The Socks of Erised
“Sir – Professor Dumbledore? Can I ask you something?”
“Obviously, you’ve just done so,” Dumbledore smiled. “You may ask me one more thing, however.”
“What do you see when you look in the mirror?”
“I? I see myself holding a pair of thick, woolen socks.”
Harry stared.
“One can never have enough socks,” said Dumbledore.
- J.K. Rowling, from Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone
Three months ago, if you had put me in front of the Mirror of Erised wearing nothing but shorts and a running shirt, my answer to the above question would have been very similar to Professor Dumbledore’s; namely, I was just looking for a great pair of socks.
The magic of the mirror (hint: spell it backwards) is that it reflects not what is seen, but whatever the observer longs for above all else – and for me, during the times that I was logging upwards of 100 weekly trail miles, comfortable socks were very near the top of that list.
Unfortunately, I never settled on a brand of trail running socks that I liked. During my six-month buildup to Western States, I went through Wigwam, Thorlo, Balega, Smartwool, and REI brand socks, with varying levels of satisfaction (or, in most cases, dissatisfaction) over one aspect or another. When I finally toed the line at the Headlands 100, I wasn’t fully confident in any particular socks to see me through the task.
You know how this part of the story goes: over the next 23 hours, I got a lot of blisters, and ended up losing a couple of toenails.
So even though my season was over, I was still determined to find the magical socks that could prevent something similar from happening in future races. And that’s why, when an opportunity to try Drymax socks presented itself, I jumped in with both blistered feet.
I only wish I had found them sooner.
Before we get to specifics, there’s something else worth emphasizing: in previous reviews, I’ve espoused my pet philosophy of marketing to endurance athletes – namely, that companies are much better served by a grassroots word-of-mouth campaign using several talkative “spokesbloggers” than by paying big money for high-profile professional athletes or glitzy multimedia advertising. And over the past several months, that’s exactly what the Drymax company has done.
I had already heard of Drymax – and you probably have, too – but it wasn’t from a full-page ad in a magazine. Instead, I kept seeing references to them in endurance blogs, and online recommendations from triathletes and ultrarunners. Drymax has sponsored a handful of higher-profile athletes (including the women’s winner of the 2008 Badwater Run), but for the most part, they’ve built up a following through blogs (in fact, they even have their own blog) and online forums and a willingness to put their products in the hands – more accurately, the feet – of the most demanding users.
Of course, this strategy only works if you have the product to back it up – and Drymax does. This is a company that clearly did its homework before jumping into the crowded running-sock fray, and the results are clear. (In fact, they went into complete overkill mode with scientific analysis and application for these socks; my shipment came with a 105-page hardbound book detailing the specifications and indicated use for the Drymax product line, complete with charts and graphs and research study references. I know, you think I’m kidding – so let’s get to the pictures.)
This package arrived at my house last month: a dozen pairs of socks, along with a handwritten note thanking me for trying them and writing a review. (I’ve mentioned how much I like handwritten notes, right?) That object at bottom center is the hardcover user’s manual; in the back are a handful of reviews from national publications – no surprise: they’re all favorable.
One reason for having such a huge instruction book is that Drymax offers a larger variety of performance socks than any company I’ve ever seen. There are 7 different styles for runners or triathletes (this doesn’t include those made for walking, hiking or cycling), and several styles are also offered in an assortment of heights – for example, you can order your version 3 running socks in crew, quarter-crew, mini-crew, or no-show models – and colors.
Although the variety is awesome, it’s also a potential downside, in that the shopping process initially seems to approach a Starbucks (“tall half-fat double shot mocha frappucino with no whip and extra syrup”) level of complication. If you don’t know exactly what you like, you may have to try a few different styles to find the perfect pair for you. Luckily, in my case, I was mainly focused on trail running socks, so the only thing I had to select was the color – and wouldn’t you know it, they sent me both gray and black options. To their credit, Drymax seems to realize this concern, so they’ve taken an extra step to keep folks organized: they stitch the model name and size into each individual sock.
For example, these are the maximum protection running/triathlon socks that I wore in the Big Kahuna triathlon last weekend. I mentioned that I only had eight toenails that day, didn’t I? During the race, I didn’t spend one second worried about foot discomfort – I just put them on in T1 (yes, I wear socks on the bike), and never gave my feet a second thought.
These are the trail running socks I had been dying to try – along with one more detail worth pointing out. See that writing on the top?
All of these socks are made in the USA, baby. Call me biased, but that has to count for something nowadays.
When you put the socks on, they feel unusual at first, and maybe even a bit tight – in the same way that compression shorts feel strange when you’re used to wearing loose shorts. The socks are designed to fit like compression garments for your feet – which, in addition to helping wick moisture, also helps keep gravel and pebbles from the trail away from your ankles. The socks also feel thinner than cushioned socks, but according to the website, they utilize a high-density padding in key areas that adds protection without extra bulk.
One minor criticism of the socks is that the sizing is somewhat unconventional. My foot is a size 11, which normally places me smack in the middle of most brands’ “large” range of 9-12. With Drymax, 11 is the beginning of the XL size, which was the first size I tried, and it felt slightly big. Although I still use XLs without problems, the L size is a better fit for me – so my suggestion is to double-check your fit, and try on a pair if possible before purchasing (or if you’re buying over the Internet, buy two sizes and return one).
The bottom line here is that ever since my 100-miler, Drymax socks are all that I’ve worn, and I’ve been extremely satisfied with their performance. I could go on and on about the moisture-wicking technology onboard, how well they score in comparative studies to other brands, how durable they are, or how they’ve been tested in all sorts of extreme conditions – but all of that stuff is on the website and blog, and I’ve already rambled way too long. Suffice it to say that they are extremely comfortable, and keep your feet incredibly dry. Best of all, they don’t even irritate the beds of my missing toenails during my hilly trail runs.
Of course, my real test for these socks will come next spring and summer, when I use them for my high-mileage training weeks and tune-up races, and ultimately for the Western States Endurance Run in 2009. While I can’t guarantee that I won’t have any foot-related problems there, I can at least know that I have the best possible protection to help me make it through 100 miles again.
My introductory comparison to Professor Dumbledore was inaccurate in only one regard: I’ve never had a problem getting enough socks; rather, my desire was to find the perfect pair for my ultrarunning exploits. Now, I feel like that problem has vanished; if I stood in front of the Mirror of Erised today wearing my race-day ultra uniform, I’d undoubtedly look down to see a nice pair of Drymax trailrunners upon my feet.
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Drymax Lite Trail
Last Saturday’s 32-mile run on the Western States course was an experiment of sorts in what conditions my feet would be able to tolerate on race day. Specifically, I was concerned about immersing myself in the rivers, and being able to run comfortably up the canyons on the other side.
As you can see, I didn’t bother with taking off shoes, socks, or gaiters during my river plunges. Four separate times, I dunked myself at least waist deep (two of which, as evidenced above, were head deep), then hopped out of the river and kept running – no shoe or sock changes necessary. After seven hours of running, my feet were in almost perfect condition.
One more note on the socks: I was wearing a new Drymax model called the Version 4 Lite Trail Running sock. It’s a bit thinner than the standard Drymax trail sock, but it performs just as well – so if you’re someone who prefers a very thin, lightweight sock, you’ll probably love the Lite Trail. I’ll probably stick with the standard Drymax trail sock at Western States, and I’ve got great confidence that they’ll be up to the task. And I’m totally looking forward to diving into those river crossings again.
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