I tweeted or Instagram'ed myself once after a sweaty run wanting to demonstrate the sheer amount of sweat I generated on a hot and humid run. (Don't knock it...spend a few minutes on Instagram and you'll find plenty of runner sweat photos.) Kind of like a runner's badge of honor. The more you sweat, the better the workout. My run friend Dustin responded with "Nice Weiner pic Ty!" I promptly removed the post. "Weiner" was the U.S. Representative who got busted flashing his pecs and "marky marks" to his mistress. This wasn't Ryan Gosling flashing his pecs, this was the kid who got beat up in High School that made it to the House of Representatives. No one wants to see Weiner's weiner except Mrs. Weiner...that is prior to her viewing his sophomoric phone chat blunder.
|Does anyone really want to see this guy without his shirt on?|
Even before Dustin's "Weiner" comment, I'd already had a bit of an unwritten rule that kept my shirtless activities to the swimming pool and in the privacy of my home. I can only think of one or two runs where I've run topless on a run. Perhaps my wife's "stadium rule" was playing in my head.
That all changed today. I was out late last night catching Robert Plant at Red Rocks (catch my Facebook page if you're a Plant fan--awesome show!) I had early calls which meant no early morning run. Evening was not an option, so that meant a lunch run. My run coach had a 60 minute "recovery run" scheduled. I started late as I couldn't find my running water bottle. My teenage sons had done the dishes the night before and the lid to my Amphipod water bottle was gone. Probably in the land fill at this point because it was trash day. I took way too much time looking for it and frustrated, I poured my Generation UCAN chilled drink from my lidless water bottle into an empty water bottle from the recycle bin. What this all meant was I took off in the peak of the afternoon heat. I'd learn later that it hit 100 degrees.
I was stubborn and did not want to take the run indoors. It was sweltering hot. As I ran out of my neighborhood people stared at me like I was crazy. "Who runs in this kinda heat,?" they seemed to wonder. I did not run "Weiner style" (shirtless,) but was in a singlet and my short run shorts. I picked a route that went along a canal trail near my house, but heading southwest instead of northeast, it passed a landscape supply yard. The wind blew the mulch dust in my face and it felt like Hades. It smelled like it too. "I love running," I kept thinking to myself.
Screw this...I took off the singlet around the forty minute mark. Mulchdust stuck to my sweaty torso. Housewifes were swerving off the road "rubber-necking" at the near-naked man running in Conservativeville, USA. Dogs threw up when they saw me, and smelled me. I did not Instagram this run with a #selfie. I got into the house without anyone realized I'd just shamed myself in my own zipcode. My wife did not catch Representative Weiner enter the house or the shower. Of course, now it's on the internet, and I've been exposed (pun intended.)
Author's Footnote: For the running readers, what rules (if any) should apply to the male runner and topless running. I limit this to the word "male" since I have never seen a female topless runner unless cable t.v. counts.