Tewkesbury Half Marathon - A different kind of running goal

Yesterday I had a nice run out at the Tewkesbury Half Marathon.  My friend Tim has been targeting this race for about a year, probably from about 3 minutes after he finished last year's edition.  Originally, he was going to finally crack the 1:30 - something we've both been circling around for far too long.  Then, in December, he was diagnosed with cancer.  Within a few days, he had changed his goal to getting through the treatment and then the race.  Not long after that, I changed my goal for the weekend (usually spent playing at the Hilly 100 relay) to be making sure that if Tim got to the start line that he made it to the finish line.  His attitude to getting to Tewkesbury on race day has been amazing, but he has a weak spot at races of going out faster than he should, and I knew that as much as anything else on race day, he would need someone else's pace strategy if he was going to get around.  I never doubted that Tim would make it to the start line but I wasn't so sure he would be able to make the finish line without some company.  With some great care and a dose of good fortune, he got the all clear a few weeks ago and has been ramping up the training steadily ever since.

Pre-race was a pretty good atmosphere.  Plenty of club members turned out to support Tim.  Most would be racing as normal and then cheering him in at the end.  Others were going to run with him for a while and then see how things went (some would speed up, others would slow down).  My official job, reinforced by instruction from Tim's wife, Mandy, was to make sure that Tim finished in a fit state to enjoy the rest of his day.  My unofficial job, reinforced by the knowledge that Tim is a stubborn so-and-so and deeply competitive, was to make sure that Tim finished in a state only just fit enough to enjoy his party, and just exhausted enough to know that he'd actually raced as well as his body would let him.

The man of the hour surrounded by friendly support. (courtesy of Steve Sandalls)

The race started easily enough.  We headed for the back third of the pack to make sure there were plenty of obstacles to keep us from rushing off the line.  The hundreds of runners in front of us kept things nice and tidy for the early miles.  Tim and I were joined by Sue, Caz, Katy, and Chris, which made for a nice sociable start.  I spent a lot of time looking at my Garmin to make sure we kept down to 8:30 miles or slower, and Tim spent a lot of time looking for Mandy and their son Ben, who were waiting along the route to cheer him on.

I'll be honest, I don't much like the Tewkesbury race, and would never have entered in normal circumstances.  So, I'm pretty sure I groused a bit for the first mile or two as we made our way up the non-descript main road towards the motorway.  Once we got out of town, I lightened up as we continued to play the "slow down, there's a long way to go yet" game.  Caz and Katy eased off the pace a bit, and I made an innocuous comment about the weather that inadvertently triggered a short burst of speed.

Have you ever accidentally caused a fellow runner to engage in a monologue about something really quite dull and pointless (i.e. something not related to running, food, running, beer, or running)?  Well, at around 10K we got to hear all about how Kit Marlow wrote most of Shakespeare and how the Titanic didn't sink.  Personally, Marlow and Shakespeare are rather long dead, so I'm pretty convinced that it doesn't really matter to either of them who gets the credit / blame for creating Romeo, Othello, and Bottom.  As for ship conspiracies, they happened in the water, and I'm not a big fan of water, so I'll steer clear, thank you very much.  Anyway, you get the picture.  Tim and I gently increased the speed until we could return to our own very enlightening conversation (it may have been about running, or possibly beer, who knows?) - it was the only time all morning that I didn't tell him to slow down!  We lost Chris at this point, and I wondered if perhaps she now had a new friend to chat with.

The sun continued to shine, Tim unsurprisingly started to tire, and I continued to yap inanely as we made our way to the finish line.  We sent Sue on her way to chase down a negative split and a PB.  With the benefit of a steady first half, she nailed it.  Having done very little training during his convalescence, Tim held the 8:30 pace remarkably well until 10mi, where the course's only uphill comes to play.  We eased off for the final 3 miles, with a few short walking breaks to keep things under control.  It was interesting to watch Tim manage his resources.  Under normal circumstances, he would have been willing and able to dig in and keep close to that 8:30 pace in spite of the pain and fatigue, and I would have been quite happy to push him through the barriers.  For this one race, though, the time was secondary. This race marked his return to running as a healthy man, and doing unnecessary damage just to go slightly less slowly would have lessened the achievement. So, we ran, walked, jogged, and chatted as we pushed just enough to cross the line with the right level of exhaustion.

At the end, Tim insisted I finish next to him or in front of him.  He knew full well that I would quietly drop behind him in the final yards, and let me know that wasn't going to happen. So, we made our way across the line side by side as family and friends cheered him on.  He needed a good sit down in the shade for a bit, but wasn't so tired that he couldn't worry about some of the club who were still out suffering on the course (and later at the finish), so it seems we judged the effort about right.  For my part, I'd had a good run out with a friend and managed help him achieve his worst ever half marathon time (1:55).  Maybe next year we'll manage to pace each other to that sub 1:30.  If we do, I can guarantee it still won't touch the satisfaction of yesterday's race.

Halifax Bluebell 10mi - Nic's take on this little bonus race

For the first time in quite a while, I raced with Nic instead of heading off on my own.  Rather than guess what was on her mind while I incessantly "encouraged" her around the delightful paths of Halifax, I asked her to do a bit of blogging herself.  Sadly, I was enjoying running without a pack so much that I forgot to bring a camera - so you'll just have to believe that the weather was great and the views were most pleasant indeed.  The race was really well supported, and Stainland Lions RC did a fantastic job and the bluebells turned out in force. Nic's race report is below.

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We spent the week following Kurt’s Hoka Highland Fling in the north east of Scotland, hanging out with my family, eating, drinking, and doing lots of running.  I was particularly keen to get a few miles in, as I will be running the Endure 24 challenge in just a few weeks.  How on earth I am going to be able to run for 24 hours, I really have no idea, but I’m guessing building up my mileage will help!  I had some very pleasant runs on the beautiful, unspoilt beaches that the south-west of Scotland and Moray coast have to offer.  The longest run of my week was a 20 miler along the Speyside way, from Aberlour to Spey Bay in Moray.  The route was initially a nice flat footpath alongside the beautiful Spey, then a lovely long climb to about half way up Ben Aigen, with some stunning views down into the Spey Valley and fabulous forestry commission trails.  The rest was an unremarkable, fairly flat mixture of road and trail up to Spey Bay, which is a pretty little village with another beautiful beach.

Looking down on the Spey from Ben Aigen

I really enjoyed getting to run in different places.  I get to train in some lovely countryside, but I find that running new routes really helps me to find my running mojo when I’m getting a bit tired.  So, when we were trying to decide where to break the long journey home, from Elgin to Evesham, we decided to look for a race, thus giving us the opportunity to see a new place and run a new route.  Initially, I was going to run and Kurt was going to support from the sidelines, but he can’t resist a race and the Bluebell 10 in Halifax sounded like a good one.

We arrived in Halifax, West Yorkshire on Saturday evening, somewhat weary after a 7 hour drive and a rather heavy night out with my sister and her hubby the night before.  Frankly, I was tired, hungover and just wanted to go home.  However, we had already paid for the hotel.  We got cleaned up, and set about finding food.  We struck gold with our restaurant choice – Julio’s Italian was fantastic!  We went to bed shattered but looking forward to the day ahead.  But by Sunday morning, I was feeling really quite homesick.  I was fed up of travelling – 1300 miles of driving and 4 different beds had me yearning for home.  I asked Kurt could we just ditch the race and go straight home.  I really couldn’t be bothered with the stress of racing.  He said ‘yes dear’ or words to that effect…. So I pulled myself together and didn’t let the demons get me!  The sun was shining and, well, I am Scottish and we had already paid the entry fee.

I’m so very glad I decided to run.  As soon as we arrived at race HQ, and were in amongst the crowd of friendly organisers and runners, I felt right at home and very happy to be exploring a new part of the country.  I don’t think I’ve ever set foot in West Yorkshire before.  Unfortunately, we were a little pushed for time and I ended up spending most of my usual warm up time in the queue for the loo.  This was nice in a way, as I got to chat to one of the runners whose club puts on the race – Stainland Lions.  She reassured me that I was unlikely to drown at the river crossing at the finish!

As a result of my lack of warm up, the steep uphill in the first half-mile was a bit of a killer.  I’d run 46 miles in the last week, more than ever before, and I felt all of them in that first ascent!  The downhill came soon enough, through lovely woodland trails.  But I made the mistake of insisting we start at the back, so getting past all the runners who insisted on pussy-footing the ascent was something of a challenge.  I am pretty ok at running downhills, so the frustration was huge!  Kurt had decided to run with me for this race, partly as a recovery for him and partly so he could pace me to a better time and push me harder than I would normally push myself.  He was much better than me at bounding down the hills and passing the slower runners, but I did manage to pass lots of people by the bottom.  After the descent we joined canal towpaths for a couple of miles.  Kurt really pushed me on the flats, making me work hard and get thoroughly out of breath.  I really hated him at the time, but it was all for my own good and I knew I’d be grateful in the end.

After the flat canal towpath, at about four miles, came the infamous Trooper Lane up to the top of Beacon Hill:  570ft of climb in half a mile, up steep cobbles.  I managed to run about half of it, tapping out a rhythm while Kurt nagged and encouraged.  There was quite a lot of crowd support up the hill, which was great – everyone was in excellent spirits.  The views from the top were spectacular, looking across Halifax and the beautiful Yorkshire fells.  The next few miles were pretty hilly, with no more big climbs but lots of short, sharp climbs and even shorter (it seemed) downhills.  It was all on nice, firm trails with some very pretty views.  Kurt continued to push me, constantly telling me how well I was doing and telling me off whenever I tried to sandbag.  On the uphills, he pushed the right buttons to get me to pass people – he really knows how to tap into my competitive side.  Even though I felt like I was working really hard, I very much enjoyed the views and the friendly encouragement of the marshals.  After a week of very chilly weather in Scotland, it was also delightful to feel the sun on my skin.  I did manage to fall flat on my face at one point, running along a woodland trail where there was a thick carpet of leaves on the ground, my foot caught on a tree root and I went flying.  I’m sure it was a pretty spectacular fall downhill – I slid quite nicely on my most padded area (chest) and avoided injury, aside from a nice bruise on my knee.  Of course, I swore loudly, then picked myself up, dusted myself off and kept going.  The bluebells were in their full glory in the last stretch of woodland trail – so pretty!

The final mile was back on the flat towpath, and I was a bit fed up by then.  Kurt had been shouting in my ear for far too long, and I’d had enough.  But then came the river crossing!  Oh what fun!  Health And Safety meant that a temporary handrail had been assembled to help us down the riverbank, and a rope was in place to help us cross.  The marshal at the riverbank was quite concerned that Kurt was going to try to pass me, shouting several times:  ‘Take care, no overtaking!’ to which Kurt replied ‘I’m not allowed to overtake her, she’s my wife!’  Lots of giggles ensued, as we splashed our way across the river.  Being a shade under 5ft tall, I was a little concerned prior to the race, but I only went about thigh-deep.  The water felt fabulous and it was a great way to end a race, with the finish less than 100m away.  The crowds at the end were loud and full of cheer.  We both finished with big smiles on our faces.

Normally, I would not race a trail race.  I’m quite happy to race on the roads, and hang out at the back enjoying the trails.  If I’d been running alone, I think this race would have been no different.  But Kurt made me push myself and I’m glad he did, because this was my quickest ever trail race.  It was not an easy course – there were lots of steep hills and tricky descents.  I finished feeling very tired but on a big high, and very glad I ‘opened up my can of toughen-up’ and got myself to the start line.

The Highland Fling - my race along the bonnie, bonnie banks of Loch Lomond

The Highland Fling is, among other things, a traditional dance performed more or less on the spot while trying  not to injure oneself on some sort of sharp weaponry (mostly the weaponry thing is left out of official competitions these days).  It's a fascinating dance to watch, and I'll admit that it requires a bit more fleetness of foot than I am likely to muster anytime soon.  The uncharitable might describe it as "prancing around trying not to cut your feet off".  It is also a 53 mile ultramarathon run along the lower portion of Scotland's West Highland Way.  For those who only ever read these to look at the pictures, they're at the bottom after all the waffle.

I put the Fling on my race calendar not long after finishing the River Ayr Way challenge last year.  I really liked the fun and relaxed atmosphere of the Scottish ultra scene, and it's kind of like a local race, in a roundabout sort of way.  With the start only an hour and a bit from Nic's parents (who are super crew!), it means that with a little organisation we can mix business and pleasure.

On Thursday evening, I picked up Nic and we headed up the dreaded motorway.  Long drives always make a mess of my hamstrings, so I was keen to get the extra recovery day to loosen up.  After a bit of family time, and a trip to town to get a WHW map to replace the one I left at home (doh! #1), we headed to Milngavie (pronounce nothing like "Milngavie") to check in to the race and the motel du jour.

Registration was slick, leaving us plenty of time for the pre-race meal (a pint of rather fine beer and the perfect nutrient mix of haggis, neeps and tatties).  I was shockingly relaxed, given my normal pre-race stress-bunny tendencies.  I knew I had everything sorted out and was ready to run.  Unlike before last month's Exmoor Ultra, I was out cold by 10pm and was somewhat startled by the 4:45 alarm.

As I rubbed my eyes, I suddenly realised my contact lenses were sitting in my toiletry kit, back in Prestwick (wasn't going to shower, so why take the bag?).  Big "Doh!"  I've only done one trail run in my specs since I face-planted on my way down a hill a few years ago, partly due to the lack of vision under the line of the lenses, and partly because I was an idiot.  So, I didn't really enjoy waking up to the knowledge that I'd be in specs again (thankfully, with slightly larger lenses than the offending pair) and am still somewhat of an idiot. Still, I wasn't going to change either of those facts, so had to resolve to take downhills and tricky ground with a bit more care than usual and just get on with things.

The race start was the usual milling about.  Nic kindly dragged herself out of bed at stupid o'clock to walk down to the start with me.  The 1km walk was a great loosener, and was then followed by standing about for half an hour while I checked out the wide variety of shoes that would be on the route.  As I'd suspected there would be, there was a wide range of both road and trail shoes on display.  I would be in my Roclite 295s, sacrificing a bit of responsiveness for protection against the rocks.

RD John Duncan gave a very quick safety briefing (pretty much "If you don't have a foil blanket, get one at registration.  Have fun!"), and we lined up in our pens.  A trail race with pace pens!  It was a bit of a novelty to be in a trail race big enough for pens, but it seemed like most people used them appropriately because I didn't feel any bunching as we set off.  I chose the 11-12hr pen, since my target was "somewhere between 10 and 12 hours".  I'd learned from RAW in September, and decided to set off at a fairly relaxed jog.

It wasn't long before we found countryside, and the sun began to poke out over the hills.  All of the slow running I've been doing lately paid off as I trotted along at between 9 and 10 minute miles, depending on the direction of the gentle gradients.  With a few exceptions, the first 13 miles weren't taxing enough to justify much walking, so I happily ran my first 1/2 marathon of the day in 2 hours.  Plan A, when I entered, was to get to 40 in 8 hours and then get to the end in however long it took.  Knowing that the route would get tougher after 13, I felt on track for Plan A but had no idea how things would pan out.

The second quarter introduced a few hills at last.  The walk up Conic Hill was a welcome change. The WHW wardens had been busy in recent weeks, transforming what I'd been told used to be a wretched bog into a firm footpath.  I took the opportunity of the walking breaks to take off my base layer, with the sun giving us a nice warm morning.  Following Conic Hill, the route kept its gently undulating feel, slowing my pace now that there were some hills that needed walking.  As we approached half way, I was starting to flag a bit.  The combination of a fairly poor training winter and a busy March meant I would be running the last 30 miles on tired legs.

I completed the 1st of the day's 2 marathons in just under 4.5 hours before taking a short break at the next checkpoint. Most of the check points in this race are at visitor centers, which have the added bonus of actual plumbing.  Comfort restored, I got stuck into my 2nd marathon with renewed enthusiasm.  At around 34 miles, I encountered the section of the WHW my friend Roy had warned me about. It's basically a rocky scramble with a few roughly runnable sections.  The front of the pack can speed-scramble this with the dexterity of a mountain goat.  I was more like a 3-legged elephant on valium as I made my way across the slippery boulders.  I lost 15-20 places as the lighter of foot disappeared into the distance.  By this stage, the relay teams started to pass by regularly, adding to the number of times I stood aside to avoid blocking the path.  As I continued to scramble my way through, I kept thinking of prancing about trying not to shred my feet and decided this section was indeed reminiscent of the Highland Fling.  Although it felt like forever, the vile stuff only lasted for a few miles, giving way to the more standard rocky path that allowed some running at last.  This 3rd quarter took me a shade over 3 hours, allowing me to somehow hit my Plan A time at 40mi.

As I refilled my water at the final check point, the volunteer told me the rest of the route was "undulating" with that glint in the eye that means "hilly".  I'd studied the profile a bit before the race, and was expecting a few hills in the final quarter.  What I wasn't expecting was the marvelous combined effect of a caffeinated gel, a handful of jelly snakes, and a couple of pieces of Maggie's famous tablet (aka Rocket Fuel).  Before I knew what had happened, I went from dragging my sorry butt along the trail to a slightly faster jog/shuffle.

Hyped up on sugar and caffeine, I decided to race the final miles.  I had lost a lot of places on the scramble, and was pretty aggrieved.  I picked up a few at the check point while others dawdled, but as I ran, I started to see familiar shirts in the distance, coming back to me. Chasing, I could see where the next "target" had started to walk a hill or restarted running.  So, I focused on running a few extra metres before the walk and restarting a few metres earlier.  One by one I was able to reel in runners, using each as motivation to push that little bit harder than I really felt comfortable with.  To keep cool, I kept dipping my hat into little rivulets of run-off.  The final 12 miles took around 2.5 hours, with the final hills much smaller than I'd anticipated.

The finish was fantastic.  Nic and her parents were about half a mile out, cheering me on.  Nic decided to run the final bit in with me, which was both lovely and slightly disheartening as she found it rather easy to keep up - I tried to sprint away as she goaded me that she would "chick" me, but almost lost my lunch and decided that a sociable run in would do nicely.  With the piper playing and encouraging us to the last little twist, I ran into the funnel of noise that made up the final 20 metres and crossed the line arms aloft in 10:44 and change and a top quarter finish to complete an excellent run on a perfect spring day.

Off to a chilly start on a crisp morning

Clear blue skies were the order of the day!

Early morning sun poking over the hills

More sunshine!

Sometimes, this is a run through forest. This year, we had views of the Loch

The Bonnie Bonnie banks of Loch Lomond!

Conic Hill - with some very nice new paths!

Views from Conic Hill

More views from Conic Hill

Loch Lomond from Conic Hill

Loch Lomond is quite long, you know.

Did I mention we ran along Loch Lomond?

Hey, look!  I think that's Loch Lomond

A couple of trees near some water.

It's still there.  Are you singing the song?  I had it in my head for about 3 hours.

Mountains in the distance

Nearly at the end of the loch

Gently undulating trails as we leave the waterside behind

Snow-capped mountains in the distance.

Downhill and into the farm with shin-deep s**t.  Gotta love cattle.

Is that a kilt I see before me?  That'll be Rab Lee who I passed before he pipped me in the final mile.

Ben More in the distance

View of Ben More from the final hill.

Flat!

Ben More and Stob Binnein

Still running with half a mile to go.

Happy to have run it, happy to finish!

Shoe Review: Saucony Kinvara 3

The main players in the running shoe world have now joined the “natural running” movement en masse.  Of course, “natural running” means different things to different people, but I take the general view that it means the shoe doesn’t cause me to change my gait compared to when I run barefoot on the beach.  For the past year, I have happily raced distances ranging from 1 to 41 miles in shoes with between 4mm and 9mm drop.  However, I encountered some issues with build quality with my preferred brand, so decided to try a few different manufacturers, to see what the main-stream companies now have to offer.

My local running shop, Run Stuff, typically stocks Asics, Brooks, and Saucony road shoes, so I decided to check out something from one of their ranges.  I know Asics well, having spent 2 years with my DS-Racers.  They’re good shoes, but I got tired of the weight-saving ventilation holes in the sole providing an opportunity for even the smallest puddle to give me wet feet.  I know Saucony from my control-shoe days when I was coming back from various injuries that had left me without much form or lower leg strength, and knew the fit to be comfortable.  So, I took some new Kinvara 3 shoes out for a spin.  Here’s what I’ve found so far.

The Kinvara 3 looks fast.

Overview

The shoes are light, comfortable, and fairly rigid.  At 231g per shoe in UK9.5, these are an ideal weight for endurance training on the road.  You don’t really feel them as added weight, and they have enough structure to cope with the training mileage.

The Kinvaras don’t mess about with a load of heavy materials on the upper.  The plastic support structure is heat-molded onto the fabric mesh upper “sock”, with very little extra material around the toe box.  This means that they are snug around the forefoot, so I’m not expecting to see any blisters caused by my feet slipping around.

The EVA cushion/sole is quite rigid, which is taking some getting used to.  I’m used to road shoes that allow me a lot of flexibility, so this is a bit different.  With a 4mm drop, I can quite happily vary from mid-foot to heel strike depending on the conditions, and the foot strike is generally comfortable.  The sole rigidity doesn’t seem to get in the way of me comfortably running up or down steep hills, but I’m not sure it’s a necessary property of the shoe.  I’d prefer a bit more flex.

It’s pretty hard to judge a shoe from just training runs, so I dropped my test pair straight into a hilly 10K race to see how they’d hold up.  They survived without irritating me, so I’ve been happy to take them out regularly, since.   They’re an adequate alternative to an Asics DS-Racer or an Inov-8 Road-X 233.  After a couple of miles, I’ve found them comfortable and unobtrusive, which I would say is an ideal combination in a running shoe.

Fit

Initially I found the initial fit a bit tight around the ball of my foot, but that eased off quickly after a few miles of wear and getting the lacing tension right.  The laces are simple, traditional, flat laces.  Why manufacturers have to mess about with round laces is beyond me – they untie themselves so easily.  No such problems here.   They have stayed put on all my runs so far.

The heel on the Kinvara 3 is a bit of a bone of contention.  I’ve seen/heard reviews from fans of the Kinvara 2, complaining about the heel box on the Kinvara 3.  The Achilles notch on the Kinvara 3 is a little high and narrow, so for shorter runners or those with a history of Achilles injuries that have left the tendons a bit lumpy, these may well cause you some discomfort – especially with short socks.  For me, I find the internal pads on the side of the heel and the cutout to be quite comfortable.  I’ve had plenty of shoes that have such padding all the way around, which either irritates the end of my Achilles or gets torn out in the first 100 miles by my rather bony heels.  So, having this feature seems like a winner.

Small pads fit just above the sides of the heel to hold the foot steady

Achilles notch is slightly higher than the Brooks Green Silence

Achilles notch is a bit higher than the Road-X 233 as well, but the Kinvara heel box is more comfortable

As a tall runner with a narrow Achilles, I can say these shoes fit fine and don’t cause me any irritation at all.  But, I know others have found the opposite.  So, try before you buy.

Outsole

 You can see from the picture above and various of my other shoe reviews that I’m not normally a wearer of “cushioned” shoe.  Having been doing far too many miles in fell shoes this winter, I thought I would enjoy the extra comfort in the cushioned ride.  It has been nice to step on the occasional rock and not feel it, I will admit.  It’s also a nice change from the Road-X, and to a lesser degree, the DS-Racer, to have some triangular lugs on the forefoot to help when I take the odd muddy trail or encounter the ubiquitous playing-field finish line.  The outsole performs well in sticky mud, and doesn’t collect much as you go along.  When the going gets slippery, though, the Kinvara’s behave as any road shoe would and go where the mud leads them.

Strangely, the lugs under the big toe don’t have re-inforced contact pads.  I’m not sure about the design behind this, since I’ve never really pushed off from the center line of my foot (after all, the big toe is connected to the big muscles).  But, so far, I’ve not noticed any lack of power transfer as a result.

The sole is a bit higher than all of my other shoes, and that is presenting a few problems.  The first couple of times I ran in the Kinvaras with tired legs, I noted that I kept turning my ankle over.  Since I’m normally in shoes with half the height and a rigidity, I tend to take uneven pavements without any real problems.  But, with the hard, high outsole, the shoe seems to push me over a bit when I catch a rock or crack.  When the legs are fine, I don’t notice so much.  But on tired legs, it’s hard to get the offending foot off the ground quickly, so the ankle gets turned – a bit more than it would on a lower shoe.

So, while I get some cushion for tired feet from the outsole, it is requiring a bit of retraining to get used to it.

Overall

As a shoe, I’d say the Kinvara 3 is a good light-weight all-rounder.  The rigid mid-sole isn’t really my cup of tea. If you’re used to something a bit heavier, or more “controlling”, I expect you will love the feather-light freedom as you race down the road.  With the low drop, take your time easing into it if you have been in a more standard 10-13mm drop shoe.  Otherwise, your Achilles will complain pretty loudly.  If you are used to a bit more of a minimalist shoe, you might want to head for the Fastwitch instead, to get that flexible “racing flat” feel.