Intra-national
competition, shin splints and non-innovation
I
love old photographs.
As they say, a picture says a thousand words. The above shot certainly
validates that age old statement, both nostalgically and in a way far more relative
to current athletic trends than one may think.
The
setting is at an invitational South African triathlon competition in the early
1990s, just before our readmission into international sport. Thinking back to
that time in a sporting sense, I’m always reminded of the general mood of
excitement and anticipation that was prevalent back then. Local athletes
starved of official international competition could see some light on the
horizon, the reality of which finally came in late 1991. SA sporting teams
could now tour overseas without incurring the risk of aerial flour bombs and placards.
The
two guys in the photo are Durbanite Gary van Wyk and Cape Town’s Richard
Willmore, resplendent in their then-Springbok and Junior Springbok colours respectively.
Effectively the national “A” and “B” squads, these and other invitational teams
were selected annually over the course of a few inter-provincial races,
whereupon they would meet in a season-ending “Prestige” race. This might sound surreal
today, but that was effectively the pinnacle of the sporting season, not just
in triathlon, but in most SA sports back then. Whilst other countries selected
national teams for the world championships, guys like Richard and Gary would
read about those international races in back issues of Triathlete Magazine,
comparing their race splits with the various American and Australian stars
adorning the glossy pages. Far off races in far off races, although there were
quite a few “undercover-locals”
plying their trade abroad
at the time and prior. Like Zola Budd.
Speaking
of Zola, the Free State
lass was well known for her track prowess, in particular her eschewing of shoes.
It is perhaps fitting that Zola is now involved in the local distribution of a minimalist
running shoe brand, which
brings us back to the image concerned.
Both
Gary and Richard were exceptional triathletes, possibly at the very top of
their games at the time this photo was captured. Whilst Gary came from an elite
running background, Richard’s strength was in the pool and on the bike. Their respective
talents highlighted the beautiful simplicity of the sport back then: strong
swimmers trying to hold off the gazelle-like runners in a true test of
attrition; sometimes the runner would catch his or her prey whilst other occasions
proved prosperous for the swimmer’s front-running.
But
it is perhaps their respective running forms in this shot that caught my eye, 1991
tri-athletic fashion aside. Notice how Gary’s more natural running form
includes a distinctive forefoot inclination and propulsion compared with the
more heel-centric strike of Richard. Gary’s track and cross-country background
no doubt had conditioned him to be comfortable running this way, in a pair of
the distinctive orange “racing flats” of the day. Loved those shoes and have
still got a pair (with holes).
On
the other hand, Richard’s running form indicates his swimming and cycling
prowess; more upright and less flowing, but effective to him nonetheless. His
choice of footwear is also slightly more conservative; his racing shoes, whilst
also lightweight, providing marginally more cushioning to support his larger physique.
Which
brings us to the present day and the current (or waning?) minimalist debate.
The sport of running has generally always had an element of todays “barefoot”
terminology to it; it just didn’t have a name back then, just like “running in
the forest” has evolved into the mainstream sport of trail running. In triathlon
at least, people with elite running backgrounds generally raced in flatter
shoes due to their compatibility with track spikes. This extended to their running
training, which was also quite track-centric.
Many
swimmers coming into the sport tried to mimic this approach to both footwear
and training, with generally recurring results, niggling injuries being at the
forefront. This phenomenon is still prevalent today, what with legions of
multi-sporters chasing Ironman glory via light shoes and speed work
sessions. Having run with Richard regularly in training over that early-nineties
period, I can attest to his more pragmatic approach to a discipline that was
not necessarily his strength, i.e. running fast. Whilst intense sessions did
form part of his training, it took him a few tri seasons to get his running to
a point that he could regularly clock close to thirty-five minutes for the 10km
run leg. Whilst the photograph doesn’t necessarily do Richard’s running ability
justice, it does highlight the differences in gait and form across a broader
spectrum of individuals. Needless to say that he didn’t fall into the all
familiar trap of trying to change his running form either. Rather, he made the
best out of what he had instead of trying to copy others. I really do wish that
more coaches would do that, instead of handing out much of the generic crap
that we see all too often these days.
Late
last year, I had interesting conversation with a hydro-therapist from Pretoria
during massage treatment at a mountain bike stage. Topics of conversation do
vary whilst kneading, this one being very physiology-based given the nature of
this particular athlete’s day job.
Our
chat evolved into a discussion of minimalist running shoes, with the hydro-therapist
relating how her work with soccer players reaffirms her belief that specific conditioning
is key to any sport. Many of her footballing clients, whilst exceptionally fit
in comparison to their rugby counterparts, regularly suffer from shin splints
during their pre-season training. She has determined that this recurring
phenomenon is directly related to the players early season training practice,
i.e. large amounts jogging in normal running shoes followed by a sudden switch
to soccer boots; effectively cushioned, heel-built shoes to harder, flatter
footwear. Their calf muscles are simply not prepared for this sudden
transition, often manifesting in muscle pulls and/or shin splints. These
players would no doubt benefit from regular barefoot drills on their grassy
pitches.
This
example is no different in endurance sports. Many competitive runners perform
the bulk of their training in well-cushioned, conventional running shoes, which
have a significant heel-to-toe drop. Come race time, they lace up their flatter
racing shoes in the name of speed, the lighter and more sleek footwear
seemingly essential to fast times. I personally don’t know how they do it though.
My
own quest for running competition has therefore resulted in my following a more
inverse approach. All of my daily running (read: jogging) is done in flat
minimalist shoes, effectively building up foot and leg strength whilst
observing proper form and turnover. This is only achievable by my observing a training
effort that is slower than talking-pace, i.e. very low-level aerobic. Come race
time, I use my trusty conventional running shoes, complete with standard cushioning
and protection. Racing means attaining a maximum possible effort, no matter what
my fitness level. Wearing a conventional shoe provides me with the peace of
mind that I can go hard and take the knocks, regardless of the lack of
technique that is bound to creep in during the heat of competition.
Compared
to the daily “barefoot” sensation, lacing up these more mainstream shoes feels
like putting on a pair of boots. Sometimes I almost feel uncomfortable wearing
them, but that sensation soon dissipates once the gun goes off.
It’s
amazing how one old photograph can help sum up modern-day “innovation.” I’m not
sure how innovative many of the seemingly new concepts are, footwear and
training techniques being at the forefront. Seeing Gary and Richard duking it
out in the rain does confirm one thing though: great athletes are great
athletes, no matter what the era.
Or
the footwear.