Nature vs. Nike: Were we born to run barefoot?

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This summer, I'm finally learning how to run.

For years, I have been a recreational jogger – the combination of inexpensive simplicity and immediate endorphin release has drawn me since university days – but now I'm at long last learning how to round the block the old-fashioned way: barefoot.

Last year, I ran the London Marathon.

It was an exhilarating race (although I use that adjective loosely, given the pace that I was going) and I'm still ludicrously proud of myself for finishing.

But I have to admit that, by mile 20, my feet really hurt. I don't just mean in an ouch-these-damn-heels sort of way.

I mean each step felt like my feet were slamming on a bed of nails or hot coals or an excruciating combination of both.

Suffice to say, it was fantastically painful. It was in that dark moment, staring tearfully at the ground, that I began to notice some of the other runners around me didn't have shoes on.

Or rather they did, but not ones that I would recognize as athletic shoes.

One out of every couple of dozen runners seemed to be wearing what can only be described as foot gloves – rubbery socks with toes on them and no visible arch support or cushion.

 We're not strong, we're not limber and we're certainly not fast – Usain Bolt is the fastest man on the planet, and he can get his butt kicked by a squirrel. ”— Chris McDougall, author of Born To Run