Benjamin Evans - Author

In the last few years that most simple of sports, running, has been overcome by a plague of complication, or 'accessories.' From a pair of plimsolls, a vest and a tight pair of shorts, a company such as Nike will now market over a hundred different products to the wannabee athlete in order that they may successfully perform the task of placing one foot in front of the other at speed. At any amateur running event I see them, supping on their specialist water bottles, sticking on their energy patches, programming their I-Pod playlist and making the kid with the Puma T-shirt feel bad. However, a recent movement has told us that enough is enough, that runners are becoming hampered with an over-reliance on technology and that we all should cast our synthetics into the primeval fire, beginning with our trainers. Yes, according to the current trendy attitude, we must seek to go back to nature and run in bare feet. I'm sure you've been told it already by some know-it-all down t

Running is a simple activity. As many people will tell you, when we were cavemen we were particularly good at it. You just have to put one foot in front of the other, what could be easier? It doesn’t take a modem, highly evolved brain to tell you how to do it, in fact there is no point thinking about it because it doesn't take any thought. One foot, next foot, one foot next foot, nothing more After a particularly long run it is not a case of not thinking about it, if I have gone hard enough I physically can't. The blood has drained out of my head and into my legs and simple ideas become as complex as advanced algebra. I have no choice but to think about nothing, and that it is in that mindset running becomes perfect. I can run quicker, I can run more consistently and if there were no distractions I feel like I could run forever. This is running in its purest and simplest form. So if it such a simple, primitive activity, it seems strange that in a sophisticated world we have fou

7.00 am - The Car 'I'm tired,' I say, as I step into the car. 'And we haven't even gone anywhere yet.' 'Yes,' my buddy says. 'I've had a cold all week. Still not feeling good.' 7.10 am - The Off Have I got everything? Have I eaten enough? Am I wearing the right shoes? Are we going to be late? I need the toilet, will there be any toilets? Oh God, oh God. 'I've got to take a crap,' my buddy says. 8.00 am - A traffic jam What's that pain in my thigh? Did I train enough? Did I train too much? My legs are seizing up, they're seizing up! 'Look at this lump on my knee,' says my buddy. 9.00 am - The bag queue 'Banana?' my buddy asks me. Should I eat? What I feel sick? What if I run out of energy? What if I need the toilet again? 'Can I have half?' I reply. 9.15 am - The Runners Village People stretching everywhere - bendy, flexible people. Should I warm up yet? Is stretching bad? What if I use up energy? Wh