Runners have individual styles-their running “signatures”, yet improving your form can help to both prevent injuries and enhance movement economy.  There are four basic parts to good form:  arm drive, footstrike, stride, and body posture. Here are a few areas to focus on that can help you to develop good biomechanical form with the bonus of becoming more relaxed and efficient on the roads and trails.

I’d done my reading and my asking around enough to know trail running had certain benefits. Fresh air. Synapses firing because trees and rocks and streams and being like a caveman. The actualization of that aspirational rave run image: gliding in clean neoprene over an endless and undiscovered swath of trees across babbling stream on the shoulder of misty lake. All specifically painted without errant brushstroke just for me, The Trail Runner.

Plantar fasciitis is the root of all heel pain for runners and affects an estimated 15 percent of 50 million who lace ‘em up worldwide.

The plantar fascia is the taut tissue that makes up the arch of the foot and attaches the heel to the base of the toes. A burning or pulling sensation underfoot (think hot coals or a shooting pain) is a key warning sign of plantar fasciitis.

Running can be a selfish sport. Training for a marathon takes several hours away from your family each week. Long runs typically take place on a weekend when you could be doing something else fun with your loved ones. Sometimes it requires your spouse to watch your children (or in my case border collie puppies) while you run for hours on end. Then you get home and all you want to do is kick your feet up in your recliner and relax. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy running. The time I spend on the trail or road is my church, time to reflect on life. I’ve always ran for my own benefit, until this year.

I didn’t become a runner to be a part of a group. I became a runner to gather my thoughts. I became a runner to come up with new ideas. I became a runner to hear the crunch of autumn leaves, to splash around in the mud puddles, to feel the slippery, melty goodness of a spring thaw underfoot. I became a runner to huff and puff to the highest peak and look out over the ocean and watch its tiny whitecaps glance off the frame of sand.

How do you like your steak? Nice eyes or great smile? Which flavor ice cream? Snowy mountain or white-sand beach? Who’s your hero?

...What motivates you to run?

I’ve run enough now—on teams, in groups and as an individual—to understand what gets me out the door and lacing ‘em up can be, and usually is, nothing near the same as the hundreds of others brushing my shoulders in the starting corral. In a sense, it’s what makes running, and runners, unique.