Sock It To Me

Although you could never tell by looking, I am annoyingly particular about my workout wear.  True, I generally run in ratty cast-off t-shirts and pants that have faded from black to a mottled green, but don’t be fooled.  Every item in my workout wardrobe is prudently vetted for my specific needs, and no one garment collection is more carefully curated than the contents of my sock drawer.

It is very difficult for me to find socks that don’t piss me off.  I find that when I buy pairs specifically designed for running, they inevitably – and literally – fall short.  Workout socks tend to be ankle-length or lower, which I hate.  I have yet to find a pair that has enough elastic around the opening to prevent the whole sock from falling into my shoe the minute I start running.  I’ve even had socks slip so far down that they end up bunched underneath my arch.

I finally found a pair with a sturdy enough elastic band, but it is made of a thick material that causes my feet to get hot and my shoes to feel too tight the longer I run.

Considering these issues, I tend to run in regular old plebian socks.  In fact, the best running socks in my drawer were bought at a craft store for one dollar.  As you can imagine, one-dollar socks probably aren’t lovingly constructed from the highest quality materials.  I am constantly darning the holes where my toes poke through.  My cheap socks have more stitches than Frankenstein, but anything to make them last.

Meanwhile, A has no such sock problems.  While he has his favorites, he could go out with two different socks on each foot and not even notice.  On a lark, he bought this pair.

They don’t even fit properly but he has no problems running in them whatsoever.  With all that surplus fabric my feet would be Blister City, but the only complaint he has is the price.  Luckily, I know a good craft store he can go to.