Vibram FiveFingers: A Review

on December 02, 2010

This is another blog post brought to you by airport idling. This time, it’s because of some heavy wind and rain in the NY metro area that’s causing delays at all major airports in the vicinity. I was originally supposed to be on a 5:30pm US Airways flight to Charlotte and a connection shortly thereafter into Austin, but with the delay from Newark, I was going to miss that connection. Because of some Star Alliance magic, a US Airways rep at the check-in counter put me on a direct flight to Austin with Continental instead. At first I was pretty ecstatic that I didn’t have to spend a night at the airport, but it was not to be an entirely free lunch: the Continental flight to Austin got delayed by over 4 hours!

So what am I going to do in this time? I actually went around looking for a gluten-free/paleo food option at the airport, but of course, that was fraught with peril (and stomach gurgles). I’ll write more on this specific topic later, but today, I’m going to tell you about the pros and cons of my Vibram FiveFingers Sprints.

I got my VFFs back in August, so it’s been almost four months of walking, running, jumping, windsurfing, and exercising in them—enough to know what’s good and what’s bad. But before I go into the comparison, let’s make sure we know what VFFs are.

I first saw these funky-looking shoes on the feet of the fitness staff at the Riata gym (the community fitness center where I live—don’t worry, it’s a very legitimate fitness center). I still remember my initial reaction, because I get it from the uninitiated these days in turn. Although I’m not proud of it, I have to admit that I did some involuntary twitching when I first saw these peculiar items of footwear. Perhaps it came from imagining them on my own feet; the idea of having things between my toes seemed weird and vile. That was well over a year ago.

I managed to ignore these amphibian, sock-like shoes for about a year, until I ran into them again when I got involved with the Paleo community in Austin. At this point, I had already started to believe that Paleo was the way to go since I had seen some initial, but substantial improvements in my health, so I started getting some cognitive dissonance when other Paleo folks started extolling the virtues of the FiveFingers, when in fact I had thought all along that they were for weirdos. This circumstance happened to coincide with the barefoot-favorable momentum I had already gathered when I banished neoprene booties from my feet earlier in the spring for windsurfing. The additional tactile response and control from having my bare feet on the board convinced me that there was something to this whole “no shoe” thing.

After reading others’ reviews about how nice it was to feel the ground, or how amazing barefoot running was, I started wanting them for myself. I imagined how I would blaze down trails with natural finesse, how I would climb trees with monkey-like grip, or how I would sit into a squat at the gym with full sensory connection to the ground. At this point, I was almost over-sold: I was convinced they would unlock a new chapter of my life, or something like that. I could hardly wait, so I trotted over to Vibram’s home page and started considering my options.

I had read that KSOs (Keep Stuff Out) were by far the best-selling model, but that seemed strange to me since I thought that the point of VFFs was “less shoe.” I didn’t want to go with the Classics since they seemed a bit too flimsy. The Sprint model, featuring the minimalism of the Classic with the active-lifestyle inspired straps of the KSO, would be perfect.

The easy thing to do then would have been to order them online, but after watching the sizing video, I thought it would be safest to try them on in person first. Unfortunately, because Austin is the kind of place where these things tend to become popular, every store within a reasonable radius was sold out of the normal sizes.

I dilly-dallied for a while on the purchase until I finally decided that there was no way waiting for them at the store just to try on sizes would make sense, so I took a gamble and got a pair from an online store based in Alabama (Mountain High Outfitters—knock yourself out). When they arrived, I was pretty content with the fit, so it turns out that the Vibram sizing chart is pretty accurate, after all. The only thing I still don’t understand (because I haven’t had the resources or opportunity to compare different sizes and models) is why the sizing chart sizes differently for the Sprint and KSO models (e.g. a 10″ foot should wear a 40 Sprint, but a 39 KSO).

Once I had decided that my Sprints fit well enough and that I wouldn’t bother trying to return them, it was time to go crazy. That night, I immediately went on a run, and boy was it different. That first time, even though I had a rough idea of what correct form barefoot form was, the mechanics were so alien to me that I could strike with my forefoot only, as if I were running with my calves. I did no more than 10 minutes that night, but felt pretty sore the next day. Eventually, as my feet adjusted, I started contacting lightly with my heel at the end of the stride, and that’s when it felt “right.” They say that running shoes make you strike with your heel first, while barefoot runners always strike with the outer metatarsals (the outer front of the foot). This [strangely attractive] YouTube video does a good job of showing what it should be like for barefoot runners.

So after I got comfortable with running, I started wearing VFFs for all sorts of things:

• Driving
  Manual transmission has never felt better than with VFFs (assuming you have to wear a shoe at all). Finding the engagement point of the clutch is easy when you can literally feel every vibration of the clutch plate through the pedal. It was hard going back to a shoe with a sole that had “give.”
• Lifting
  Deadlifts and squats have become much more enjoyable now that I can feel myself being grounded against the weight. Lifters say that Converse Chuck Taylors are the best for these composite lifts, but I’m pretty sure it’s hard to beat the control and tactile response that VFFs give you.
• Volleyball
  I was curious as to how VFFs would affect my jump mechanics, so I started playing volleyball in them too. It took about 3 weeks to fully adjust to the new mechanics. I would almost describe it as not having “enough tendon” or something like that for the first few times. Either that or my barefoot jumping muscles were underdeveloped. In any case, after the adjustment period, it was hard to go back to volleyball shoes on the court.
• Windsurfing
  You might think by now that everything that I do with VFFs automatically becomes more enjoyable or something, but that’s not true (but it’s almost true). Windsurfing was the one thing where I found that what I was doing before was better than with VFFs—that is, being barefoot. I tried VFFs for a short run, but they definitely felt out of place for me. Sometimes my little toe would get caught on the outside of the foot-strap while my other toes were already in. I wouldn’t notice until I almost lost my balance since I had no tactile response from any of my toes. I tossed them ashore and went on to sail barefoot.

So after all of these experiences, it’s time to sum up the good and the bad. What’s good:

• Posture. I like the idea of having a natural posture while exercising or playing sports. It’s comforting to know that my natural running and jumping mechanics are not damaging to my body in any way (in fact, they are probably more optimal than what any conventional shoe can do). If you find yourself having posture problems or various pains, instead of adding more orthotics, consider taking it all away. I’m a big believer of “you weren’t born to be sick,” so with a few exceptions, I generally recommend removing as many crutches as possible. Give your body a chance to take care of itself first before you resort to outside help (although it is worth noting that the initial adjustment period may cause things to get a little worse before they get better; you should always consult your doctor before following random advice you find online, etc.).
• Joy of exploration. I really do have to echo the common sentiment that VFF wearers love to trumpet: it makes walking fun again. Feeling the different materials and textures under your step is addictive. What used to be the prickly pain experienced by an over-protected foot is now a fascinating sensation for myriad finely tuned nerve endings. Trail hiking is fantastic, and it really feels like you’ve gotten a foot massage by the time you’re done.
• Attention. If you’re extremely introverted or don’t like to talk to people, this could actually be a disadvantage. Otherwise, having VFFs on is a convenient icebreaker, as people will invariably ask you about them when they meet you. I personally take the chance to unload some primal philosophy on the unsuspecting party, but that’s just me. I’m trying to popularize a fashion style known as “Dressy FiveFingers.” If you’ve seen me recently, then picture my usual fare (“careless formal,” if you will) with VFFs. It’ll catch on, I swear.

What’s bad:

• Olfactory time bomb. Death within a 10 foot radius. The Vibram stench. Unbearable reek. It’s the well known problem that besets all VFF owners a few months into the experience. For me, it happened within the past few weeks, but the internet came to the rescue, as usual. As a token of my gratitude, I’ll let you in on the secret sauce to banish the stench: vinegar. That’s right, just soak your VFFs in a bucket of warm water with a generous helping of vinegar. Let them sit for half a day and line-dry them as usual. At first, they will smell like vinegar, but after a few wearings, they will smell like nothing at all. Crisis averted. You can thank me later.
• Foot expansion. I don’t know if this can be considered a really bad con, but I have noticed that my feet have changed shape since I got my VFFs. Instead of a cramped default position (picture a foot shoved into Converse Chucks), they now tend to fan out a little bit towards the toes. Since I’m also a fan of Chucks, this kind of annoyed me, as now spending an extended amount of time in my go-to shoe kind of hurts. I’ve read that indigenous barefoot populations have fan-like feet, so maybe it’s a natural consequence I should welcome; however, it does make situations where you have to “tone down the primal” a bit uncomfortable.
• Sizing OCD. Since VFFs are all about a second skin on your foot, I noticed that I started getting sizing OCD. I keep having doubts in my mind as to whether I want to size down. I currently have 40s, but some days I feel like my feet are smaller and want 39s, and on other days, I feel like they’re bigger and stretch the 40s. What’s worse, my left foot is consistently about .25 inches longer than my right, so that bothers me too. Moreover, I feel like my heel isn’t as substantial as the shoe wants it to be (in the sense that my heel is right length, but not the right width). In the end, I may have to come to terms with the fact that my feet are not the prototypical foot that Vibram used to design their shoes, and that I should be happy that I already get as good a fit as I do.

Finally, it’s worth mentioning that VFFs are a premium product, and are accordingly priced. For the little physical material that you get, you have to shell out anywhere from $80-$125 depending on the model you want. Although for all the joy and improvement that my VFFs have brought me, $80 was a modest price to pay. I highly recommend VFFs and do hope that you’ll give them a try at some point, especially if you enjoy the outdoors and have an active lifestyle. But be warned, you may never want to go back to conventional shoes ever again.