Baby your Nipples

One, I haven’t written in quite a while, so this shit’s gonna be entirely unreadable. Two, I’m really not sure about the subject matter–which is not as exciting as shoes–but I’ll try anything twice, so hold your horses for just a sec and we’ll figure this out together.

I think it was a relatively mild Austin summer. And by mild I mean that you can walk outside in the middle of the day without the completely rational fear that you’ll just burst into flames. ThankyoulittlebabyJesus that we have Amazonian humidity though, so you have the opportunity to suffocate before the flames consume you, saving you some level of discomfort.

Of course we still run, no matter what the temperature is¹. It’s what we do when we do what we do, because we’re OCD, Type A and all that other shit that could totally be remedied with some simple real deal pharmaceuticals² rather than the daily practices of exercise, meditation, letting go, giving the benefit of the doubt and all the other things that you’ve maybe heard about somewhere probably.

The downside to running in the heat and humidity is that there’s lots and lots of chafing. I don’t care what you’re wearing or not wearing, even the expensive shit—your Lululemon and what have you—it’s all the same. It’s 300 grit sandpaper v. 40 grit. It’s still sandpaper. You’re still losing skin, is what I’m saying.

I’ve never really had a problem with all that though. I don’t know why. Except for my nipples. My nipples get hamburgered, like, bad.   But that’s mostly my fault. I still prefer to wear the cotton t-shirts most of the time.³ I don’t know why, I just do. But they get real heavy from all the sweat and so then it’s like wearing heavy sandpaper. Also, I got the big nipples. I’m not talking circumference, I mean it’s like I’ve got toothpaste tube caps glued to my chest. It’s why I don’t run shirtless, ever. I’m shy.

Recently I was sent some of those Nip Strips. Those things you stick on your nipples so they don’t get sanded off when you run. Kinda like clear tape, except different. I remember back in the day seeing pictures of Rob deCastella racing marathons with tape on his nipples, and I thought that was kinda weird, but I was like, 11 and hadn’t yet fully developed my appreciation for nipples.⁴

James, the guy who sent me the Nip Strips, is this super happy, jovial kinda guy. Probably got really good nipples that don’t chafe or whatever. But he said I should try ‘em out and let him know what I thought. I felt kinda weird talking to him about my nipples, but I was all, cool, and then promptly forgot about them.

I was on the road, working. You know, hotels and shit. Business stuff.Customers. America. The cool part is that I get to run in different places and check out the different sights. I drive a shit ton, so sometimes I need to do a run in the morning before I get on the road and then again at the end of the day so I don’t feel all compacted and pretzeled from all the driving and sitting. Which means my nips are getting double the abuse. So I thought, shit man, this’ll be as good a time as any to try them, since, like, no one is watching.

And then I kind of forgot about them again. Ran some beautiful trails and through some beautiful rich people neighborhoods. Did a track workout.⁵  Had some good runs. About the third day, randomly, I thought, damn, my nipples are awesome. I mean, I’d forgotten about them. Totally forgot. On runs, after runs, in the shower, whenever. Nothing. My nipples were rocking. And then I realized that I was still wearing the damn things. Still. Shit was still on there. Three days, four runs, four showers. I’m serious. I’m kinda embarrassed to say it, but they were. And when I pulled them off, didn’t hurt a bit. No loss of hair. No further loss of skin.

So what I’m saying is that the old adage that Alls you need is a good pair of shoes to run in is kinda outdated. It really should be Alls you need is a good pair of shoes to run in, and some Nip Strips sos your nipples don’t projectile bleed.  Seriously they need to make them in black though.  So punk rock.

 

 

 

 

¹Fuck if I know.  Idiots.

²Xanax, Oxy, Adderal, whatever. Why, what do you have?

³Masochism.

⁴About 10 seconds after I saw a picture of Wendy O. Williams.  Electrical tape. Hot

⁵Not gonna tell you about it. Humiliating. Raw nips were the best part.