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Bumpy streak
Published on 09/02/08
by Maureen
We always used to joke about running naked in high school, which was specifically humorous for me because I was the only girl in the top ten sporting anything larger than an A-cup. Oh, and I have a sizable amount of junk in the trunk.
But Runner’s World took our joke full force with “Running Free,” by Adam Buckley Cohen on page 56 in March. It’s a short column in their “Personal Record” section about running a clothing optional 5K.
Cohen says he was trying to get away from the conservative middle-aged guy he had become and aside from some reservations on race morning, he went balls out with the nudity (sorry, that was there).
“When the gun went off, the first few hundred yards proved rather, um, bumpy,” Cohen writes. “And just like that, I was no longer running nude, I was just racing.”
I’m glad he didn’t describe that in more graphic detail. It only brings me to the memory of senior cross country sleepover in high school, when we decided, after we were already in pajamas, to TP the guys’ captains. The feeling of running braless away from the light that came on in Dan’s basement could be better described as floppy, at least for me. And that was just a short sprint to the car. Yuck.
“The race brochure had promised to free runners from ‘the burden of their clothes,’” Cohen writes. “But on the drive home, it struck me that the entire adventure had proved decidely unliberating. Sure, for a few minutes, I had forgottend about my nakednes. But untherwise, my unclohted loins were all I’d thought about. Call me repressed, but the most liberating moment came when I pulled my shorts back on. My strait-laced life - and it’s wardrobe- suited me.”
I wonder if it was other people looking or the sheer pain of bouncing that made Cohen want to put his shorts back on. I have little shame about my body at the moment, so I’m not sure I’d care about other people looking at my naughty bits; but those are also the same things I least want to hurt. What if you fall? No fabric to prevent you from tearing your– self– up. And what about those people who shouldn’t ever be naked but inevitably show up rockin’ out with their cocks out for the run? 
Still, I’m intrigued. I mean, who DOESN’T want to try their hobby naked, at least just to know what it feels like, just once? Give me a one-miler, I’ll give it a go. Even if I end up crossing the finish line holding up twins in my hands, it will have been worth the try. But no online race pics, please.
The run is over. Now what?
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