Hi my name is Trusty,
yes you guessed right. I’m a sock. But not just any ordinary sock. I’m a ‘Smartwool PhD Run Ultralight’. My master purchased me and my twin brother, in a special purpose store catering for athletes. Unlike most of my peeps, which you would pick up in a multi purpose store, I’m made of super absorbent yet highly breathable merino-and-nylon, guaranteed never to give you blisters.
My cousins who live in the same drawer think I’m a bit snobby, even they never say it out loud I know they consider me and my twin brother ‘a bit full of ourselves’. They are just jealous. They know that they can never be like us! For we are super-absorbent (already said that but just in case you didn’t pay attention – this is really important)!
I’m proud to say that I’ve been somewhat a prodigy, and started my career early together with my brother and master. So many miles we ran together. I always got a big high from absorbing all his endorphins, serotonin & dopamine. Being highly absorbent though, has also its dark sides. It genetically hard-wired me to have a highly addictive personality. Just a few days without a run would be enough to send me into fights in our drawer with my cousins.
My temper would rise until master finally took us out to give us the next fix during a new run. We never bothered getting help for our addiction as we knew therapy would result in the loss of our powers and so we have continued to live in denial of our problem, until ….
Until last year when something horrible, horrible has happened. It seemed to change my life for the worst.
One Sunday morning we were still perfectly sweaty, lying at the bottom of the hamper and waiting for our turn in the washy-doodle. All still hyped up on these juicy endorphins and tripping on that sweet runners-high our master gave us.
Considering our state, –completely off our chops, rat-arsed, shit-faced and spaced-away–, I don’t remember much unfortunately. Somehow I must have been tripping so hard that I passed out as I can’t recall any events. When I woke up, I found myself drying in the sun all alone without my twin brother. He was gone without a chance of good-bye.
After getting beck to my cousins in the drawer I immediately searched for him and asked everybody. Nobody knew where he was or what might have happened. I waited days and nights, lying awake and worried sick about my dear twin brother.
Never before was I so alone. I started to suffer from withdrawal symptoms as my master no longer considered me as his partner for his daily runs. He would sometimes take me out, briefly raising my expectations but then cruelly jug me back into the furthest and darkest corner of the drawer.
The other socks would make fun of me as I had gone from ‘proud leader of the sockniverse’ to laughingstock of the whole drawer. Even the far away coat-hangers knew my name now and joke+laugh about what a useless junky I was. And that some humility would be good for me. I guess it’s true that the higher you are, the harder you fall. And I fell hard, as I got severely depressed and had nobody to turn to.
Then finally master fetched me from the drawer during the middle of the night. and put me on his bed-side table. I thought we would go for a run together like in old times, but he didn’t look like he would be in a rush to leave the house, as he was lying in bed next to me.
This was new to me and I didn’t understand what purpose there may be in me sleeping next to him. I was made to run and absorb his endorphins, not watch him be lazy! For I was Trusty the super-absorbent!
But upon closer inspection he wasn’t lazy at all as he was watching something on his laptop. And his breathing was similar as when he would run but his legs didn’t move. I was confused but decided whatever would happen I’d ‘roll with it’. Surely anything would be better than spending time in that god-awful drawer all alone and depressed.
Just when I started to get bored from watching him, he suddenly grabbed me by the neck in an urgent frenzy and put me over what seemed to be his foot. But to my alarm, and by all what is holy, … This wasn’t his foot! It was much smaller, less smelly, yet throbbing in a threatening and unfamiliar kind of way.
My mind was racing! Was I trained for this? Then my thoughts drifted off into a happy place and I recalled good times with my twin brother. When I came to myself again, I felt all warm. So much sweat was all over me. Like finishing the hardest of marathons, but getting soaked 5 times as much. Boy, whatever it was, I didn’t see that coming.
That night master didn’t bother to send me into the hamper after the exercise. Instead he left me to dry, out of sight but within reach.
At first I was ashamed as I realized this wasn’t the sport I signed up for. Indeed using me to cleverly conceal the evidence after competing in a ‘bologna pony wack-a-thon battle’ wasn’t even the same ball-park. But heck, he was winning every time and seemed to be very good at it too. He never won a marathon you know!
What actually happened that night took me weeks to figure out. But it didn’t matter because ever since that night I’m happy! Happy as I haven’t been in months. I finally got my self-esteem back and could proof once again that I was a high-endurance performer, able to go for ages without giving blisters while delivering 360° protection.
My master had breathed fresh life into me and made me see that I didn’t need to get high on running. He showed me that I was good at more than just one thing. I, Crusty-Trusty, had become the Swiss-army knife of the sock world.
Trusty-Crusty (Smartwool PhD Fun Ultralight)