While this tale called life is continuously unfolding around us, let’s set the scene to several years ago, finding ourselves along the rugged and rocky shoulder of Plymouth Mountain, located in the southern White Mountain’s of New Hampshire.

For years, I had been trail running and hiking in zero-drop sneakers, a brand which does require mentioning here, but has hitherto become the “standard” thru hiking sneaker for many, becoming synonymous with the trail and ultra running scene. Early into my own journey of pushing mileage and seeking more elevation gain, I assumed the wider toe box and notion of wearing zero-drop sneakers would somehow place me in the top tier of trail runners - as if it would somehow help me become “better” at trail running an 19-mile Presidential Traverse, which is a popular endurance feat of my home mountains.

Some sources will tell runners to make the transition from traditional footwear to zero-drop (millimeters of height variation from heel to toe) running shoes a gradual switch - not me; I got my first grey and red pair out of the box and immediate knocked out a twenty three mile dirt road run. It was as if my feet could now burst to life and fully breathe, splaying out the way nature had intended. I had no repercussions from that initial run; no strain, no pain - I only wanted more miles in what felt like slippers on my feet. Unfortunately, however, over the next several years of trail and ultra running, I (as well as many other users) noted the durability of this brand decrease astronomically. With bouts of immense frustration, I would watch friends throw away this other brand after wearing out, and tearing the fabric of their wide toe box after only 30-miles, only to later stubbornly invest in another pair - with high hopes, but finding obviously, very similar results. It seemed, not even spending more hard-earned money on this brand’s high-end shoes would result in a longer lasting product. I was beyond frustrated - plus the traction downright sucked with this brand, especially in any wet conditions. I, along with many other trail and ultra runners were crying out for something better; a shoe which could withstand even one rugged round of a 32-mile “Pemi-loop”.

*Sunrise from Plymouth Mountain, moments prior to the boulder incident*

For years, I have whole-heartedly believed that everything happens for a good reason, and always at the right time in our lives - perhaps we just cannot see in the moment how an event will benefit, or altogether change the course of our lives.

While mountain running early one morning with a friend (Chris: click here to read all about him), we had the idea to bushwhack to a minor peak off Plymouth Mountain, something we had done dozens of times together. On this particular morning, with me setting the route and pace, I descended a small boulderfield only to find out that stepping off one massive rock had set it in motion - a hasty topple out of the earth let it run over, and pin down my left leg.

Without even thinking of my next move, I focused every ounce of my fading energy to retract my foot out from beneath this hefty rock. The back of my calf appeared to have been shredded by a hungry cougar, from the massive chunk of granite. I was in shock. Turning to Chris, who witnessed the entire event, the sight of my best friend began to fade: vision blackened and narrowed to a pinpoint, all extraneous sounds became hushed as the internal sound of my heartrate was like a thousand banging drums within my head. “I need to sit”, I remember muttering to Chris as the sensation of lightheadedness enveloped.

For several minutes, I looked at my new, shiny red wounds and wondered how I could proceed down the rugged mountain. With the help of Chris, and two stout maple branches he had procured for me, I was able to hobble out the 1.5-miles to a different trailhead. I slumped over on a rock and he ran several miles the other direction to retrieve my Subaru. I had spent much time running and hiking in the White Mountains of New Hampshire, taken many slips and tumbles, but nothing ever this severe - I was living out a nightmare that I could not wake from.

Arriving home, I was unsure of my bipedaled future, but this is where my healing adventure begins. I threw every natural remedy at my foot that I had in my arsenal - and, more than a year later, I am happy to report that both my calf and foot muscles have made a full recovery.

*Autumnal sandal trail running for recovery*

But, initially recovery was ultra-slow: a 24-hour, 365-day effort; however, there was no time to waste, even resting was made fully intentional. Once I could begin to wiggle my toes, that’s all I wanted to do - freedom in movement - it was progress, albeit incredibly slow. Daily, I could sense small bits of forward progress toward getting back on both feet. I craved the sensation of recovery - day by day, I could wiggle my toes more and more, eventually making and holding a “fist” with my toes. Healing, to me, was simple: push as hard as I safely thought I could. Move that pooled blood around, then let it rest, rest, and rest some more, generally, I’d elevate against the wall in my apartment as the cats probably wondered what this human was up to. Meditation sessions began during these wall sits, during these precious moments I would imagine entering my damaged foot, as if to move fluids around and visually imagine myself fixing and patching tissue back together - something I had heard about on a podcast long ago.

Surgery, in my mind, was an absolute last resort. Mentally, I refused to be cut open - I thoroughly believed my body contained the power to heal itself. It had healed from so many illnesses and lacerations in the past - I knew my body was brilliant, I just wanted to see what it could do without external interference.

The road to recovery was incredibly painful (both physically and mentally) and excruciatingly long; I watched my friends venture out to do the mountainous things that I craved so badly, yet I knew my body needed to conserve all energy for this delicate recovery process of rebuilding. Day by day, only when I felt ready, I carefully applied increasing amounts of pressure onto my foot; like a healing scab, it itched incessantly from the inside. I could hardly believe when the connections within my foot wanted to fire once again! While white-knuckle gripping the kitchen counter, I would stand there for as long as I could tolerate: apply pressure gently and slowly, release - again and again, until I could sense it was time to go back to elevating, resting and hydrating.

*24-miles of sunny sandal running on the Island Rail Trail in Vermont*

The weeks had passed, but healing had been good. The grotesque bruising was slowly (very, very slowly!) being reabsorbed and discarded by my body - during this, I knew to stay well hydrated, often preferring mushroom teas to just plain water; to afford the best chance of recovery, I filled my body with the best nutrients and whole foods that I could find - in my mind, I only had one chance at this recovery process.

Tears overwhelmed me initially; every time I would step onto the old soccer field where I had based my recovery, the earth was soft, inviting and forgiving. Before long, my staggering limp had become a grueling 28-minute/mile pace. Every day, I gave recovery the full attention it deserved - this was, after all, my only chance to try this on my own terms - and whatever I was doing was getting me back on my feet (if it did not work, I’d succumb to the knife). Naturally, healing is never really performed alone; Alanna played a significant part in allowing me to heal on my own terms; she was more than accommodating, often sacrificing her time to feed, hydrate, listen to me complain, she was a shoulder for me to cry anytime I felt hopeless. She and Chris were integral to the daily progression of my recovery, and for that I am eternally grateful to these two.

Along the soccer field, I began barefoot; a slow walk with no crutches soon became a light trot. Each day, I could not only feel the healing progression but I could visually see the stats recorded on my GPS watch, and know that, even if only a second per mile faster, movement felt increasingly smooth, and I felt in my heart that progress was constantly being made in the right direction. I recall seeing the first time I “ran” an eighteen-minute-mile around that earthen field, I cried out of joy; I cried because weeks prior I never thought I would walk again. I cried heavy tears of joy, and it felt like the best form of magic.

Over the weeks, I diligently continued barefoot running - this (grounding) was something I had never tried earlier in life, but had always wanted to explore; as mentioned earlier, I threw every natural remedy at this healing process that I could recall from my prior years of research. Each blade of grass that tickled my bare toes made me feel more alive, more connected to something bigger - the soil beneath my feet charged me. I had never been so determined to achieve a goal; a simple goal for so many: I only wanted to walk again.

When the time came to move my slow trot onto other surfaces, I worried for my toes. I worried for sticks and stones which could poke and disturb my still-healing foot tissues. Having taken a tip from an ultra-running buddy over on the west coast, he had been running mountainous terrain, with significant mileage for years in sandals. Assuming this could be a way to continue my “barefoot running” on varying surfaces, such as a rail trail or an earthen forest road - I was inevitably introduced to Xero Shoes.

Having never ran in sandals, I envisioned something like Crocs flying off my feet, or getting stabbed by pebbles underfoot - I wasn’t sure if sandal running was for East Coasters, like me, especially for a guy with a damaged foot!

While on sale, I picked up my first pair of minimalist sandals (they naturally have a zero-drop), the Z-Trail EV. Fresh out of the box, I was pleasantly surprised with just how light these adventurous sandals were. The soft strap material was just what my recovering foot needed: cushioning, yet sturdy, and impressively durable construction; once tightened and secured into place, I have never had the straps loosen during any trail runs of any distance, even when wet the straps stay locked in place.

Sandwiched layers of “BareFoam” on top (against the foot) provide a surprisingly soft footfall landing, as the “TrailFoam” layer on the far bottom helps to dull or eliminate any sharp sensations of stepping on small rocks or gravel while enroute.

As I cannot step out of my recovery process for even a minute of my day, I wore my new Xero Z-Trail EV sandals everywhere - I was hooked! Trail running for healing, grocery shopping and any daily errands for movement, to ensure I kept the fascia of my foot pliable, healthy and full of circulation.

During the summer of 2023, Alanna and I were fortunate to be awarded the Live Your Dream grant from the American Alpine Club and The North Face, to attempt a climb of Mount Ritter in the Sierra Nevada mountains of California. All of my recovery and training thenceforth all culminated into stuffing my foot back into my alpine mountaineering boots and crampons.

*At the base of Mt Ritter in the High Sierra Mountains*

My favorite, light-weight recovery tool obviously accompanied me into the High Sierra, allowing my feet to flex and naturally feel what was beneath them as we would take brief strolls to filter water, or explore around our high camp. It is safe to say, these Xero Z-Trail EV sandals are here to stay in my life, I have found no trouble in progressing my slow “recovery trot” to both ~7minute/mile speed excursions, and more casual 30+ mile rail trail runs. The strength has fully returned to my foot and calf muscles - no doubt, thanks to the construction of Xero sandals, protecting my feet, while allowing natural movement, using muscles that would otherwise be muted by thicker soles. I do not believe I would have received similar results in my healing from a more “cushy” sole, as I see most sandals with an inch layer of foam underfoot - I’d take my minimalist sandals anywhere, any day, and in any weather! Yes, I have even found myself jogging through brief stints of ankle-deep snow since my injury - such is life, here on the East Coast!

My appreciation of what Xero Shoes is doing currently does not end at their line of sandals, they have collaborated with the author (and his running coach) of one of the most impactful books I was fortunate enough to pick up and read during my long road to recovery: Born To Run, by Christopher McDougall.

*Easy Xero sandal miles in the Redwood National Forest*

Based off Xero’s new and improved Mesa Trail II, the Born To Run edition has been grippy on all surfaces where I have taken them for a ramble, whether on trail, gravel, asphalt, or wetter conditions. All of Xero’s shoes feature a wide toe box to help our feet sense, adjust to, and push off the ground beneath. It has been remarkable to observe a natural transition of my own, landing more on the forefront of the foot, as opposed to heel striking, which I recall sensing from my old, traditional running shoes. For me, I have noticed that, over the long haul of an 18+ mile trail run, by not landing on and striking my heel, I utilize my medial longitudinal arch and massive Achilles tendon as a spring, to absorb and push off - using much less overall effort and energy to place repeated steps for hours.

While I cannot try to reiterate all the testing and reports that Xero has graciously provided on their website, I encourage anyone interested in learning more about Xero’s innovative footwear, to visit their website, and watch a few YouTube video’s they offer, and really see what they are bringing to the zero-drop running shoe game these days.

It is safe to say, Xero Shoes is now my go-to trail running shoe and sandal - with a sole warranty of 5000-miles, it is hard to say when I’ll need to purchase another pair of Z-Trail EV sandals, as my original pair from early 2022 are showing minimal signs of wear, they have been well loved all over the United States and have seen innumerable types of terrain. The Mesa Trail II sneakers are only just being broken in, I look forward to lacing those up each day, and after weeks of daily running, also show minimal signs of wear! The excitement of wearing Xero shoes and sandals makes me wonder if I’ll soon make the commitment to attempt breaking my personal record of 186-days of running at least 4-miles daily (never had an injury during that span!).

*Testing out the grip on the Mesa Trail II*

Of course, I’d recommend checking out the 71,000+ Five Star Reviews listed on their website, raving about their footwear - durability and comfort being the most frequent praise I have found, but, for me, knowing that the company has hitherto given $52,000 to the Tarahumara Children’s Hospital Fund, I will always feel good stepping into my Xero sandals and shoes, knowing I am also helping others around the world.

To get started trekking in Xero Shoes, their website offers a quick and easy questionnaire to ensure you get started in appropriate footwear, for any of your favorite activities, whether hiking, trail running, road running, water sports - they even have beautiful, zero-drop casual shoes for the workplace or a night on the town - most are vegan friendly, as well!

Just the other day, at 5,714’ atop Mount Jefferson in the White Mountain National Forest, I heard “how do you like your Xero’s?!” above the strong winds. So, it sounds like I am not the only sandal trail runner on the East Coast any longer!

For more info on Xero Shoes, or to try the best zero-drop sandal and shoe I have found, please visit: XeroShoes.com

Happy Trails!

Xero Shoes + Sandals

Live Your Dream