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The Tufts Daily
Where you read it first | Tuesday, February 18, 2025

Cole Liberator | Hot Peas and Butter

<$> Yes it's that time of the year again, when the temperature dips below zero, work starts piling up, and Tufts' most popular sporting event, the Naked Quad Run, takes place.

Tuftonians have long celebrated the end of classes by streaking through the quad. But in recent years, this time-honored tradition has been put in jeopardy due to a few unfortunate accidents and a certain member of the administration who shall remain nameless. So to ensure that the NQR doesn't go the way of the Geri curl, here are a few NQR do's and don'ts.

Before we begin I have to confess that I myself have never taken a lap around the quad naked. Junior year I was abroad and freshman year I was confused. As for sophomore year, I never made it out of my room, although I did learn a valuable life lesson.

If you wake up in the clothes you wore the previous night, hurriedly walk to the review session you are already 10 minutes late for, and notice that a lot of people are staring at you with a mixture of horrified shock and muffled laughter, there is a reason. And it's not because you're sweating alcohol and swaying from side to side. It's because there's a penis drawn on your forehead.

I have only actually made it to the quad once. Of all the hazy moments of that night my favorite was standing outside of West with easily over 2,000 people after the fire alarm was pulled. As we all anxiously waited for something to happen, a cop climbed the stairs and addressed the crowd, saying, "All right, don't pull any more fire alarms. Now everyone get back in there."

What followed was a collective scream of joy from the masses and a huge grin on the policeman's face. I'm sure he must have felt like a rock star. Too bad he was probably fired the next day.

Since I don't want to be branded a hypocrite, I chose to do some investigative journalism and ask some NQR veterans for their two cents. The names have been changed to protect the innocent, but the stories, and the tips, are all true. For the sake of equality I asked one girl and one guy. Let's call the guy Carl S. and the girl Clay A. What follows is their advice on how to make this year's naked jaunt the best possible.

Any good run starts with preparation. While at first you may be pretty confident you can make it a lap or two around the quad without any problem, you have to take into account the alcohol factor. If you've ever had to do your best Dr. Richard Kimble impression after a party got broken up, then you know what I'm talking about. And if you haven't, well, everyone has seen "COPS."

There's a reason why people lining the streets of a marathon hand out cups of water instead of glasses of scotch. Although it may be a little late to get into marathon shape, a run tonight, fully clothed, is not a bad idea. A little pre-race stretching can't hurt either. Just please, refrain from removing your clothes until afterwards.

Now for the attire. Wear shoes. You won't get any "non-naked" deduction points from the crowd for strapping on some trainers. Trust me no one will be looking at your shoes. As Red said, "How many times do you notice a person's shoes ... when they're naked?" (It's in the director's cut I swear). It's slippery out there and your judgment may be a little skewed already thanks to the sauce.

Speaking of alcohol, it's not suggested. It's not even strongly recommended. It's an absolute requirement. First of all it's the last day of classes, so why wouldn't you be drinking? Beyond that, the combination of liquid courage and the pseudo-warmth that booze provides is crucial to NQR success. While it's not absolutely necessary for you to be in full blackout mode, Clay A. suggests that if you are a first timer you should drink enough to "not know your own name."

Some people try to save face and mask their identity with a paper bag or stocking. Bad idea. Why? Because when you start stumbling around, inevitably run into a tree, and knock yourself unconscious you are going to draw a crowd.

It's happened before. And when that crowd realizes that you are down for the count they are going to have to remove that bag. Then instead of being a moving naked person you are an unconscious naked person with a crowd hovering around you. So much for anonymity.

As far as timing goes, don't start when everyone is finishing. The run starts around 10 and this is one time where you don't want to be too fashionably late for the party. Make sure you are out there for at least two laps, but fewer than four. Any more than four is too much, according to Mr. S. because "by that time they know when you are coming around and you know where they are. It could get a little weird."

Sticking with the awkward theme, there's the question of what to do with your clothes. There are basically three options for where to stash them: a) in a nearby room, b) hidden in a bush somewhere, or c)with a trustworthy friend. The first should be done only if you have an easy way to get back into the room (i. e. key, open window, crobar, etc.). The second is usually successful provided you do it without being seen. The third is also a good option as long as you follow this one requirement; don't give your clothes to a good friend of the opposite sex.

"It's awkward when you get your clothes back that night," Clay A. said, "and it doesn't get any better the next morning."

As far as the next morning, you'll most likely wake up in your bed, or in someone else's bed, or maybe in a bush, or on the porch of that person who shall not be named. Then you'll start to see a few blurry snapshots in your mind.

You'll start to panic because you can't remember what happened last night. Did you make a complete ass out of yourself? When that feeling hits, just remember to relax, because among runners and non-runners alike, no one else remembers either.