Xero Shoes the company has been very confident about their
products and boasted a "5000 Mile Sole Warranty": they
would charge a small fee for a new pair to replace an old
one worn down to 1mm thin in the sole. "We don’t expect
you’ll ever need this warranty ..." brags their Web site.
Well. Recently, I did.
My Z-Trek (Patriot Blue), purchased (at $59) on May 17,
2015, carried me through many runs including the San
Francisco Marathon that summer, became a faithful workhorse
since I stopped regular running, and after three years
of service finished its mission.
Together with the other two pairs (Mocha Earth), the Xero
coached a desk-bound mid-aged computer programmer on
walking and running, exposed his feet to the elements to be
challenged and strengthened, and kept the stinky fungi at
bay. If it were not for them, I probably wouldn't have paid
attention to the slight bunion and the tight fascia of my
right foot. From the picture, both soles were worn out at
the outer heels, telling me how I could improve walking.
Wearing these shoes, I stand out everywhere I go: the office,
the library, the market, the trail, the dojo, the airport, etc.
I got asked about them many times. (A big shout-out for
America is due here as my social non-conformity has been
tolerated and even embraced.) I have tried to persuade Tim
to wear consistently the pair I bought for him, which is an
on-going battle against his culture. Recently, my colleague
L, the ultra-runner, took an interest in my stingy footwear
and told me he would add it to his running.
I told the company that I wore the sole through at the right
heel and got my new pair (Charcol Black) for $24. I bought
another two of the same Z-trek and wondered what I would
write down for the lives of these three pairs and how they
would change mine and others'.
