Gear Review: Compression Socks

I got my first pair of compression socks maybe 2 years ago.  At approximately $50 a pair, I'd wear them only on sparkling clean feet, only while sitting, so they would never have to touch anything dirty.  This plan actually worked, because I bought them with the specific purpose of wearing them on the plane or in the car on the way back from a marathon.

Since that first pair of compression socks, my collection has expanded, and so have the circumstances under which I'll wear them.  Gradually, I started wearing compression socks after I got out of the shower and put on my pjs to get into bed after a long run.  Then I started wearing them around the house when I had leg fatigue, regardless of what my workout that day had been.  During Reach the Beach last Spring, I wore them on my 4th and final leg, after running 3 times and 20 miles in less than 24 hours.  This season, as my mileage climbed and I found myself stringing together several back-to-back 50+ mile weeks for the first time, and my legs seemed to have less and less time to recover, I started wearing them not just for recovery, but during workouts as well.

Do compression socks work?  Well, that depends on what they're supposed to do, I guess.  Apparently, compression socks are meant to increase blood flow, which seems counterintuitive to me, because squeezing your limbs should stem blood flow.  I guess that's why they're not called tourniquet socks.  Anyway, so increased blood flood is meant to do lots of good things: blood carries oxygen and nutrients to your legumes and other body parts.  But don't believe me (that statement is applicable on nearly every topic); here's what Running Times had to say on the issue:

"...Compression socks [are] aimed at improving oxygen delivery to muscles, speeding lactic acid removal and stabilizing the lower leg for greater muscle efficiency"

So, now we know what they're supposed to do.  The question is, do they?  Well, "fiscally responsible" isn't the first description that jumps to mind when I'm describing myself, but even I wouldn't spend $50 on a pair of socks that didn't do much beyond keep my feet warm.  My experience has been that compression socks do aid recovery; after wearing compression socks, especially overnight after a hard workout, my lower legs feel less dead and are more quickly able to bounce back in a workout the next day.  Further, when I am running on tired legs, which for me really manifests in my shins, compression socks alleviate some of that fatigue and soreness during a run.

But!  Not all compression socks are created equal, and I find I reap the greatest benefits, both during recovery and during runs, from the tightest compression socks.  

I owe compression socks by 3 different brands.  The first pair I purchased, and still have and use, are by 2XU.

I find these are fine for recovery, but aren't really tight enough.  I can wear them all night long without fear of developing gangrene, but they also don't leave me feeling "ahhhh, so refreshed!" the next morning either.  To that end, I've never bothered to run in them when I've needed compression, and instead turn to other pairs.  If these came in sizes, I can't remember what size I got.  Also, black socks creep me out, and whenever I look down at my legs wearing these, I think I'm a middle aged man.

My most recently acquired compression socks are by PRO Compression.  

I got these bad boys for 50% off thanks to a flash sale online via Active Schwaggle.  The blue argyle is a big step up from creepy old man black, and I can get away with wearing these (under long pants or tall boots) to work, which maximizes recovery time.  These are moderately snug.  I ordered a size S/M and feared they would be too tight, for I have voluptuous calves, but they are not. They feel like a firm hug. I only just got these and as such have worn them only for recovery, and not yet for running.

[Runs down hall in apartment and back].

These are suitable for running and recovery.  And when you take them off, you have little diamonds from the argyle embedded in your legs!

Next up, we have The Big Guns.

I'm smiling because I can't feel how sore and tired my legs are. Also, because I just finished a strip tease on the side of the road while parked next to a van full of devout Christian ultrarunners.  

CEP compression socks are TIGHT.  Purchasing them requires taking measurements of your calves, and mine require a Size III.  These take upwards of 10 minutes to put on because they are so tight.  But oh my dear God, is it worth it.  I own two pairs of these - white and hot pink.  Not only did I wear them with my short shorts for that last leg of RTB, above, but I've been living in them this month, both during runs and after.  More than once this season, I've considered bagging a run because of how tired my legs have been, only to wrestle a pair of CEP compression socks on and be able to run pain free.  I rank these up there with Gu, Gatorade, bagels, and beer as key tools in a marathon runner's arsenal.

Lastly, we have Tommie Copper Compression Sleeves, which are like socks, only they don't cover your feet, which I think is actually crucial in the definition of socks, so these are actually not like socks.

Josh hooked me up with some Tommie Copper gear for free earlier in the season.  Not only is this gear (calf and elbow sleeves, shirts, shorts, and gloves) designed for compression, but it's woven with copper infused yarn.  Copper has long been associated with anti-inflammatory and other healing powers, which is why you often see people wearing copper bracelets.  I personally prefer unnatural everything (see: Doritos) so using natural anti-inflammatories isn't necessarily a draw for me, but it doesn't hurt either.  Tommie Copper products are also super lightweight, silky, and thin - much thinner than the thick cotton/Lycra weave of my other compression socks - and these are easy to get on.  I can't give the Tommie Copper products as thorough as a review because a) I only ended up with one calf sleeve, which made it hard to judge whether or not my calves as a team were any less fatigued during and after workouts, and b) despite taking measurements (possibly not in the most assiduous manner...), my one calf sleeve is not as tight as I prefer.  That said, I can attest to the fact that wearing one calf sleeve at a time make people think you are a badass and/or professional NBA player.  Also, I believe I mentioned I ended up with a pair of Tommie Copper Fingerless Compression Gloves, and if you can think of a non-sexually explicit task during which I can test them out, I will gladly write a comprehensive review.  

In summation: tighter is better, compression gear is expensive, and people in the taper phase of marathon training have enough free time on their hands to write 1200 screeds on support hose.