- date: 05/03/05
- time: evening
- weather: 50 ºF, cloudy, wind S/SW at 8 mph
- mileage: today-3, week-3, year-154.1
- resting (bpm): 60
- after workout (bpm): 118
- weight: +28
warning - severe navel gazing below
I purchased Old Socks a month before my first marathon. At the time, my life was one of fresh starts and new adventures. Best to be prepared with the right tools. Old Socks are of a synthetic moisture wicking fabric. Oddly, they were also cotton-like in comfort. Old Socks once snuggled gently but firmly around mid-ankle. Old Socks were, for all intents and purposes, perfect.
Conventional wisdom says don’t do anything new on marathon day. I was careful to give Old Socks a proper tryout. No bunching, no blisters, enough comfort. Old Socks checked out. I reserved Old Socks for special occasions. Old Socks ably served two fellowships: in 1997 for my first marathon, and two years later for my second. As with many things that are special when new, Old Socks became less so with time. I began wearing them for training runs. Soon they were even non-workout wear.
This evening, I was putting away laundry and looking for running clothes. There they were. Grayed, fuzzed and stretched. They no longer have affinity for my ankles. If I did wear them for a run, they’d no doubt sag. They really are of no use. Why hadn’t I discarded them before? Enough with the laundry already!
Well, maybe just a little more. I selected my gear. They missed the cut. Though, for some reason they also didn’t make it to the trash. I lay them on my bed so that their heels and toes aligned. I folded them. I put them at the bottom of my sock drawer. Maybe Old Socks are not entirely useless.