With rare exceptions, the consistently stated objective of boot-fitting systems and modification efforts is to create a perfect fit of the foot and leg of a skier with the rigid shell of a ski boot by applying uniform force to the entire surface of the foot and the portion of the leg in the boot in what pits Fit against Function. The end objective of the Perfect Fit is to achieve a secure connection of the leg of the skier with the ski. In the name of achieving a secure connection of the foot with the ski, the function of the skiers’ foot has become unitended collateral damage.

But boot design and boot fitting effors didn’t start off with the intent of compromising the physiologic function of the foot. It just sort of happened as a consequence of the limited ability to change the shape of the rigid plastic ski boots to address issues of user discomfort when plastic boots were first introduced. The new plastic boots worked well for some skiers. But for most, myself included, my foot moved around inside the shell when I tried to ski. The feeling of insecurity created by the looseness made skiing with any semblance of balance or control impossible. The fix seemed to be a simple matter of trying to figure out where to place a pad or pads between the foot and shell to stop the foot from moving.

In 1973 when I first started tinkering with my own ski boots the craft of boot fitting barely existed. Like myself, those who were trying to solve the problem of a loose fit were doing proceeding by trial mostly with alot of errors. After what seemed like unending frustration from many failed attempts at trying to find and then solve the source of my loose fit, a consensus began to emerge within the ranks of the ski industry that the easiest and quickest solution was a process that would create a tight fit of the foot everywhere with the boot instead of wasting time trying to find the elusive right place to add pads. The Perfect Fit was born.

Injected foam fit was first off the mark as a Perfect Fit solution. But injected foam fit wasn’t tight or precise enough for my standards. So I tried to take the Perfect Fit to the next level with Crazy Canuck, Dave Murray. I started the process by carefully trimming and laminating together pieces of sheet vinyl to form a matrix of solid material that I inserted into the liners of Mur’s boots. The process took about 2 weeks of painstaking effort. Finally, I satisfied that Mur’s feet were securely locked and loaded; ready for the best turns of his life. The result? One of the world’s best racers was instantly reduced to a struggling beginner, the exact opposite of what I had expected! This experience served as a wakeup call for me; one that caused me to rethink what I thought I knew and question whether the Perfect Fit was the best approach or even the right approach.

I started looking for alternate ways to restrain the foot so it was secure in the shell of a ski boot without compromising foot function. In 1980 when I was building a pair of race boots for Crazy Canuck, Steve Podborski I literally put my finger on the solution when I pressed firmly, but not forcefully, on the instep of his foot just in front of the ankle and asked if he thought we should try holding his foot like this in his new race boots. Without the slightest hesitation he said, “That feels amazing. Let’s do it!”

It took me more several few days to fabricate a system to secure Pod’s foot in his boots by loading the area of the instep that I had pressed my finger on. The problem we faced when the system was finished was that the liner made it impossible to use the system without modifying it. So a decision was made to eliminate the liner except for the cuff portion around the sides and back of his leg which I riveted to shell. At the time I wasn’t sure the system would even work. So I made a pair of boots with fined tuned conventional fit as backup. A boot with no liner seemed like an insane idea. But Podborski was not only able to immediately dominate his competition on the most difficult downhill courses on the World Cup circuit but go on to become the first non-European to win the World Cup Downhill title. Even more remarkable is that in his first season on the new system he was able to compete and win less than 4 months after reconstructive ACL surgery.

What I discovered set me off in a whole new direction. Pressing on the instep of Podborski’s foot activated what I later found out is called the Longitudinal Arch Auto-Stiffening Mechanism of the Foot. This system is normally activated as the mid stance (support) phase of walking approaches late mid stance where the foot is transformed into a rigid structure so it can apply the forces required for propulsion. As I learned about the processes that transform the foot into a rigid lever I began to understand how interfering with the function of the foot can compromise or even prevent the Longitudinal Arch Auto-Stiffening Mechanism from activating and, in doing so, cause the structures of the foot to remain ‘loose’ regardless of any efforts made to secure it.  A rigid foot is necessary to effectively apply force to a ski.

The graphic below shows a sketch on the left from Kevin Kirby, DPM’s 2017 paper, Longitudinal Arch Load-Sharing System of the Foot (1.) Figure 44 A on the right is from my 1993 US Patent 5,265,350.

The above graphics clarify the details of the arch loading system I first disclosed in my US Patent 4,534,122. This system challenges the current Perfect Fit paradigm in which the physiologic function of the foot is compromised in an effort to try and achieve a secure connection of a skier’s foot with the ski.

Figure 44A above shows the principle components of the arch loading system which is comprised of a number of complimentary elements. I will discuss these elements in my next post which will focus on solutions.

  1.  Kirby KA. Longitudinal arch load-sharing system of the foot. Rev Esp Podol. 2017 –