Officially a tri geek -- my daughter says so

Might recall I was thrilled that my 12-year-old's Father's Day gift to me was a running hat and a water bottle that straps to your hand. This weekend, she demonstrated she is unquestionably my biggest supporter. She made me a T-shirt that shows a figure -- readily identifiable as me by the glasses and the bald head -- in the three phases of the race, swimming, riding and running. Above, it reads: "My Dad is a Tri Geek." She made this from a transfer, so had to draw and write the text backwards. It was a Herculean effort just to get the three disciplines in the right order. The shirt is hanging in a place of honour right now till I can get it framed.

(I must say, the sun in the background of each of the vignettes is a little intimidating. A la Indio, a Big Hard Sun. But that's just me being spleeny, I'm sure.)

If my daughter's declaration doesn't make me a tri geek, try this on for size: I'm going to review socks.

A few weeks back, Running Room in Commerce Court had a three-pairs-for-$15 sock sale. They were slightly irregular, and you could mix and match. So I chose three different pairs. They are before me right now. (Seriously, they are.) These are not dollar-a-pair cotton jobbies. I wash them in special athletic wear detergent and I hang them to dry, lest the dryer spin some of the magic out of them.

Pair 1 is a thin poly-blend quarter sock. Pair 2 is an Ironman branded sock that comes only to the top of my running shoe. Pair 3, the Wigwam Thunder Pro, is also a shoe-height pair, but much thicker. (I'm not playing favourites by linking to the Wigwam sock; there are pages and pages and pages of socks on Running Room's Web site. I lucked out finding the Thunder Pro.)

(If you're still reading this after two paragraphs about socks, bless you. I hope this somehow convinces you to end the punishment you put your feet through by buying cotton socks. Though I do wear cotton socks on an everyday basis when I'm not exercising. With apologies to The Tragically Hip, It Can't Be Nashville Every Night.)

I'd thought Pair 2 was going to be the sock to beat. It appeared to have it all going for it: Low profile, thin fabric, and, um, well, that's about all you ask for in a sock, isn't it? But I found it was a bit futzy to put on, not a great trait for a triathlon.

Pair 1 pulled on more easily. That was really the only difference. I really didn't notice either pair of socks while I was running. I don't mean I was ambivalent. I mean I really didn't feel the socks. I can't call them comfortable; it was like they weren't there.

Likewise with Pair 3, my winner Low profile, like Pair 2 -- just a half-inch hike on the back to keep the shoe from rubbing against the Achilles. Virtually unnoticeable when riding and running. But, they went on absolutely without a fuss. At a guess, all straightened out, four or five seconds faster than the others. And equally unnoticeable.

I've just reviewed socks. Can't imagine there's anything more to say. I've slipped into the abyss of tri geekdom.