The front of my personal Interval shorts, with a 5″ inseam and no liner…

…and the back, with Ten Thousand’s trademark “X” logo, now slightly worn from a year’s worth of wearing and washing.

Stretchy, Durable, and Moisture-Wicking

What ultimately makes Ten Thousand stand out compared to most of the workout shorts I’ve owned is the material: The amount of stretch, overall durability, and moisture-wicking is incredibly dialed-in for each model, and the Interval sits right in the middle of all of these as the brand’s most versatile pari of shorts. I tend to wear them for my leg training sessions—whenever I know I’m going to be needing maximum stretch for mobility work and deep squats (I’m currently working on my ATG split squat), and will be at my absolute sweatiest. I use the less stretchy, but notably burlier, Foundation shorts on deadlift days, when I’m taking them to abrasion city.

The exterior shell fabric of the Interval, a “poly-spandex plain weave with four-way stretch and wicking,” is designed to never feel damp, says Lee, but “is not that out there” otherwise in terms of materials. (Indeed, it does not cling or feel sticky.) With a sense of genuine marvel, however, Lee says that “the liner is beautiful”; an “amazing, gorgeous fabric, with an Italian-quality knit” of very fine yarns that is exceptionally dense, creating a tight level of compression and retention. The liner is optional, and I bought my Interval shorts without them (the liner is optional), so I can’t speak to it in the Interval shorts. (I like the liner in the Session shorts just fine, although it lacks the phone pocket built into the Interval’s liner—a touch Lee designed.) They’re gussetted, eliminating the number one failure point I’ve experienced in workout shorts. Ten Thousand, like a number of athletic wear brands, has a silver-ion anti-odor fabric treatment, but I have yet to find a single workout clothing item that does not smell like it belongs in a sewer after a hard workout or two, and it is no exception here.

Quality Pockets and No Riding Up

I’ve found they run a little small. Which is both normal and also unexpected. In most brands, I have to buy at least one size up from my actual waist in order to accommodate my legs, and this is true for Ten Thousand. Where a 33-inch waist is often a medium in the real world, in Ten Thousandville, I wear a large. Though I’m confused about why. The whole brand is geared toward people who do kettlebell swings and dumbbell thrusters like their lives depend on it. You’d think the sizing would be tuned for guys with powerhouse quads and glutes. Instead, Ten Thousand’s clothing is expressly tailored for the single-digit-body-fat builds of the pro CrossFitters and ex-Marine raiders and MMA fighters who model their wares. And I do mean tailored—the fabric may not be clingy, but the combo of the brand’s sizing dimensions and trim cuts means it shorts are maybe too dialed in for anyone without a grindset physique.