ØØ8: Adidas

TL;DR

Speaking to the soul can make a killer ad. Scroll to the middle, skip the mind-altering context, and dive into this week’s ad write-up.


This is going to be a long one, so grab some coffee.

1,204 words to be exact (minus the ones you’ve just read).

Got your coffee?

Is it black?

Superior humans don’t use creamer or sugar.

I don’t make the rules.

Anyway, let’s begin.

This ad write-up begins with a newfound hunch:

In advertising, writing to the soul is far better than any simile, metaphor, oxymoron, or creative angle one can conjure up.

Similar to the emotive copy I shared weeks ago, writing to the soul is similar, yet a tad bit different.

Rather than speaking to surface-level sensory experiences, the soul is far deeper—many layers beneath the surface.

The soul is where nostalgia sleeps, where tears are stored in ominous gray clouds, and where the elixirs of courage, happiness, fear, and more are bottled.

The soul seems like it’s only accessible via introspective practices like meditation and journaling, or perhaps pried out of you by a therapist.

Or a damn good copywriter.

The only way I’ve found to do this—and see it done—is through the marketing philosophy of the late and great Rory Sutherland.

One of the Greats

Known for many things, he notoriously penned the most brilliant marketing/psychology book of the 21st century.

That magical little book is called Alchemy.

In it, Rory talks about the true ‘why’ behind the things we do and buy. It’s by asking ‘why’ over and over until you get honest answers.

He asks, “Why do people go to restaurants?” Why, to eat, of course. He retorts, “If it were simply to eat, couldn’t they do so at home, mind you, for far cheaper too?”

On top of this, I’d add, there would also be no need to get ready, dress up, commute, search for parking (or pay for valet), and, worst of all, commute back home—belt unbuckled, seatbelt buckled, stuffed.

Say that three times fast.

Eating out has never been about the food.

And it never will be.

People eat out to be pampered, avoid dishes, entertain guests, celebrate occasions, or because they are too lazy to thaw the meat in the freezer—and even to appease their ego.

It’s by asking ‘why’ repetitively, like a 6-year-old asking why the sky’s blue, that we find potential gold for advertising.

And it’s gold because it reads like the subconscious thoughts you haven’t been able to put into words.

The copy is so potent, so concentrated, you question: how the hell did this ad creator sneak into my brain while I was asleep and steal these precious thoughts?

You read the ad, and a subtle euphoria fades in—you feel seen, you feel heard.

You feel like it was written for you.

And we’ll happily, blindly, and without hesitation give your money to those who fulfill this need.

To drive this concept home, let me share with you a super brief example, followed by copy written by an amazing copywriter I stumbled across with decades of talent ahead of me.

Runners Run

I run—some would say a lot. It’s usually only 2.5 miles at a time, sometimes 5, and once in a blue moon, I’ll do 10. So, 7.5 to 10 miles is how much I’ll do in a week, on average.

Upon looking for ad inspiration, I was scrolling through Pinterest for vintage ads.

And this one Adidas ad stopped me in my tracks.

I’m not sure if it ever ran; I dug into the linked website and didn’t get a clear answer—some ads ran, but I’m not sure about this one. The copywriter responsible is Dave Dye.

His ad reads:

THERE ARE PROBLEMS I CAN ONLY SOLVE ON A 10-MILE RUN. Like why I’m not on a 5-mile run. The first few miles are spent just unwinding, removing the baggage you’ve carried all day. Miles later, you reach a point where the only thing that lies ahead is a clear mind. These miles are special. They are worth the pain. This world is quiet, and for once, you can think without trying to. Here is your dream while awake. You gain insights into the seemingly unsolvable. But your body constantly reminds you these miles aren’t easy. Still, you keep going. Because there’s so much thinking to do. And someone has got to do it.

I can’t help but relate to every single sentence here.

It’s so honest and pure.

It’s like Morse code, meant to be understood only by runners.

I don’t even run in Adidas, but a part of me now wants to.

If you’re not solving a problem related to saving time, making more money, or using less effort, diving deep into the subconscious with the repeated question ‘why?’ can inspire killer ads like Dave’s.

Today’s ad write-up wasn’t going to be for Adidas.

But now that I’m fired up about running, let’s pour a bit of gasoline on these ads and write up something wicked.

ØØ8: Adidas

Let’s use Rory’s method.

Just keep asking ‘why’.

It’s simple.

Simple does NOT mean easy.

Don’t expect to whip out this ‘why’ question, race it a few laps around the cerebellum, and have an S-tier, blockbuster ad written in world-record time.

What you’re going to see below took me three days of wrestling with, a day off, and one more day to finalize.

Within that span, I ran two seperate days at 2.5 miles each.

Not that that matters, but it happened, so why leave it out of the story?

Okay, the copy:

I DON’T RUN FOR THE EXERCISE. Maybe it’s to feel winded. In that moment I’m thankful for my breath. Maybe it’s to feel like my chest is about to explode. Exactly like excitement and nervousness—all just to feel something really. Maybe it’s for the stiff calves. As I ran 10 miles in the previous week, wearing the stiffness feels like an earned badge of honor. Am I running to something? Am I running from something? Am I overthinking here? Not sure. All I know is I’m most alive right now. Let me run, let me think. It’s quiet here, here with me. I don’t run for exercise.

Really interesting.

I ran mine and Dave’s copy in ChatGPT for an analysis, dissecting the strong points of each and where each succeeds over the other.

My copy’s strong suit is that it has more of a stream-of-consciousness feel.

Dave’s strong suit is more structured, with an emphasis on the problem-solving aspect of running.

“The first copy feels more compelling if the goal is to connect emotionally with a wide range of runners. It taps into the visceral experience of running as a form of self-expression and introspection. Its rawness and honesty create a stronger, more personal connection with readers who see running as a way to feel rather than achieve.

The second copy is compelling for a more goal-driven, structured audience. It offers a clearer, more logical progression of thoughts, making it appealing for readers who might view running as a way to problem-solve or achieve mental clarity.”

I love Dave’s; his copy inspired me to write my own.

They both, in their own way, do the job.

Whose is better?

Who cares?

Only a split test would solve which is better.

Because, at the end of the day, it’s all about which sells more runners to runners.

That’s the end of today’s ad write-up.

Thanks for reaching the bottom.

Here’s a big hug.

You earned it.

Talk soon, bud.

‘Til next time,

Adrian

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ØØ7: Freshpet