Review : Nathan Endurance Hydration Vest

• Gear type : hydration
• Use : Road / trail distance events
• Price : 120$

Introduction
Some runners swear by their hydration packs, others resent the concept. I am one of the former, ever since I started running marathons and ultras. The reasons are multiple, but mostly because it gives you great autonomy over long distances and lets you sip your drink whenever you want, not just at water stations. Well-designed packs also feature most of the storage in the front, because you don’t want to take them off while running to access your stuff! In my opinion, packs are awesome in hot weather, “autonomy” races (without aid stations) and on very long runs.

I started running with a Camelbak SnoBlast, a hydration pack designed for winter activities and not specifically for running. Although I think it’s an awesome running backpack and I still use it on my run commutes on a daily basis, I decided it was time for an upgrade.

Field test
In comes the Nathan vest. At a featherlight 15.2 oz, it feels like you are wearing basically nothing. Any noticeable weight comes from the amount of liquid you will choose to put in it, which is up to 2 liters. The Endurance features a back pocket for storage of stuff you won’t want to access while running, 3 large main compartments (one zipped, one slip-in pocket and one with a bungee-cord closure) and 2 small other compartments, one with a Velcro flap for pills (electrolytes, ibuprofen or ecstasy - I’m not the judgmental type) and the other one with a stretchy fabric, just big enough for a gel or very small bottle (such as a “Five Hours of Energy” taurine drink).

The bladder itself is of the slide-top closure type and is held in place by a little hook-and-loop at the top. You can place the drink tube on your left or your right shoulder. The tube’s drinking end is a bite-valve that can clip onto the sternum strap.

Analysis
After wearing the vest for a marathon and several long-distance trail runs, I would never go out with anything else. The pockets are very well designed and allow you to easily carry up to 8-10 gel pouches, a cell phone (useful if you use its GPS features to track your run), folded money bills (ya know, in case you run by a sushi shop) and still get room for a couple other small items. The back pocket will fit a light jacket, arm warmers and a hat.

The stabilization system looks very weird and weak at first. Since it doesn’t feature a belt strap, you really wonder how your pack is going to sit still on your back while swinging around trail bends. Turns out it’s not an issue at all. The underarm straps are adjustable and hold the pack perfectly in place. The only strap you have to close when you put your vest on is the front chest strap. The Nathan vest doesn’t swing or slush around, it sits right where it needs to and sticks with you, not on you. The breathable fabrics of the shoulder straps and the back panel make sure of that.

One extra interesting feature is that you don’t need to take out the bladder to refill it (a non-issue, until you start running endurance events). Simply undo the Velcro top at the back, pull down 2 little zippers and you get access to the bladder’s top. Slide out the closure and it’s ready to refill. Quick, efficient and dump proof, even after hours of running.

When your pack gets dirty, simply get the bladder out and throw it (the bag, not the bladder… unless you like the taste of detergent in the morning) in the washing machine. My pack kept a couple stains from opened gel pouches I refuse to trash on the trails, but it doesn’t bother me.

Conclusion
If you’re going to opt for a hydration solution that sits on your back, dish the extra cash and get a specialized hydration vest like the Nathan Endurance. Its light weight and the quality of its design are worth every single dollar. The Endurance vest is stable, roomy for its size and very easy to maintain. One thing I specifically appreciated is the design of the bite-valve, which is easy to clean and doesn’t get moldy like other, sometimes expensive, hydration alternatives out there (FuelBelt, anyone?).

High points

• Feather light
• Breathable
• Lots of front storage pockets
• Stable on your back
• Fast and easy access to the bladder

Low points

• A bit on the expensive side
• Stuff falls off of the slip-in pocket
• Rubber gizmo under the back pocket is pretty useless

The Endurance vest on Nathan's official site

A Call To Barefoot / Minimalist Trail Runners

This is a humble request for feedback from experienced minimalist trail runners, some of which I have personally called out to, like Barefoot Ted, Daniel Dubois, Jason Robillard, Michael Sandler and Patrick Sweeney. But at this point, I’m really interested by opinions from everyone with experience. I am looking forward to reading your comments and advice.

I won’t tell you the whole story of how I got into barefoot / minimalist running, I’ve done that before. But for the sake of comprehension, I need to mention that I started barefooting to break an unending circle of injury, notably of IT Band problems. I’ve been (road) running barefoot for over two years now, with great satisfaction and success.

I rediscovered trail running this summer, while preparing for my first ultra marathon. I had somehow forgotten how incredibly better trail running is, with its added challenge and beauty, the need for constant attention and the reward of being one with nature in a very special, physical way. Awesome.

After my ultra, and even more so when I learned I would be running the Copper Canyon in 2012, I realized that my trail abilities needed to seriously improve. So I started adding at least one trail run per week, while adding to my mileage gradually. I chose trails that offer various levels of challenge, but that can all be regrouped under the category “technical”, which means they are of the “single trail” type. Not smooth, gravelled park pathways. I’m talking roots, sharp rocks, vertical drops up to 5-6 feet, rolling pebbles, riverbeds, mud pits. Below are a couple images of trails I run (Click to enlarge).

















I started hitting the trails in the same minimal shoes I ran my ultra with, the Merrell Trail Gloves. However, I quickly found they were very limited in capability, notably in terms of protection. I’d get bruises under my feet, experience severe adherence issues on slippery downhills or wet tree roots, and have a really hard time with surfaces made of sharp, protruding rocks. All these issues would get much, much worse as I would add speed to the equation.

I also had a very hard time going downhill on steep declines. This is clearly inexperience on my part, but I also think there’s more to it. After realizing I couldn’t really forefoot strike while going downhill unless I break my cadence with every step, I was advised to aim for a mid-foot landing that would allow me to use gravity to my advantage and that would stop me from hitting the ground so hard (and breaking my forward momentum) compared with my usual “barefoot” form.

So I did, and for a while, I got convinced I’d found the proper solution. I replaced my Trail Gloves with somewhat minimal La Sportiva Cross Lite and changed my downhill running technique. I gained awesome traction, a lot of confidence and I got much faster (in a mid-pack runner way, not the Patrick Sweeney way ;). All was good under the sun!

Except, Last week I did 2 hard trail runs, doubled with road trainings on the same day (the “back-to-back” technique for ultra training). My first one was 22.5km (14 miles) trail + 9km (5.5 miles) road, both at moderate pace. I took a 2-day break, then went for a 9km (5.5 miles) hard trail run (fast+technical), then went home and out for a 16km (10-mile) road run. I had to stop my road run because my knee started hurting in a way that was all too familiar – and, must I add, that I thought was gone for good. It was a slight IT Band pain. Like back in my shod days.

I gave myself 4 full days of break, then last Saturday went to a 23km (14.5-mile) vertical trail race up and down a ski resort. The knee pain came back around the summit (around the 11 mile point), and with a vengeance. When I started the last 3-mile straight downhill to the finish, the pain was really bad, I was limping and pretty much unable to run decently. Under other circumstances, I would’ve quit altogether. Anywho, I finished the race, but now my knee’s bad. And it’s IT Band.

This makes me think it’s a warning of overuse AND a sign of bad running form (probably a bit of both), coming from my intensified trail training / volume and the changes in my technique. I feel a little depressed, and back to square one. So while I ice and whine, there are many questions I want to ask you :

• Did any of you experience similar issues?
  
  
• Do you think this is maybe an “adjustment” my body’s doing and that it just needs time?
  
  
• Are there barefooters / minimalist trail runners out there running shod part-time? What shoes do you use?
  
  
• What do you specifically recommend I do, when I get back on the trails, considering the above context?
  
  
• Am I the only one to think “performance” trail running on technical, single trail courses is impossible barefoot and extremely tricky / risky in minimalist footwear? (Also note : I’m from Canada, with seriously cold falls and winters)
  
  
• For a barefooter / minimalist runner who gets injured the minute they wear shoes, what is the proper downhill running technique?
  
  
• I am used to training volumes of 40km (25 miles) to 85km (53 miles) per week, on road. What should be my volume on trails?
  
  
• Considering my ultimate goal is the Copper Canyon Ultra next March, do you have any other advice for me?

I hope I provided enough details for all this to make some sense. I also wish this can bring an interesting debate and stir ideas around a little. I find that there’s an overwhelming number of barefoot/minimal/whatever shoes that have gone out recently and pretend to be trail runners while they are far from it.

I will come back often and respond to your feedback. Thanks a lot for your time and help!

A New Look And A Mission

A New FlintLand

After almost 2 years of Flintland, I thought it was time to refresh things a little bit so I am proud to present you with the new look of the site. As the readership grows and the exposure rises, I felt the change in aesthetics should reflect the change this blog has undergone since its humble beginnings.

I hope it will please you and make you return here often. It's always nice to know you hang around :)

The "Contribute To The Dream" Campaign

A couple weeks ago, I announced that I will be running the Copper Canyon Ultra Marathon in 2012, one of my life's greatest dreams. Additionally to running with the people who have inspired me to run free, I will get an exceptional chance to try and make a difference for the Raramuri People of the Canyons by bringing donations directly to them for local projects. I have already sent a sum of my own, and now I am inviting you to Contribute To The Dream. Please spare a couple dollars to help the dreamer and his dream!

Click here to donate today!

Shod, Barefoot : A Runner’s Manifesto

I am growing increasingly annoyed with the current so-called "debate" between the proponents of barefoot running and the advocates of high-tech shoes, supports and orthotics.

Just this morning, coming in to work after my running commute, a co-worker who saw me in my bare feet asked “So, is THIS the new fad everyone’s talking about?”. I had to strongly resist the urge to answer something along the lines of “The fuck would YOU know”, being well-aware that the dude was only trying to strike a conversation.

But the fact remains: going barefoot is a high-profile statement.

Aside from the unexplainably strong reactions from some people seeing others in their bare feet (what’s the difference between that and flip-flops, anyway?), I don’t think barefooting is so extreme that it has to become some sort of religion, a strictly exclusive choice that makes everything and everyone else in disagreement an enemy.

Taking off your shoes and discovering the world without soles under your feet is a great feeling and a liberating experience for sure. But it’s not something you do against shod people, who in return certainly don’t have to antagonize you for it either.

I don’t know what’s up with some people on either side of the topic, but I’m not liking the “If you’re not one of us, you’re one of them” mentality that has seemed to spring over the last couple months.

In an attempt to set my record straight and in the greater interest of free running, I feel it’s time for me to take a stand.

I’m not a barefooter. I’m a runner.

I don’t need to belong to any other community than the one of those who run. I can’t care less if you run in shoes, in Vibram FiveFingers or on your naked feet. All I care is that you go out often and enjoy being your own means of locomotion, connecting with the environment and letting go of pretty much everything else in life than the sound of your heartbeat.

As a further means to stay away from labels, I even started calling my own technique “Holistic running”. As of today, I’m the only person in this movement.

We don’t have to argue

People, seriously. Some of us run barefoot and are amazing at it, and some of us run in thick, expensive running shoes and are amazing at it. That’s great! There doesn’t need to be only one way. Why can’t we look at barefooting as just another take on the great activity of running? Let’s celebrate what unites us, not pick on our differences.

I steer clear from dogma.

Whether it’s about worshipping a God and rejecting anyone else who thinks otherwise, wearing a single style of clothing and hanging out with only similarly-dressed people or eating strictly one diet without ever tolerating the sight of other food, I try to distance myself as much as I can from dogma. Barefooting, or shod running for that matter, aren’t exceptions to this rule of mine.

I run barefoot.

Each time I go for a run in my bare feet, I’m taking a course in proper running form given by my own body. I connect strongly with the ground and the environment and I’m reminded that the way to run light, long and free is to hit the ground with the least possible impact while standing straight and relaxed.

I run in shoes.
I enjoy the rock plating under my trail runners when I bomb down a steep hill topped with sharp, unforgiving rocks. I’m thankful to be able to head out when I put on my Gore-Tex runners in the winter and don’t suffer from frostbite. I love to commute to work in minimalist footwear that makes me feel like a fast urban beast. And I have to say I love putting on my “marshmallow shoes” the day after a tough, long run, when my feet are still sore.

Everything is NOT always better without shoes.

I’m not Barefoot Ken Bob. There are things this amazing man does that I can’t do. When I do renovation work, I wear steel toe boots. If this statement holds true for the safety of my feet, so does it in less-dangerous settings like technical trail running or urban commutes over unpredictable sidewalk hazards.

I also happen to live in Montreal, Canada, where winter isn’t only a colder version of fall. It gets extremely frigid up here and I don’t think anyone else than Wim Hof would make it to the corner of the street in their bare feet in February. For us Canadians, barefooting is sadly a seasonal activity that has its limitations.

With that said, I don’t think motion control and orthotics are the answer

How could things that restrain you physically make you stronger, healthier? That’s not how our bodies work. If you over-support a part of your body and suppress its movement or render its actions useless, it will weaken and fail you even more. I have become convinced that the only way to run healthy is to train properly and gradually, by stimulating our bodies and giving them time to recover, while making sure we have a proper, natural, well-adapted form.

It’s about your feet.

The whole barefoot / shod issue is not about one thing being perfect and the other one being evil. It’s about your feet, your body and your health. What the barefoot movement has brought is a better understanding of the workings of the running body; let’s all benefit from it, whether we wear shoes or not. I think at this point, we can all agree that a light, forefoot strike with your feet under your hips will benefit your running form and help you keep injury at bay. The rest isn’t that important.

I am not telling you what to do.

I took off my shoes about two years ago and started experimenting with barefoot running. I benefited from that in numerous ways, starting with the end of my injury cycle. I also became much faster, gained great endurance and overall health. But all this doesn’t mean I pretend to know anything or think everyone should do it. If you want to give it a try, go ahead. If you don’t, that’s fine, too. Really. If you are enjoying some good, injury-free running, by all means, keep doing what you do!

So what, now?

Well, I guess all I’m saying is the whole barefoot / shod issue needs to go. It’s not productive and takes away from what’s really important. It doesn’t matter what we put or don’t put on our feet, all that matters is that we thrive to enjoy free, happy running.

We’re all runners. Let’s focus on the really interesting things, like proper form, various nutrition strategies, interesting outings, running techniques, stretching, awesome stories and so much more!