Jogging

The definition of jogging (and why not to do it)

Below is the dictionary definition of "jog".  You'll see why I don't like the term.  It's a word that means to shake, jerk, nudge, push, or jolt.  There is nothing fluid or gentle about it.  Don't go jogging.  You'll be jogging your knees, jogging your feet, jogging your head, jogging your ankles, jogging your body.  Jogging is bad.  Run, chase, pursue, walk, hunt, or stalk -- anything but jog.

Hat tip to Barefoot Ken Bob for pointing this out to me.

 

jog

1  [jog]  Show IPA verb, jogged, jog·ging, noun

–verb (used with object)
1. to move or shake with a push or jerk: The horseman jogged the reins lightly.
2. to cause to function with a jolt for a moment or in a series of disconnected motions: He jogged the motor and started the machine.
3. to push slightly, as to arouse the attention; nudge: She jogged his elbow when she wanted to be introduced to one of his friends.
4. to stir or jolt into activity or alertness, as by a hint or reminder: to jog a person's memory.
5. to cause (a horse) to go at a steady trot.
6. Printing . to align the edges of (a stack of sheets of paper of the same size) by gently tapping.
 
–verb (used without object)
7. to run at a leisurely, slow pace, esp. as an outdoor exercise: He jogs two miles every morning to keep in shape.
8. to run or ride at a steady trot: They jogged to the stable.
9. to move with a jolt or jerk: Her briefcase jogged against her leg as she walked.
10. to go or travel with a jolting pace or motion: The clumsy cart jogged down the bumpy road.
11. to go in a desultory or humdrum fashion (usually fol. by on  or along ): He just jogged along, getting by however he could.
 
–noun
12. a shake; slight push; nudge.
13. a steady trot, as of a horse.
14. an act, instance, or period of jogging: to go for a jog before breakfast.
15. a jogging pace: He approached us at a jog.
 
Origin: 1540–50;  b. jot  to jog (now dial.) and shog  to shake, jog (late ME shoggen)

Barefoot running is not hardcore

The biggest misconception about barefoot running is that it's hardcore.  I'm going to let you in on a little secret: it's not.  Barefoot running is actually softcore.  Soft.  Gentle.  Delicate.  Light.  Starting to sound less macho?  I know, that's why I almost kept this to myself.

Jogging is a contact sport.  Hit the road, hit the pavement, pound the pavement, pound out a few miles.  Ever listen to most runners?  Thud, thud, thud, thud.  Injuries galore.  Knee problems, shin splints, orthotics, plantar faciitis.  Remind me -- what is so easy and painless about jogging?  Sounds pretty hardcore to me.

If jogging is for the strong, barefoot running is for us wimps and cripples.  For people who have no choice but to run softly.  To minimize pain...and effort.  To glide over the ground.  To run, not jog.  To move silently, stalk, and pursue.  To minimize impact and maximize efficiency.  Sounds pretty soft and weak.

The media always gets this wrong.  Every time a reporter wants to talk about barefoot running, it's always, "Wow, you must be sooooo tough."  As a 27-year-old male with healthy testosterone levels, it's hard not to play into this.  And I'll admit that I get a kick out of the exclamations and attention when I'm running in Central Park.  Girls always notice.  20% of the time they think it's gross, 80% of the time they starting throwing their sports bras.

An older lady stopped me on the way back from a run last week.  60-something years old -- and well, let's just say she didn't look like the athletic type.  She told me she had been running barefoot on the indoor track for a year now and loved it.

And that's exactly what concerns me -- if all the out-of-shape seniors all start running barefoot, then the gig is up.  No more babes, no more sweaty sports bras.  Can we keep this just between us?

Zombie Joggers (or, Why running barefoot makes you more alive)

Many joggers run mindlessly and monotonously.  I call them Zombie Joggers.  I used to be one.
 
Zombie joggers can be recognized by their blank stare, exhausted and hunched over posture, and a heavy-footed, plodding pace.  Their mind has drifted off to a distant place -- as if lobotomized and motor control handed over to the reptilian brain stem, issuing the same simple commands over and over:  "Right foot, left foot, right foot, left foot".
 
Here are a few reasons why joggers zone out:
  • There's little need to pay attention to where you're stepping.  (You've got shoes on.)
  • No need to change in direction.  (Don't want to twist an ankle.)   
  • Little change in pace.  (No reason to change speeds.)
  • It doesn't take any skill. (Just will.)
Running barefoot, on the other hand, forces you to focus.  Focus on where you are stepping, focus on the changing terrain, and focus on how your feet feel.  Somewhat rocky trails are awesome because they really challenge your mind and body to find good places to step.  Here comes a rough patch, slow down a bit and step lightly.  Zig zag a bit to find the best footing.  Okay, the terrain just evened out -- accelerate.  You have to focus hard, you have to BE THERE, and almost immediately you enter a state of flow.  Challenging, but achievable.  
 
Today our running group ran parts of the bridle path in Central Park, alternating between the rough trail and the smooth road.  Great contrast.  Very satisfying, very fun.
 
And while we ran, we become more aware, more conscious -- and more alive.
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