Left: Jacqui Salmond ran onto the 18th green at St. Andrews,
interrupting the 2000 British Open; Melissa Johnson joined the pre-match
photo session at the 1996 Wimbledon Finals
While
streaking of the 1960s and ’70s seemed to be driven by a the same
spirit of fun and adventure that compels a 3-year-old to take all his
clothes off and run fully nude into the middle of his parents’ dinner
party, there’s something a little off in our increasingly enlightened
culture about forcing a person to look at one’s naked body without the
permission of the observers. Especially considering that being forced to
look at nudity isn’t always that fun for observers.
Now,
at Notre Dame, the much-gawked-at Bun Run of old has become a source of
on-campus controversy and moral hand-wringing. Understandably so. Some
people just want to study during finals!
There
are also safety concerns for large public events where everybody’s
naked. Princeton University had to axe its Nude Olympics in 1999 after
seven students were hospitalized due to injuries obtained ostensibly
while nude. There’s also the injury to a reputation or criminal record;
ending up on a sex offender list is not worth the adrenaline rush of
briefly interrupting a soccer game with your peacemaker. That perhaps
explains the trend of today’s streakers, like Zdorovetskiy, leaving
their goods under wraps instead of going full flop.
Streaking
embodies the opposite of what runners love about running. Road and
trail races require months of planning and bring strangers together to
cheer for other strangers who have been training for months, if not
years. Strip all the dignity from running—the self-discipline,
commitment, sportsmanship, order—and what do you get? A 19-year-old
sophomore in a foam cowboy hat who may have flunked his organic chem
final that morning but, for a glorious few minutes, is greeted like a
hero breaking the tape at Boston.

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