Disclaimer: These are my personal views and do not represent any organization or professional advice.
Wed, 21 Jan 2026 10:52:58 +0200
How to Barefoot
Growing up by the beach in Bayside Melbourne I was often barefoot. All Summer long, my brother, friends and I would run around town and in and out of each other's houses. Entire days were spent at the beach and the local pier where we'd jump off and swim amongst giant stingrays to the shock and dismay of tourists.
When we later moved to the city, the opportunity and possibility of being barefoot was gone and I began to wear shoes outside of the house. To be barefoot in the city was seen as derelict behavior (or in the slang of the time, "dero"). But, even if it were acceptable, the uncleanliness of the urban environment alone was reason enough to be shod.
For many years I jammed, crammed and squished my feet into pointy shoes shaped nothing like feet. Over time my feet became weak and lost their full function. Muscles atrophied, arches flattened and mild tailor's bunions formed. This happened so slowly I didn't notice.
It was when my family and I moved to Greece I fully embraced barefootedness. Settling in a rural area, I had the opportunity to ditch the shoes for the roughly ten month period where bare feet outdoors won't freeze.
Greece (outside of the major cities) modernized relatively late and many people upon seeing my unshod feet told me fond memories of a youth where they too didn't wear shoes. Of course, it was done out of necessity since shoes were expensive, and in many cases, even if they owned a pair, they were reserved for church and other special occasions.
My grandmother tells me often of her youth when she was barefoot in her village, spending hours in the fields with the animals and walking kilometres on rocky mountain paths. When at the age of ten and without telling anyone she followed her older cousin to the city, the family that took her in as a maid supplied her with her first pair of shoes.
An Auntie of mine also told me stories. In the 70s they lived without running water or electricity and of course without shoes. A raging but now dry river had to be crossed to get to the nearest town. She tells me how they could see the lights in the distance at night from their darkness and wonder about the great city.
It has become so rare to see unshod feed that I have been stopped on the street by many an old lady tut-tutting and offering to buy me shoes, under the assumption that I am barefoot because I can't afford them.
I first started taking long walks barefoot in the town and nearby fields, hills and beachside, making sure to walk over as many different surfaces as I could to desensitize and strengthen my feet. Before long, it became second nature and the conscious idea I was barefoot faded from my mind. I could again walk with ease on asphalt to the beach in the midday Summer sun without injuring my soles.
When I quit vice and started exercising, unfit as I was, I began running. My plan was simple: Run in one direction until I reached a specific landmark, turn around and run home. For each subsequent run, the landmark would be moved a few hundred metres and the process repeated.
The plan a success, over the next couple of months I increased the distance to around 6km. I did however keep injuring myself, and it would often take up to ten days before I could run again. Obviously unsustainable and risking serious injury were I to continue. The problem was twofold, 1) I increased distance and speed too quickly. 2) I wasn't running properly.
I also came to realize just how weak shoes made my lower body and affected my overall posture. Calves sore for days after runs were the reason for many a rest period. My feet would tingle due to the sensory overload caused by thousands of steps on gravel, rocks, grass, asphalt and other surfaces.
I was trying to run as though I was wearing shoes and running barefoot is very different to running shod. Accustomed to running in shoes, running barefoot felt like learning how to run all over again. The ground beneath and the impact of each and every footstep was felt and unless I slowed down and listened to my body, I was welcoming injury and pain.
Doing so, I slowed down my running and lowered the distance, with one mantra in mind: be loose and tread lightly. This was the singular focus in my mind as I ran. If I could make each step as gentle as possible, I was certain I would be able to run barefoot without issue. Over many months, my form naturally corrected itself and I could finally run without risk of injury. I knew I was doing it right when I felt better and more energized after a run than before it.
My feet are very different now compared to before I started running. Much wider, arches re-formed and the tailor's bunions largely corrected. The soles are like toughened leather, and no puncture by glass or thorns can draw blood.
July 2025 I started running at least 5km everyday and maintained this streak through to December without issue and not even a blister. Come Springtime, I will pick it up again.
To be barefoot is to be connected to the earth. It feels good and is the natural way. Our feet are sensitive for a reason, to sense the world around us. And yet, we shut them up in deforming, synthetic shoes, hiding them from the world and losing touch with it. Many people I know fear even taking off their shoes believing themselves unable to live without them even though as children, they ran barefoot up and down the countryside.
I run barefoot, because it is free. There is no need to buy anything. There are no uniforms, equipment or rules. Under the sun, in the fresh air of the hillside, I just start moving.
—Dylan Araps