Ken Schuch running along the lakefront path is an unusual sighting, akin to spotting an urban coyote, the Oscar Mayer Wienermobile or singer Jeff Tweedy of Wilco.
The reason Schuch is double take-worthy: He runs around the city barefoot.
Occasionally Schuch receives a look, as if he’s exited polite society.
“Dude, what are you doing? Where are your shoes?” thought bubbles might read.
“It’s not a new thing, but it’s rare,” said Schuch, an accountant. “I’ve never seen another barefoot runner Downtown, so I understand the curious looks, but it’s mostly positive interactions, a lot of thumbs-up and smiles.”
Schuch, like thousands of runners who flood the lakefront in August and September, is training for the Oct. 12 Bank of America Chicago Marathon.
There’s no rule against running the marathon barefoot, Chicago Marathon spokesperson Alex Sawyer said. Race officials don’t track how many people do it, but it’s certainly an extremely small number, she said.
Barefoot running has long been a fringe trend, but the practice has had its moments, particularly after the 2009 book “Born to Run,” which sold more than 3 million copies, extolled its health benefits. In it, author Christopher McDougall argued humans are designed to run barefoot, landing softly on the front half of the foot, instead of the heel-striking that often occurs in shoes.
“It’s like any number of fads that come and go,” said marathon guru Hal Higdon, who lives in northwest Indiana and offers a well-known marathon training plan.
Schuch, 60, leaves his Downtown condo in flip-flops, stashes them in a nearby bush and trots the Riverwalk to the lakefront path.
A security guard on the Riverwalk once told him couldn’t be barefoot because he could get hurt.
“Don’t worry, I’ll take the blame if I get hurt,” Schuch responded.
He isn’t seeking attention. Running barefoot, he insists, is just easier on his feet, as counterintuitive as that may sound.
He started running barefoot about five years ago after training for a marathon in shoes left him with an aching ankle that he could barely walk on.
“Without shoes, your foot lands softer and underneath your body,” he said. “Your body just takes over and does what’s natural. It’s kind of weird. It’s different for sure, but I like it.”
Schuch runs five days a week in the warmer months and says he has only stepped on sharp things twice, tiny shards of metal that he easily removed without serious injury. He’s also stepped on a few bees while running in grassy areas along the lakefront and gotten stung.
When not running outside, especially in the colder months, he runs barefoot on the treadmill in the workout room in his building, which apparently rubbed some the wrong way, judging from a sign that recently went up notifying treadmill users that shoes are required.
Schuch, who grew up in Darien and was an accomplished track and cross-country runner at Hinsdale South High School, has run four Chicago Marathons.
The first two he did in shoes and each was completed in roughly four and five hours. The last two he did barefoot, and his finishing times improved to 3:18 and 3:11.
“I tried it after researching it a bit, and at first it was really weird, and I only took a few steps and was like ‘This ain’t gonna work.’ But I stuck with it, and my feet got stronger,” he said.
Last year, Schuch ran a marathon in Cincinnati sans shoes. In April, he started the Boston Marathon wearing shoes but removed them toward the end of the race because his feet hurt (he finished).
His goal in the upcoming Chicago Marathon is to place in the top 10 of his 60-to-64 age group. The finish times for last year’s top 10 were between 2:48 and 3:10.
Owen McCall, 72, was one of the area’s staunchest proponents of barefoot running until he moved to southern Indiana about a decade ago. A few runners a month would travel to Highland Park, where he used to live, to learn the technique from him free of charge.
“When I moved down to Indiana, one day the cops stopped me while I was out for a run. I guess they thought I was a senile old fool who was gonna hurt himself, and they asked me if I was OK. I was like ‘Yeah, I’m OK,'” McCall recalled with a laugh.
“It’s such a healthy option,” he said. “And you save money on the shoes.”