Foot Readings
I went out for a run in Prospect Park sometime in February. It had snowed one or two days before, and I assumed the main loop around the park would be paved. It was not. It had turned into a precarious blend of thin ice with patches of crunchy snow and some clear road intermingled between them. The morning sun hitting the ground made it precariously difficult to tell which surface was which.
I wear trail running shoes so they have decent traction. They’re also minimalist shoes — minimal padding, arch support, and heel lift. That means I can generally feel the ground underneath me pretty well. I felt prepared and was in a good mood so I decided to go for it.
Immediately, I noticed how differently I carried myself while running. My foot strike felt different, my breath felt different, and by the end of the park loop, I was exhausted in two ways: mentally from having to constantly pay attention to where I was placing my feet, and physically. The stiffness in my knees and upper back made me feel like I hadn’t moved in days. The tension I was carrying in my body was very clear and while I hadn’t expected it, it made total sense.
Do you remember how you’ve felt when walking in snowy/icy conditions? The body tenses up as we become really, really careful about how we place our feet on the icy ground. At the essence of this physical response of tension is the fact that our body doesn’t trust its environment in that moment. Our feet are (usually) our only sources of contact with the ground when doing daily life things. They communicate to the brain and the rest of the body what they sense from the ground to help us stay upright and to be able to continue the task at hand, whether it’s walking or picking up a heavy box.
The better one’s feet can sense the ground, the better the lines of communication will be. How can we train our feet to sense the ground? For starters, continued exposure to various surfaces is key. In addition, varied types of movements help our feet get exposed to plenty of options for navigating the environment and strengthen our brain-body communication system. The more accustomed you get to various surfaces and movements, the more comfortable you’ll be. If you’ve never walked on ice before, you can bet your body will tense up much more than someone who’s used to it from winter after winter up north. My feet are NOT used to running on ice and my body understands that right away. My entire body was engaged in a way that was protecting me from falling and the tension built up significantly over the course of the run. Conversley, when I go on a hike, I’m quite comfortable on a rocky trail. I’ve hiked a lot, I tend to wear shoes that allow me to feel more of the ground, and I practice walking on unstable surfaces with and without shoes very often. My feet can “read” the ground, and therefore I (my brain/rest of body) can trust my feet. I can feel totally relaxed in the rest of my body while my feet are doing most of the heavy lifting maneuvering the rocks on the trail. The communication system between my brain and my body is strong and secure.
So. What if it’s a situation that’s not as obvious as ice but more like everyday life? What if someone is walking in normal shoes on a normal hard surface but whose feet can’t “read” accurate information from the ground? There’s a good chance the body is holding tension somewhere in order to do the job of the feet. If your feet haven’t been exposed to various textures and surfaces in a long time, your foot “readings” probably aren’t very accurate. Your feet don’t have you and the rest of your body has to find creative ways to keep you upright. It’s not as obvious as walking on ice, but arguably more important since we’re taking thousands of normal steps a day. Overtime, inaccurate foot readings can create a pattern of tension that creeps in and stays, sometimes developing into chronic nuisances such as knee, back, or even shoulder and neck pain. But as we know, we are infinitely adaptable, and we can absolutely educate our feet to better read the ground creating a system of trust between the feet, the brain, and the rest of the body that continues to become stronger.
Keep moving.