put them in things like this:

One of my favorite Demetri Martin jokes is as follows:

“I think the worst time to have a heart attack would be during a game of charades. An even worse time would be during a game of ‘Fake Heart Attack’, followed by ‘Naps’.”

Saturday, I decided to be ambitious. I was going to finally build the front step I had planned nearly 2 years ago. I was going to trim bushes, mow the lawn, and make time to hang out with Kathryn. It was going to be a wildly successful day.

After a morning of hangups and false-starts, I was ready to refuel with lunch and a couple ibuprofen and hit the afternoon hard. About a half hour after eating I began to feel light headed and quite drowsy. I didn’t work that hard in the morning. Could the massive italian sandwich from Jimmy John’s be the culprit? I passed out on the couch for twenty minutes, awoke groggier than before, and was convinced to move to the bed for a slight nap.

45 minutes later, still groggy.

Another hour later, still groggy.

For the life of me I couldn’t figure out what was going on. I am never this tired in the middle of the day, and I wasn’t feeling sick. I mean, I did some light work, took 3 ibuprofen, ate lunch . . . wait. I remembered the ibuprofen I grabbed were colored blue. They’re not usually blue, they’re usually white or brown. Blue means . . . sleep aid. Turns out I downed 3 ibuprofen pm. And you know what, they really work. Within a half hour I would’ve passed out standing up.

Seriously, do not operate heavy machinery and be sure to devote enough time for a full night’s sleep. That junk messes you up.