There was a time in my life where I would not be caught dead without a shirt on in any type of public situation. It was a combination of factors really. I was either too fat, too skinny, too pale or too freckly. It was always something I avoided if at all possible. I knew I would be mortified if someone made a comment or gave me an odd look. It did not even matter what the comments were. I knew they were thinking something cruel in their minds and, to a certain degree, that was even worse. Your imagination always conjures up the worst possible things and I could only imagine what these people would think of me.
Something changed a little over a year ago. I was in my second year of really getting serious about running. I was setting goals and tracking my miles, but I did not really understand the importance of proper gear. I was managing my aches and pains, learning how to pace myself, but damn if I could not figure out why my nipples felt like they were on fire every time I ran (I would later learn cotton + man boobies = chaffed nipples). It's kind of funny in retrospect, but at the time it was agonizing.
Finally, on an awesome 70 degree spring day, I had decided I had enough. I was about 2 miles into what turned into an 8 mile run and I felt like my nipples had been rubbed off my chest with sandpaper somewhere betwen the first and second mile. At the start of mile 3, around the Lincoln Memorial I tore my shirt off. It was incredible. I didn't care. I felt good. I was still jiggly, I was still pale and freckly, but I felt liberated. It just felt natural, like I should have done it years ago. That feeling made up for any stupid remarks or looks that I got (there really weren't any). This paralyzing fear that I had been experiencing for a good portion of my life was completely unfounded.
However, I felt so good that even if all of my worst fears had been realized, it would have been worth it. Everytime I go out now, if it's warm enough, I run bare chested and to a certain degree, I still get that excitement, that rush, the feeling of freedom. I've actually taken it a bit overboard now. I never want to wear shirts anymore, not to run or to walk around the house. Additionally, that jiggle I felt while "running naked" actually helped get me motivated to get into even better shape. Over the last year, I've added definition and amazingly enough, even a little muscle mass. That split second decision to remove my shirt was really a life altering experience.
Now, I'm sure there are those of you that are out there that are going to say, "Oh, I don't know about that, I've just got a little too much love around my midsection" or "Nobody wants to see what I have underneath this" and my answer is, who cares? This the way your body was meant to be and this is the way your body's natural cooling mechanisms are built to function. Forget about "wicking" t-shirts. Sweat cools you down by evaporating from your skin and this function works even better without an artificial layer between you and the elements. I even convinced my wife to shed the layers last night for her run this morning and I think I've made her a believer.
I must caveat this to a certain degree. I am not a woman and I can not fully comprehend the harassment that women experience when they run and I suspect that criticism is likely compounded when women "run naked." With that being said, and I will close with this thought, you are out there exercising, transforming your body and improving your life, but what is the person harassing you doing? They're probably some no-class, mouth-breathing, scumbag, lowlife who is doing nothing to better themselves. Where will they be six months from now and where will you be?
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