Sockprints

I wanted to go for a longish run at lunchtime today – the weather was blowing, it had been raining but it was a good day for running.  I got all my dry kit together, drove into work, the realise I left my shoes at home.  So much for the long run.

Then I realised I could just go barefoot around the harbour and that would be fine.  Except it was wet again and I didn’t want to do the grit thing and I still don’t have any aqua shoes, since a disappointing visit to the chandlery yesterday.  I was also slightly nervous of the reaction of people faced with my less than bulky legs clad in skin-tight black Lycra dramatically contrasting with my flipper-like, oversized feet which have the colour and texture of a dead Beluga Whale.

As I’m still only going short distances barefoot I could get away with normal track suit bottoms and it dawned on me that the more ‘normal’ I look in my upperwear the less likely they are to notice or care about what’s on my feet.  Even so, the unnaturally pale paddles extending from my ankles looked very noticeable sticking out from the bottom of my joggers. Socks!

I’m not sure how long they are going to last, but I donned my running socks again, and because of their sombre shade I looked relatively normal.  Very few people noticed I was running around in socks, much fewer than would have done if I were truly barefoot.  It also solves the grit adherence problem and gives a little insulation yet still allows me to feel almost every texture and temperature and all the moisture.

In fact the best thing about it was passing by unnoticed, presumably normally shod, yet leaving a line of bare footprints in my wake.