Yes, I am writing a race report for two hours of prancing around Boulder without any pants on. And by "writing," I mean, "setting a good example as a blogger/coach/athlete/human by posting a lot of carefully cropped photos with some words sprinkled around that no one is going to read anyway."
I heard the rumblings of an underpants run about two weeks out from the race. Being 33 years old, and in good shape, and relatively obnoxious not to mention loud, I jumped on the chance to embrace it. I pow-wow'd with one of my close friends here in Boulder, Jen - she gets most of the credit for the design and I'll take the hit for the 50-gallon foam cowboy hats. (This is Geoff, our massage therapist, who was legitimately concerned that all of his clients would find it awkward to be around HIM not wearing much clothing. That makes me laugh.).
The run started and ended at Boulder Running Company. We got dressed at the gym and rode over since SOMEONE didn't want to walk four blocks down 30th Street barely dressed in broad daylight. I figured we would be lost in the sea of ripped triathletes in their underwear, but instead I was a little bit surprised to find that enormous cowboy hats are hard to hide. We spent a lot of time posing for new Facebook profile pictures everywhere (mostly men in Texas) and honestly just laughing our asses off at how fantastically ridiculous the whole thing was. (Who shows up to an underpants run with clothes on?)
Eventually all the picture-taking stopped and the run started. We ran at Michael Lovato's easy run pace (rude) down Pearl Street to the mall, where we did a few lunges and squats and then turned around and ran back. Someone set up a beer stop (I did not partake, I only drink beer with a timing chip on), tons of people came out to high-five us as we ran, there was plenty of honking and really there isn't much else to say so I'll stop babbling and just post photos.
There was a best dressed contest, we came in third place (got robbed).
Apolo Ohno obviously wanted to have his picture taken with us (for his Facebook profile picture, I am sure).
Then I found a picture of him on 303 Triathlon checking out my sweet, sweet ass instead of Michael Lovato's.
And I got a lot of startled looks when I stopped to pump gas in Longmont on the way home.
There's probably no way to say this that doesn't sound incredibly conceited and like my ego weighs a billion pounds, but I'm going to say it anyway. Two years ago, I never would have done this. I would have hidden under a tank top and boy shorts and still dodged anyone with a camera of any kind. Being able to be out in broad daylight, dressed like this, is something that made me feel incredibly vulnerable. I am still not completely comfortable in my own body - maybe no one is, maybe I will never be, maybe self-image is something I will always struggle with no matter how fit and strong and beautiful-machine my physical self may be. But I did it anyway, and I had a blast, and I think we kind of rocked the hell out of it. Now I understand why everyone loves it when these runs happen, because it was the perfect thing to do three days before ironman (not to mention all the hot triathletes in tighty whities). We quite literally laughed so hard that my abs were sore doing flip-turns in the pool the next morning. And anything that I can do the week of ironman that takes my mind off the big scary thing I'm about to tackle and leaves me feeling joyful and light and only a little bit silly, well, I always want to do that thing.