Is it OK to go running without a shirt?
Are there more people running shirtless these days?
Hard to say, given the fact that there are probably just more people running, in general, given that many took it up when the gyms closed back in early pandemic days. I’m a walker and not really immersed in running culture, but I’m pretty sure I’m noticing it more lately.
As does my friend Ben Kaplan, general manager of iRun.ca, an online running community and magazine, who says he was recently having lunch on a patio in New York’s Meatpacking District and, of the roughly 30 runners that passed, he counted about 25 that were bare-chested. He says there’s even a certain “type.”
“It’s kind of like, they’re young, a lot of them have a Ciele cap and the overlap between the people who run shirtless and the people who have tattoos is very high,” Kaplan says. “It’s not exactly exhibitionist, but it’s also not not exhibitionist.”
Kaplan doesn’t have ink sleeves but he still loves the way running without a shirt feels on a hot day. His wife and kids? Not so much. They think it’s gross. And he’s well-aware they’re not the only ones who think that way, which is why he tries to pick his shirtless moments carefully.
“I mean, going shirtless on the Martin Goodman Trail is no problem and nobody cares,” he says. “If you run on College Street with your shirt off, though, that could appear selfish because it’s that fine line between what feels good for you and interfering with other people.”
Especially now that sidewalks double as sprawling patios. Public space is at a premium these days and nobody wants a sweaty shirtless runner whizzing past you as you tuck into a plate of porcini agnolotti paired with a glass of albariño.
But this isn’t just a story about esthetics and public space. It’s actually much more complicated since going topless isn’t an accessible or realistic option for many — it’s actually a privilege enjoyed by a few. So, too, is running safely and comfortably, which is an experience denied to people of colour, people who identify as women and gender-non-conforming folks. If you’re a person who is at risk of being harassed just while walking around, something about picking up the pace seems to make existing problems worse.
“I feel I experience more harassment when I’m running than just walking around and I’ve often wondered why that is,” says Gina Stocco, a Toronto runner. “Part of me thinks that maybe some of the people who would do that see a woman out there doing something for herself and maybe it’s to knock you down a peg. Maybe it’s a power or control thing.”
Stocco actually started running in a sports bra (no shirt) relatively recently. She braced herself for an uptick in harassment but isn’t sure that it’s any worse than before. But, although, running in a sports bra is removing one layer and possibly exposing ourselves to more harassment, it isn’t the same as going shirt-free, something that most women would say they can’t do.
“Isn’t it funny, though, that the language is that ‘we can’t’?” she says.
“We can, but it comes with all these different things that you have to think about, like safety and even just body image and what it’s like to be a person who identifies as a woman out in public and feeling that other people feel so entitled that they expect you to look a certain way to please them while you’re out.”
And we “can,” because, 30 years ago, University of Guelph student, Gwen Jacob, went topless on a hot and humid day and was charged with indecency. She took her case to the Court of Appeal, where it was overturned and, thanks to her, “topfreedom” is currently legal in Ontario. That doesn’t necessarily make it viable, however.
“Even though I’m in my forties and I care a lot less about what anybody thinks about me than ever before, I would never feel comfortable topless,” says Lucy Sterezylo, a Toronto runner and letterpress printer, “I know, in theory, I could. And lawfully I can. But I just think I would ever get past that hurdle of wondering about other peoples’ gazes, which is so unfortunate. Actually, as I say it, it’s infuriating.”
Sterezylo says that, as a person who identifies as a woman, there’s just a certain point growing up when you’re told to put your shirt on. She wonders what it would feel like to be free from these burdens and constraint and simply enjoying the freedom to bike, swim and, of course, run without a shirt on, especially as the summers get warmer and more stifling.
“I have a couple of kids and my youngest one is gender nonconforming and some days they’ll run around without a shirt on and they’re just so butch and then, on some days, they’re in a dress,” she says. “And I hope that continues as long as it can but I don’t think everything is changing as quickly as it needs to recapture that beauty of youth and that freedom to not care. People should really not give a s--t about it. That’s how it should be.”
Ben Kaplan says, other than his family, most people don’t really seem to care about his bare chest.
“I’ve been teased by my teammates, like good-natured ribbing,” he recalls. “But certainly never heard anything like hey, ‘fatso, put on a shirt you hairy monkey.’ I’ve never been catcalled or harassed or abused, so I’m sure that this is a gender thing.”
It’s a way deeper problem than it first appears. It’s not so much an etiquette issue as it is about barriers to exercise that are baked-in to assumptions about race, gender, class and sexuality. A good start, however, might at least be if the runners who enjoy the freedom not to care became aware of how few of the rest of us do and how rare a privilege it is that they enjoy.
“It starts off as just taking a piece of fabric off,” Stocco says.
“But there are so many layers.”