In a Western Place

More like the race from Nob Hill to the Beach Chalet, 2008.

I had every intention to run in this year's Bay to Breakers, but thanks in part to my undying love of procrastination, Zone 1 sold out and I would have been forced to register for Zone 2. Zone 1 is for folks that will complete the race in under 2 hours, and Zone 2 is for the folks that will complete it in 2-4 hours — mostly walkers. While could have registered in Zone 2, then play "catch up" to the Zone 1 pace... no, this is Bay to Breakers, and it would have looked a lot like this:

and this:

and this:

and ew, this:

We're talking hundreds of thousands of costumed people, drinking, urinating, laughing, fighting, dancing... all before noon on a Sunday. This isn't a race you might say, and you'd be correct; at least not this part. It's just another one of these bizarre San Franciscan traditions that you don't question, you just sort of go with it, even if it means have your retina's burned out by the sight of some REALLY old naked dudes. Naked and against the war. They had the body paint to prove it.

In brief, Matty and I overslept and we started the race from my home at 10:30am. The race officially started at 8:00am, so the real runners were long gone. We caught up to the pack around Fell street, next to Alamo Square — (the location of the infamous Painted Ladies, otherwise known as the Full House houses). I had every intention of photographing the event, but I stupidly swapped the charged battery in my camera with a dead one before we left. Dumb.The top photo is mine, the rest are Matty's. After my mistake rendered me fairly grouchy during the rest of the Fell Street leg (to put it lightly), but my attitude brightened once we entered Golden Gate Park, where it was impossible not to smile at the random things people dressed up as. Matty and I moved at full speed, and barreled through the parade, knocking over anyone in our path. Once we reached the end, our finish line being one of our favorite out-of-the-way restaurants, the Beach Chalet (on the Great American Highway), we had completed 7 of the 7.49 miles.

We ate buffalo wings and creme brulee, then hopped on the #5 bus for a long ride home... until a fight between a fairly inebriated dude in skimpy shorts and an another guy dressed as a Double Dare contestant broke out, forcing the bus to stop. There's never a dull moment in this city, that's for sure.