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I know there are designated areas where one can run "au-natural" in public but I'm not positive where they exist in Juneau and, quite frankly, I am in no hurry to find them. I quickened through one in Italy, sprinted along one in Sweden, and accidentally put in four miles on one in Mexico. And it wasn't my shortcomings as a runner or lack of running ability that kept me from rubbing shoulders and exchanging training secrets with those more adequately suited to this "sport" of nudist running. No, I chose to remain clothed at these "clothes-optional" venues due to modesty, humility, and well, let's leave it at that. I have learned, however, that training runs (and hikes, bikes, and swims) seem to fare better for all involved when the appropriate amount of layers are attached in the appropriate locations.
Streaking through the earlier times 103009 OUTDOORS 3 Pure sole I know there are designated areas where one can run "au-natural" in public but I'm not positive where they exist in Juneau and, quite frankly, I am in no hurry to find them. I quickened through one in Italy, sprinted along one in Sweden, and accidentally put in four miles on one in Mexico. And it wasn't my shortcomings as a runner or lack of running ability that kept me from rubbing shoulders and exchanging training secrets with those more adequately suited to this "sport" of nudist running. No, I chose to remain clothed at these "clothes-optional" venues due to modesty, humility, and well, let's leave it at that. I have learned, however, that training runs (and hikes, bikes, and swims) seem to fare better for all involved when the appropriate amount of layers are attached in the appropriate locations.
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Friday, October 30, 2009

Story last updated at 10/30/2009 - 10:55 am

Streaking through the earlier times
By Klas Stolpe | Pure sole

I know there are designated areas where one can run "au-natural" in public but I'm not positive where they exist in Juneau and, quite frankly, I am in no hurry to find them. I quickened through one in Italy, sprinted along one in Sweden, and accidentally put in four miles on one in Mexico. And it wasn't my shortcomings as a runner or lack of running ability that kept me from rubbing shoulders and exchanging training secrets with those more adequately suited to this "sport" of nudist running. No, I chose to remain clothed at these "clothes-optional" venues due to modesty, humility, and well, let's leave it at that. I have learned, however, that training runs (and hikes, bikes, and swims) seem to fare better for all involved when the appropriate amount of layers are attached in the appropriate locations.

Imagine my surprise when streaks of youthful skin were sighted during a local pep rally at Juneau-Douglas High School. They escaped out a door and braved the unflattering (to the male body) chill of fall weather to speed to waiting escape vehicles. The identities of the youths (wearing just masks and running shoes) were soon discovered. I am not sure what the penalties are for voyeurism or nudity, or other such things, but I do know this was not gender equality Title IX stuff here... and my view was fleeting.

Growing up in the 1960s and 1970s, I always associated streaking with peace signs and sporting events. In videotaped footage of those naked runs, I always noticed the peace-sign fingers being flashed, big smiles, and on one occasion (evidently before sports bras were invented) the confusing path of a top-heavy runner on wet grass. I saw sun-deprived bodies making English soccer officials look comical. I saw the tail-end view of a high-stepping purist sprinting away with a golfer's 4-iron at the Augusta course in Georgia. I recall a luckless lad trying to scale the outfield wall at Wrigley Field. Then there was a poor and unfortunate soul who thought the football he had just pilfered during his naked scamper across a football field would remain in grasp as he ran past a Baltimore Colts linebacker. Streaking was an attention-grabbing fad and the peace sign seemed to always participate. Adequate wear may not have stopped any of these athletes from being injured in their endeavors, but it would have made the subsequent days decidedly less painful.

I have never participated in a nude training run, nor have my children, as far as I am aware. I have done similarly stupid things in high school ... and things more bold.

So, as I laced on my trail shoes to inch up Perseverance Trail after the recent high school streaking, and tuned my iPod to Buffalo Springfield's "There's Something Happening Here," I tightly zipped my double-fleece jacket and solemnly raised a peace sign high into the cool fall air, not in protest or conformity, but as I do when athletic feats inspire me to run.