The original pic for this article had a big bloody “vs.” in the middle, and lots of fire and explosions. But it wouldn’t be fair to declare a winner. After all, I’m not comparing apples to apples in this post; as I said before, the MR00 is a cushioned minimalist-style shoe, and the MV2 is for road-racing. I’m comparing apples to very, very apple-like oranges.

Anyway, on to the categories!

Fit

Minimus: This slipper is long and loose. It works for my feet, but a narrow-footed runner would probably find it baggy.

MV2: The ‘Squared is tight, but it has such a soft, light upper that it doesn’t squeeze or pinch. It just feels like a race-day shoe.

Feel

Minimus: This shoe makes me feel like an overweight ninja. It’s so light that I can really get a good cadence going, and so thin on the bottom that I feel every bump in the road (in a mostly good way).

MV2: The feel of the forefoot lugs creeped me out at first. It was like having a couple balls of yarn under my forefeet. But now that I’m used to it, the extra cushioning feels a lot more protective than the Minimus.

Function

Minimus: I wouldn’t recommend this shoe to anyone who isn’t ready to run minimal. Try to trudge or land on your heel and you’ll discover that there’s no soft padding to protect you. The low profile is excellent for weightlifting, however. It works for the run to and from the gym, and everything in between.

MV2: While the MV2 is inherently less stable than the MV2, it was my go-to for each week’s long run. I found its design far more protective than the Minimus.

Bottom Line: Wide-footed runners will find something to love in each of these shoes. For the true minimalist experience, I highly recommend the Minimus. For a go-fast shoe with a little extra protection, try the MV2.

Two nights ago, I woke up in the middle of the night with spasms and pain in my left knee. On the side of the knee, on my illiotibial band. The spot I injured in my last race, forever ago.

I’ve been nursing it back to health, giving it everything I thought it needed to get better. Rest, strengthening, massages, stretching, more rest. Seven months of care and it’s still not healed. I’m up to 8-mile long runs, but those end with a wobbly, tired left leg.

I’m a little frustrated.

So the other night, as I lay in the dark, massaging the leg in question, I decided it was time to seek medical help. It’s time to be a runner again.

In other words:

Now, I have a vacuum. The box it came in claims that it “removes embedded dirt and minimizes scatter on carpet.” And it does—if I first plug it in. But what if I didn’t plug it in? What if I disregarded the vacuum’s instructions and rolled it around my apartment with the power set to “off”? It sure wouldn’t remove any embedded dirt.

What if I could prove that the majority of people didn’t use the Wind Tunnel properly? Should I sue Hoover?

It’s easy to scoff at the comparison. Everyone knows electricity is required to power a vacuum, right? But I have a hard time believing that Ms. Bezdek didn’t know that barefoot-style running comes with some dangers. The Vibram site is peppered with warnings, disclaimers, instructions, and more warnings. Any good retailer would have explained to her that these shoes require major changes in running form, and that adjusting is neither a quick nor an easy process.

Working for such a retailer, I’m not surprised by this lawsuit. I’ve had to dash the hopes of many, many customers. I’ve had to explain to them that minimalist-style shoes are not magic. That they merely promote healthy form. And I’ve seen customers’ eyes glaze over when I try to disabuse them of their fantasies. People want to believe that merely buying a new product will solve all their running problems. They want to believe this so strongly that they won’t listen when I suggest otherwise. It’s little wonder that they react poorly when the product fails to live up to their expectations.

That’s why I’m not surprised that Ms. Bezdek would resort to a lawsuit. When an American doesn’t get what she wants, suing is usually the next step. What I find disturbing is how far her case has gotten.

First off, thank you all for being here. I’m glad you could make it from the shoe rack in the closet. The secret shoe rack.

I called you here to welcome a new member to our group.

His full name is MR00RB, but he prefers Minimus Zero. Less of a mouthful, you see.

I know he’s a little different. Well, a lot different. More slipper than shoe, actually. But don’t be mean to him.

And don’t be afraid, either. His presence here doesn’t necessarily mean that I’m looking to replace you all.

Unless he works well… in which case, you’re all out of here.

The truth is that, as a runner, you do need more protein than most people. In fact, you require about twice as much as the typical couch potato.

But an average runner doesn’t need as much protein as a shake holds. Muscle recovery demands about .7 grams of protein per lb. of body weight. Most people already get this much through their diet. Your chicken dinner, in addition to the milk from breakfast and the peanut butter sandwich you had for lunch, is sufficient.

Your body can absorb more protein than this in a day, but still only about 1 gram per pound of bodyweight*. Any protein beyond that point just leaves your body with urine. And if that protein comes form an expensive shake, you’re literally pissing your money away.

If you’re a runner and concerned about building muscle, where your protein comes from isn’t as important as when you pack it in. There’s a half-hour window after workouts when your body is craving carbs and protein. A turkey sandwich or peanut-butter covered banana will give it what it needs. And chocolate milk. God bless the inventor of chocolate milk.

*This excludes whey protein, which can be absorbed in greater quantities.

Now the smokestacks, the pillars that once supported the local economy, stand lifeless along the city’s canal. I would know; I spent four years running in the shadow of these decaying hulks. My college training took place in Bethlehem, and on my long runs I grew to know that city better than my home town. And though I might not cast it in the best light, I grew to love it.

That’s why I’m excited to see Bethlehem showing some signs of life. Or perhaps I should say the kind of life I care about: the kind lived on the run. Next October, Bethlehem will host a three day running festival, operated by that shaper of running culture, Runner’s World.

The magazine is actually headquartered near our O little town, but it wasn’t until the last few years that Bethlehem could accommodate such a big race. Even now, I can’t help but think of Mama Nina’s, the little Italian restaurant where I couldn’t cut my Ravioli without bumping elbows with a stranger. I don’t know if they’re up to the five to six-thousand carb-loaders this festival is predicted to draw. But it makes me happy that their food will be so in-demand.

Sat down in the teacher’s lounge and tried signing up for Broad Street. Entered all of my information, hit register button. Site crashed.

Neither surprised nor concerned. Decided to wait a couple hours and try again.

12:45 PM

Spent lunch break filling out registration form (again). Listened to friends talk about their Broad Street plans– they’re going to jog a mile, walk a mile, etc. Are you signed up yet? Are you?

Hit register button, greeted with a “PLEASE WAIT…”

1:00 PM

Walked through hallways with open laptop cradled under elbow. Waited patiently.

2:00 PM

Taught class with open laptop on desk. Checked in periodically. Still patient.

2:50 PM

Patience lost. Closed laptop and went to track practice. Resolved to try again later.

4:00 PM

Stopped for gas on way home. Read text saying that registration for Broad Street is closed.

4:05 PM

Recovered from fit of rage. Adopted philosophical approach to exclusion.

Still bummed.

Well, it looks like the science is finally here. A study published in January’s Medicine and Science in Sports and Exercise gives substance to the long-unsubstantiated claim. It ends with the conclusion that runners landing on their forefeet (as is encouraged by minimalist footwear) are less injury prone. More precisely, they suffer half (!) the amount of stress injuries. A quick, fair synopsis of the article can be found here.

So should you go out and buy a pair of FiveFingers? Not necessarily. It still takes patience and commitment to safely adjust to barefoot-style running. But this study provides, for the first time ever, real evidence that your efforts will be rewarded.

Disappointing results, if the Asics Gel-Neo33 is any indication. The shoe’s unique engineering offers certain advantages, but not the lightweight, natural ride for which it was designed.

The Feel

The Neo’s midsole may resemble that of the Nike Free, but don’t expect the same flexibility. This shoe offers little more bend than the standard Cumulus, Nimbus, or 2160. I’m hoping that this is a result of the surprisingly stiff medial post, and that the other shoes in the 33 line are a little more yielding.

But the 33-style midsole isn’t without merit. Its flatness allows it to make contact with the ground along its entire length. This means a stable, smooth ride. It also makes for great road feel.

The Look

Supercool, especially in the Blue/Limeade colorway.

The Fit

The Neo’s upper is meant to lock feet down, but it does its job just a little too well. It takes lots of tinkering with the laces to keep the shoe from pinching the bridge of the foot. This is far from the barely-there feeling that performance and minimalist shoes usually provide. Once the laces are properly adjusted, though, rest assured that they will not slip.

This shoe also seems to run a little narrower in the toebox than most Asics. Longtime Asics wearers may have to go up half a size to fit into it.

The Bottom Line: The Neo’s weight and fit lands closer to a standard trainer than the performance shoe it’s meant to be.

Three months ago, I ran my second ultra marathon. It left me with a bad case of ITBS (illiotibial band syndrome), a common injury in people who like to run really, really far. Even after three months of low-to-no mileage, I’m not much better.

It’s time for a more aggressive approach to recovery.

My ITBS recovery plan consists of four parts:

1. Use foam roller
Aggravating the IT band (by, say, running on an injured leg for three months) builds up scar tissue around the muscle. This restricts it and keeps it from recovering. A foam roller seems to work wonders for breaking up all that tissue, which is great news; my muscles need freedom if they’re going to heal.

2. Reduce mileage (even further)
No more “I feel good, I can run a few more miles.” Until my leg is better, I stick to the prescribed distance. Period.

3. Introduce new stretches to my pre-and-post-running routine
I’ve found a number of good stretches here.

Part four, strengthening my hips, comes in later. For now, merely stretching them is painful enough.