Don’t ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.
~Howard Thurman
Human beings are amazing critters with amazing stories… each and every one of us. We are all on a unique journey, trying to form the best version of ourselves, step by step, in a never-ending parade of potentials, new heights and insights. And the vehicle of our journey, the veritable temple of our being, is our body. And what a body! What a marvelous work of ingenious complexity, so capable, so well suited for the world in which we live… or so it should be.
Anyone who has read Christopher McDougall’s book Born to Run, an all-time bestselling book on running, already knows a great deal more about me than they probably care to remember. Chapter 25 starts out with the infamous line: “Barefoot Ted was right, of course.” But what was I right about? For me, the solution for finding the path forward in my running required getting rid of the shoes and learning how to operate the original equipment. It required re-examining my roots, both literally and figuratively.
I grew up mostly barefoot. I explored the world barefoot. I even wore clothing that had bare feet embroidered on the chest! The bare foot had always been my first best choice for outdoor adventures from my childhood on.
Growing up in Southern California in the 1970s had some rare benefits. The formative period of my life was filled with images of hippies and surfers, of Nature Children and a sense that the simple things in life are not so much about what we own, but rather where we are and what we can do. The beach and beach life always rose to the top of ideal locations to just be. Next, the mountains and the paths that went on forever. Wild nature and all her majesty were always regarded as the supreme good, and the legs and feet the primal vehicles to explore the world.
On top of this, I had a truly remarkable grandmother whose magnetic personality and grand vision of the good life had everything to do with turning her modest suburban yard into orchards of paradisiacal proportions: avocados, pomegranates, figs, oranges, lemons, guavas, plums, etc. Sunlight, water, bare feet and love combined to create an endless harvest of the best things in life: living food. At the core of her being was a deep pride in the Choctaw Indian blood she inherited from her cherished grandmother. She made it clear that this combination of native roots was to be regarded as the part most valuable, the gift of the best my ancestors had passed to me. I paid attention to her when she spoke.
The trajectory of my life set me up for a unique approach to mastering the art of running long distances. In 2003, I was on the verge of turning 40… and my mind was occupied with a promise I had made to myself 20 years earlier. In 1984, I attended a party for the 40-year-old son of a U.S. Senator who ran the Los Angeles Marathon as a birthday challenge. I was impressed and thought I would revisit this concept as I got closer to 40.
During the years between 20 and 40, I made small forays into the art of running, but one hour was always my limit. I was never overly exhausted exactly; rather, I could not handle the building pain in my feet, legs and back. I was dumbfounded. How did those people go farther? My quest endured, but my experiments in running were not working out for me. After exhausting nearly every avenue of running technology, I was about to give up. I was certain that some newfangled running shoe would help me transcend my personal limitations. Yet, one hour remained the limit.
My solution came with a leap of faith in late 2003, but the outcome proved to be superlatively perfect for my own goals. I took off my shoes and rediscovered the light, quick and smooth motion that truly efficient runners know. If a foot has been trained through years of exploration and use like mine had been, the foot alone can do amazing things. And when I learned that I could master a way to run better, smoother and more joyfully without shoes, I knew I had to share it. At the time, hardly anyone imagined it possible. My generation had been conditioned on the idea that the human foot was by no means prepared to handle the stresses of running without help or support.
As in my youth, this “No Trespassing” sign did not stop me from experimenting. When I found that I was able to run smoothly and light in my bare feet on hard surfaces, I was overwhelmed with excitement. As I studied the history of modern running, I started to see athletes pop up from the not-too-distant past who had been barefoot at elite levels. A whole new world was opening up to me. And as I studied more about our shared ancestors and their primal capacities, it became crystal clear that we as a species were, simply using our default equipment, the preeminent long-distance running animal on the planet. The bare foot was a marvel. It was one of the most important survival tools that we had inherited.
Yet clearly the bare foot was not ideal in every situation, not the perfect solution every time. Humans had also been clever about inventing things to help them go farther and do more. That’s when I started studying what I call the natural selection of footwear in human culture. My curiosity was piqued when I found that humans all over the planet had solved the problem of footwear in many different ways, but most paid homage to the foot first. This led me to seek out places in the world where the most basic and ancient of footwear, the simple sandal, was still being used in daily life. I found them!
My dream to find a living culture of sandal runners led me down into the Copper Canyon of Chihuahua, Mexico, in 2006 to meet and run with the Tarahumara tribe, the Rarámuri, considered to be among the greatest long-distance mountain runners in the world. It was on this trip that I first met Caballo Blanco, Luis Escobar, Scott Jurek, Eric Orton, Jenn Shelton, Billy Barnett and Christopher McDougall, whose book highlighted the experiences we all shared in those deep canyons. It’s also where I first met Manuel Luna.
That meeting changed my life. It inspired the creation of a sandal company and the introduction of sandal running to a much wider audience. Today, like surfers making surfboards, we make LUNA Sandals in our own factory. We take pride in keeping alive the art of sandal making, and we celebrate with our fans all over the world the simple joy of running free!
— “Barefoot Ted” McDonald —