The Right to Bare Arms

It was 49 degrees and foggy this morning, but I did it: I ran in my first sleeveless shirt of the season. I probably wouldn’t have if I hadn’t spent the last two days psyching myself up for it – normally it has to be well into the 50s for me to reveal my shoulders outdoors. But once I passed the two mile mark, I was glad I’d trusted my gut.

There’s something so freeing about wearing fewer articles of clothing on a run. I don’t know if this is purely or even partly psychological, but I’ve noticed that wearing less always makes me go a little faster. Maybe it’s an involuntary reaction to my body being on the cold side: it wants to speed up. I didn’t mean to go any faster this morning than the last two times I ran, but I did. Slightly. I wonder if my naked arms had anything to do with it. I totally get why elite runners wear next to nothing, even in frigid temps.

We’re supposed to have record highs for the next two days, so I don’t know if the sleeveless shirts are here to stay until next fall, but it was nice to experience the feeling of air on my skin. Especially my armpits. Look how happy my armpits are!

It’s also fun running through fog. It doesn’t happen often where I live. When I lived in L.A., I’d go hiking two or three times a week and my favorite days were absolutely the ones I got to literally walk through clouds. The sun was not my friend in L.A. Neither was any company I applied to, for that matter. Luckily, life has changed since I lived in L.A.

I had a teensy bit of inner thigh soreness this morning, so I’m going to stretch a bunch today and see how I feel tomorrow. It’s supposed to be more of the same tomorrow morning. Maybe I’ll even bare my legs.