Running: Solitary Sanctuary in a Tornado of Tackiness

Although it is true that runners seem to come from multifarious social and economic backgrounds, most of them exhibit universal characteristics: such as good health, perseverance (often mislabeled as obsessiveness), and a propensity for injuries. Perhaps the most significant and praiseworthy—yet overlooked—common quality of runners, however, is their avoidance of that one attribute which defiantly raises its hideous hand in the actions and attitudes of a great majority of Americans—an unbridled affinity for tackiness.

I had noticed some evidence of this at my first race in 1979, when I observed that runners actually used the rearview mirrors in their cars to see behind them and not as a display receptacle for large fuzzy dice or Playboy paraphernalia. At first upon noticing that they were also able to see clearly out of their rear windows without the visual impediments of a head-wobbling German Shepherd or a huge white hand signaling “We’re Number One,” I had mistaken these actions as manifestations of safety consciousness. But on becoming aware that most of their cars were devoid of not only the usual variety of mindless bumperstickers, but also any extolling the benefits of running. i.e., “Marathoners do it longer,” or “Running makes old men hard again,” I began to realize that this behavioral pattern hinted of something of much greater significance.

Finally, it was with the realization that after perusing the few thousand names on one of the Cooper River Bridge Race results and never coming across any female runners with the names Tammy, Heather, Tiffany, Kimberly, Beulah, Benkie, Barfie, or Sissy, or males named Shawn (Sean), Billy Bob, Elmo, Elvis, or Bubba, that my suspicions were at least confirmed. Ever since, I have been consciously (and unconsciously) compiling evidence to document my theory.

Not without a sigh of relief did I record that I had never seen a runner indule in one of America’s grisliest pastimes, the public display of toothpick dexterity, even though opportunities are frequently available to them with after-race snacks. This particular phenomenon so impressed me that I fantasied that if a runner should ever cast ignominy upon his group by committing this atrocity against decorum, he should receive the just punishment of being confined in a room with a single toothpick. There he would be forcefed vast quantities of steamed oysters, spinach, and corn-on-the-cob until he had gouged out enough picking to sculpt a one-foot high bust of the Ayatollah Khomeni.

I’ve also noticed that even though some male runners may wear a single unobtrusive gold chain, I’ve never encountered one who sought to challenge Mr. T.’s glittering adornments. Nor do I ever observe the hirsute helmet effect of excessive hairspray or curler and kerchief headdresses on female runners.
Perhaps the runner’s complete repudiation of the world of tackiness is never more apparent than when he’she is compared to the athletes of other sports. How often do you see runners standing around in public scratching or rearranging their “private parts,” besplattering streets with Red Man, or kicking dirt on race officials? How often do you see a runner spike his/her trophy after winning a race or a group of early finishers (the “Run Bunch”) leaping in the air to form a circular high five? Can you imagine penalty boxes along a race route for runners who engage in fouling or fisticuffs? Can you visualize Alberto Salazar menacingly pointing his fist at Rob DeCastella during a pre-race interview and exhorting, “I’m gonna’ run right up your back, jerk face!”?

Even the so-called gentlemen’s sports of sailing, tennis, and polo are not immune from it. One need only regard all the tacky bumper stickers: “I’d rather be sailing,” “Tennis Bum,” “Boone Hall Plantation Polo.” Tackiness, as with most dreaded diseases, knows no socio-economic boundaries, however, runners, for the most part, have remained healthy.

As for the reason why runners have been able to elude the talons of tackiness, I feel that it is more than likely something inherent in running itself that purges one of his/her tacky tendencies, and which I feel is probably learned rather than inherited. I’ve known individuals who shed their tackiness after taking up running and some who regained it after stopping. For instance, a friend of mine who prior to becoming involved in running had always pestered me about coming over to see his Franklin Mint Commemorative coin collection. He never mentioned it to me again after he started running, but then almost immediately upon stopping, invited me over to listen to his video tapes of local car dealership commercials.

Perhaps it has something to do with the increased amount of oxygen circulating through the brains of runners for prolonged periods which improved the runners’ cognitive powers and also allows him/her to discern tackiness more easily.

Cynics notwithstanding, I feel certain that the revelation will increase the health of the general public significantly by attracting more of them to running. And perhaps even more important, it will no doubt, lead indirectly to the extinction of “That’s Incredible,” plastic lawn ornaments, and one-size-fits-all clothing.

(Originally published March 1984)