Walk Like an Egyptian

I walk funny. Such has been observed, sometimes as complement and sometimes as insult, for years. The earliest complement I recall happened when I was working with guys from Touche-Ross (Boston), right out of grad school (1973, or thereabouts). One asked me how long I'd been studying karate. I hadn't said that I was, but I had been for about 6 months. I asked what led him to the conclusion. It turned out that it was my gait.

In high school, the response was somewhat different, along the lines of fruityness. Now, I'll admit to having a preference for hot dogs over tacos when it comes to food, but just the opposite when it comes to activities Sybaritic. Interpret that as you will.

The whole thing traces back to being a Boy Scout, around 1960. The Boy Scouts back then weaved in a good deal of "Indian" lore. One of the Indian practices involved how they moved through the forests. Specifically, how the feet should be held during walking and running. Most folks, especially girls who've spent time in ballet lessons, walk with toes splayed out. Donald (or Daisy) Duck in motion. Not so for the Indian; foot is exactly straight, either walking or running. The explanation in the Handbook was that walking with straight feet saved some number of steps per mile. I trained my feet to point straight ahead. I guess that led to some anomaly in how my gait looked.

That time in Boston wasn't only in karate academy (so he called it), but also running on the indoor track at the Boston YMCA. I ran barefoot, although I guess that wasn't within the written rules. I got spoken to occasionally. I still ran barefoot. Running barefoot required a different form from usual running. The fat running shoe had come into existence, so the common way for runners, especially distance runners, to stride was heel first. I never liked that; too much shock up the leg, shoes or not. Barefoot runners could never do that, anyway. The barefoot runner strides onto the ball of the foot, and releases some weight to the heel as the opposite foot moves forward. It takes more energy to run to the ball of the foot, since the heel stride allows the runner to "fall" onto the foreleg. Since I wasn't interested in marathon running, generating the extra oomph wasn't a problem.

Ball strike running encourages that straight foot form, as well (you want to land first on the knuckle of the big toe, that's what it's there for, then roll through to the arch). Fit very nicely with my zeitgeist.

What in the world compelled me to type all this out? Today's Times magazine has a story about Tarahumara Indians and barefoot running. Seems that what I'd learned from the Boy Scouts 50 years ago, and how I'd run 40 years ago is now Cool. While having nothing to do with Keynesian economics, yet another demonstration of my humble ability to foresee the future. Now, that's cool.

(I read this in today's Times Magazine, dead trees division. Looking for the link for this piece revealed that the author of the article has been writing about this topic for some years; even has a book. First I'd heard of it.)