My Stocks

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In May 2022, I arrived in Europe for a 3-month stay. On my feet were a pair of Birkenstocks. Not the Jesus sandals but real closed-toe shoes. My first stop was Valencia, Spain.

When I arrived, I was exhausted. Just eighteen hours earlier, I boarded a redeye bound for London, where I had a three-hour layover before continuing to Valencia. Despite my tiredness, I was determined to make it through the day without napping. So, I set out on foot.

On my walk, I was greeted with the sounds of pickup soccer games and the aromas of red wine and cigarettes from local restaurants and bars. The warm summer air was refreshing, too – my skin rejoiced after too much-recycled airplane air. But not all was right in the world. My feet hurt. A lot.

You see, when you buy a cheap pair of Vans or Nikes, they feel good the first time you wear them. But over time, they'll slowly lose their shape and get less comfortable.

With Birkenstocks, this isn't the case.

To buy a pair of Stocks, you must overcome the discomfort when you first try them on. Because of their cork soles, they don't fit your feet right away and take time to break in. On my walk in Valencia that night, I learned that this process can be a bit painful.

After some time and too many steps, I finally decided on a restaurant to dine at. Well, I had some help. In Europe, servers stand outside restaurants to sell their menu like Phil Swift sells Flex Seal. It's non-stop. I fell for the paella this tourist-hunting server was selling; granted, it was delicious.

The walk back felt long, especially with a full belly and unforgiving shoes. When I finally returned to my hotel room, I kicked off my Stocks, looked at them, and thought, "Were they really worth $150?!"

I was quickly reminded by my stuffed stomach and lack of sleep that going to bed was the only thing that mattered. I jumped in bed after a hot shower and slept like a rock for the next ten hours.

Waking up the following day was tough. I floated in and out of consciousness for an hour before getting out of bed. Once I did, I was met with the unfortunate reality that I had a 1.6-mile walk to the city center to check into my next hostel.

I threw on an Andrew Huberman podcast episode, picked up my 20lb pack, laced up my Stocks, and headed into town.

Let's just say my feet were thankful when I arrived.

Fast forward a few days, and my Stocks were finally starting to break in. I remember looking into them and seeing the beginnings of my footprint. The cork sole was starting to mold to my feet.

At that point, I also wasn't jet-lagged anymore. It's amazing what sleep and proper footwear can do for a traveler.

Although the pain had subsided, my feet still ached for the first few weeks of the trip. My Birkenstocks weren't entirely to blame, though. Joey, who I was traveling with, and I were walking a lot.

We walked through the various markets and plazas in Valencia, the entire city of Barcelona on an all-night bender, and the mountainous region of Northern Spain. We must've covered a couple of hundred miles on foot alone.

Let me tell ya, heavy mileage without proper footwear is a recipe for aches and blisters. Despite the discomfort, I persisted. The beautiful scenery and a few cold cervezas after long rucks helped relieve the aches and pains.

When it was time to leave Spain and head to London, something happened. In a matter of steps, I realized my feet didn't hurt. In fact, each step felt like I was walking on a cloud.

My pain-inducing Stocks turned into moon boots. After three weeks, hundreds of miles of walking, and a couple of blisters, they were finally broken in.

They continued molding to my feet and increasing in comfort as the trip went on. And I started to have the opposite reaction of the first couple of weeks: I couldn't believe how comfy they were.

I remember calling my friend, Sofia, who helped me make the purchase, and drooling over how plush, stylish, and versatile they were. I also called my mom and told her, "these Birkenstocks are the best shoes I've ever purchased!" What a turn of events.

My Birkenstocks are still stylish, comfy, and in surprisingly excellent condition. As my best friend Galen says, "that's what German engineering gets ya!" I suppose that's to be expected from a company older than the United States. Birkenstocks was founded in 1774 in Hammersbach, Germany.

I knew Germans were well-known for their beer and the autobahn, but I didn't realize the trendy shoe company we all love today is of German descent and older than America itself. But that's beside the point.

Is this a Noah Cracknell original if I didn't turn my Birkenstocks story into a metaphor for life? You're right; it isn't 🫱🏻‍🫲🏼

Breaking in a new pair of Stocks is like mastering a skill. You must keep putting your shoes on, walking in them, and living with the growing pains.

Your feet may hurt at first and be achy for a while, but that's all a part of the journey. What's a good story without juxtaposition anyway?

When I lace up my Stocks today, I'm reminded that the fruits of our labor are sweet because of the labor itself, not the fruit. It's the painful steps in Spain, not the plush ones I enjoy today, that make my Stocks the best shoes I've ever owned.

Keep crushing.

Cheers,

Noah Cracknell

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