I need to feel like a bad-ass when I run.
Like I could just walk into a room and be the coolest thing there with a pair-a stunna shades and lips shinier than the chrome on P. Diddy’s rims. That’s pretty much the opposite of what I really am with my fleece zip-up hoodie and my Carmex. The nerdiest thing there, maybe. Coolest thing, not so much.