Can Nike’s controversial Vaporfly trainers make anyone run faster? Our runners put them to the test – Telegraph.co.uk
Footwear manufacturers are some of the most egregious hyperbole merchants in commerce, so it usually pays to be sceptical of their products. But Nike’s flagship running shoe, the Vaporfly, is different. With their bouncy foam soles and their cleverly curved carbon plating, Vaporflys seem to give their wearers a significant advantage, from Eliud Kipchoge, the first man to run a marathon in less then two hours (albeit unofficially), down to plodders like you and me.
The first model, the 4%, was so-called because it putatively saved its wearer four per cent of his or her energy expenditure over a long race. That doesn’t equate to a four per cent reduction in time because there are so many other variables in running performance – but the results are still stark. Since the 4% went on sale in 2016, its wearers, and the wearers of its successor, the Next%, have set almost half of the top 150 marathon times in history. In last year’s six major marathons, 31 out of 36 podium finishers wore Vaporfly shoes.
Vaporflys are so good, basically, that some people think they constitute “mechanical doping” and should be banned. World Athletics is due to rule tomorrow on whether athletes can compete in the trainers at this summer’s Tokyo Olympics. Early indications suggest that the governing body won’t prohibit Vaporflys, but instead suspend the introduction of new shoe technology and launch a research project into the benefits of wearing the trainers.
So good they should be banned. So good they smash records. So good they might give me, an irredeemably slow runner, a naughty little boost in my quest to go from awful to merely sub-par. Sounds good, doesn’t it? So yesterday, I got hold of a pair of Next%, strapped them on, and tried them out.
I’m training for in April, and my 15-mile run last weekend – the longest run of my pudgy little life – should have prevented me, four days later, from setting a 5km personal best. Would these ugly teal-and-orange bad boys, with their bizarre curved heels and their Bag-for-Life-esque uppers, help me smash that record?
Not on grass they won’t. I usually avoid pavements, seeing as the human knee isn’t designed to pound concrete over and over again, but the Vaporflys felt slippery on a muddy surface. On asphalt, though, they seemed to impart some kind of springiness. The angular toe, and I suppose the carbon plating atop the sole, seemed to guide the roll of my step towards the bouncy heel. Because the heel curves up behind the foot rather than ending on a right angle, it gives you a slightly longer spring. It wasn’t quite moonwalking, but it felt like Earth’s gravity had been dialled down very slightly for me and me alone.
I finished the 5km in just over 26 minutes. It was one minute above my personal best, set a couple of years ago and the culmination of several attempts, and three minutes below the last few times I’d recorded over the same distance. My mediocre level of fitness is still the main determinant of, and detriment to, my performance, but it felt like the shoes had made the running slightly easier, not least because I was intrigued by their reputation and excited by the sensation of springiness. After my run, I felt less exerted than I normally might.
To my surprise, then, the shoes seemed to have supplied a discernible benefit. I’m sure my enthusiasm will wane, costing me the temporary morale boost that I suspect propelled me some of the distance, and I imagine that for most amateur runners, a few percentage points’ worth of improvement doesn’t justify the £239.95 RRP. But will I wear them during my marathon in April? Oh yes. That’ll be me, springing into the distance, frantically attempting to convince myself that I’m not quite cheating.
‘I’m springing, rather than trudging, along’
By Amy Bryant
I’m writing this having just shaved 34 seconds off my PB for my local Parkrun route. I’m still a bit wheezy. It’s a notoriously hilly course in Crystal Palace Park in south London and the terrain is a mixture of concrete paths, gravel and muddy puddles. I’ve been scrabbling up it most Saturday mornings for the past year – having dabbled in 10km fun runs and half marathons over the last decade – and my 5km times have been rocking around the back end of the 20s, with a personal best of 25:42. Today, my watch says 25:08. The question is, does it have anything to do with the shoes on my feet?
Sartorially, a pair of Nike ZoomX Vaporfly NEXT% wouldn’t look out of place on Mr Tumnus. The black undersole that creeps out over the toes looks like a cloven hoof, while I’m conscious that the prominent foam heel, finishing in a sharp point, might draw stares.
They are the lightest trainers I’ve ever worn yet perversely the ones I am most aware of on my feet – walking in them generates a rolling, bouncing motion that I don’t feel fully in control of. The thick foam midsole (which along with its concealed carbon-fibre plate is the cause of all the controversy) is springy underfoot – flabby is the word that comes to mind – but break into a run and I feel propelled onto the balls of my feet, able to take longer, fuller strides than my ancient Brooks ever facilitated.
Therein lies the rub, of course. These are not controlled conditions and I’ve never spent more than £50 on trainers before, always plumping for previous seasons’ designs to keep costs down and wearing them until they wither and die. Naturally a brand-new pair of kicks will make a difference. But at full sprint I do feel like I get more bounce every time I make impact with the ground (the greater energy return claimed by Nike), and I do notice a lightness in step while running in the snug-fit Vaporflys. After five outings in them, easy-paced jogging seems to require less effort, and I’m springing, rather than trudging, along.
It might be just a powerful placebo – even the product blurb brags that the upper’s ‘translucent grid pattern looks fast’. But if it gets me up that hill even faster next Saturday, I’m sold.