The Conical Glass: The slowest race

Sunday, May 20, 2007

The slowest race

I realized Bay to Breakers wasn't your ordinary footrace when I was waiting for the event to begin, and noticed that the people immediately to my left were smoking pot. Some other folks were downing Jell-O shots. And then there were the half-dozen or so people dressed as Team Zissou, pushing a shopping cart filled with beer.

Somewhere far, far ahead of me, a bunch of fleet-footed Kenyans were poised at the starting line. One of them wound up winning the 12K (7.46 miles) race, with a time of just under 35 minutes. As John Korir crossed the finish, I was finally reaching the start -- along with people in Homer Simpson masks, a banana, a nun, butterflies, folks in gorilla suits, dozens of women in tutus, a few men in tutus, and a guy imitating Will Ferrell in the "Needs more cowbell" sketch from "Saturday Night Live."

Of course, there were some "real" runners too. But on the whole, Bay to Breakers, a San Francisco tradition for over 90 years, is a race where silliness reigns supreme. As I turned onto Ninth Street, dozens of people in elaborate salmon costumes came through, running the opposite way of everyone else -- swimming upstream, get it? Approximately 35,000 people, including myself, pay $40 to become an official race participant, but another 25,000 or so don't bother. Since there are so many people, it's not like anyone can check and pull people off the course if they don't have a number. Without one, your time won't be recorded, but I suspect a lot of the folks who come out to party don't make it all the way to the end of the race anyhow.

The course runs from a point near the Embarcadero, all the way across San Francisco, through Golden Gate Park, to the finish line by the Pacific Ocean. It took me an hour to go the first four miles, which is a ridiculously slow pace even by my slowpoke standards. I just couldn't break through the throngs of people clogging the streets. Walkers are supposed to keep to the right, but that's taken about as seriously as the "no nudity" and "no alcohol" regulations. (Yes, a lot of people -- mostly 50ish men, by the looks of it -- run the race nude. I've seen enough pasty white asses to last me a good long time.)

Finally, when we crossed into Golden Gate Park, things opened up a little and the remaining three and three-quarter miles passed quickly. I slowed down a bit to admire some of the scenery in the park: the new DeYoung museum, which I still have yet to visit; the gorgeous, Victorian Conservatory of Flowers; the bison paddock; and the north windmill. It was a beautiful, sunny, warm morning; I felt sorry for the people in big furry costumes, because they must have been sweating up a storm. I was actually surprised when the finish line came into view because it didn't really feel like I'd gone almost eight miles.

My feeling of triumph was short-lived, since the closest parking space Joe had been able to find was up near the Sutro Baths, a long, long hike uphill. Seriously, the walk to the car was the most difficult part of the race. So when you add it all up, I surely traveled over nine miles on my feet! Throw in another three miles, and you've got yourself a half-marathon! (By the way, it totally makes sense to me now why the Nike Marathon keeps such a tight limit on the number of runners. The streets of SF may look wide, but pack 'em with 60,000 walkers and runners and it gets crowded.)

I wouldn't necessarily want to do it again, but at least I can say I've participated in one of the things that makes San Francisco weird. The next race I have coming up is a 10K and having run it in the past, I can attest to the fact that it attracts a far more serious crowd.

(Below: I kid you not, this flyer was included in the official race packet.)

posted by 125records @ 3:54 PM

2 Comments:

At 5:53 PM, yellojkt said…

That sounds like a race worth taking up running for. I can run a mile tops. Congrats on the race and good luck on your next one.
At 5:04 AM, Josh said…

When I lived in the Bay Area, our company HR person was based in the Boston office, who was kind of uptight, was a fairly serious runner, and Bay to Breakers coincided with one of her trips to the west coast, so she decided to enter. I don't think anyone warned her. I remember the next day when she told me "I was right behind one of the nudies!" in mingled fascination and horror. It cracked me up.