Arms pumping, eyes scanning the ground ahead, Dean Laiti runs east on a sidewalk in St. Louis Park, his feet making a sound like scuffing sandpaper. "Right over these tracks," he shouts, making a quick turn to leap a railroad grade.
It's a Tuesday evening in early June, and Laiti, 48, a finance worker from Fridley, is teaching me to run the way nature intended. That would mean barefoot -- striding with soles directly hitting asphalt as we aim toward the downtown Minneapolis skyline.
"Watch out for that gravel," he says, pointing beside the path. He runs with feet that seem to grace the ground, callused pads contacting pavement in an almost soundless stride.
I tag behind, feet slapping, wincing as my toes tread on a medium I've heretofore reserved for rubber soles.
"You doing OK?" Laiti shouts, looking back.
Running barefoot was for many millennia the only way to get around, and the human foot-- a biomechanical masterpiece of muscles, tendons and 26 bones -- evolved to absorb weight and spring bodies in stride. When shoes did come into play, they were most often minimal, the likes of hide sandals and moccasins, made to insulate in the cold or protect skin from sharp objects beneath.
Until the mid-20th century, modern running shoes had little padding underfoot. Then Nike came along.
"The phenomenon of cushioning in running shoes is a recent invention," said Dr. Paul Langer, a podiatrist and marathon runner in Minneapolis. "We're now seeing that all the innovations pushed for years by Nike, Adidas, et al., may not be better than a naturally functioning foot."