Return to Bay 2 Breakers
That didn’t happen.
A long wait while hurling tortillas
Parking can be hard to come by in downtown San Francisco. And public transportation can be cumbersome if traveling from another part of the Bay Area, though a ferry will get you within easy reach of starting corrals. We opted to take a shuttle from a Mill Valley Park ‘n Ride to the start. (“We” being me, my daughter and son-in-law, who are B2B regulars.) Similar shuttles operated from Emeryville in East Bay and Millbrae to the south. This meant we arrived 90 minutes before the start, and since the corrals are in the financial district, there wasn’t much to do at 7 on a Sunday morning besides make liberal use of unspoiled portable toilets. No coffee shops or buildings are open, and no residential buildings are nearby. Thankfully, the weather was good – 50s with minimal wind. And standing an extra hour and half didn’t have the negative impact it might.
Our corral, like all the other corrals, wasn’t as packed as pre-pandemic times but it still filled with plenty of costumed characters, drunk fraternity brothers, old-timers, newcomers and lots and lots of flying tortillas. This is a tradition of which no one knew its roots. But everyone got in on the action. I had a couple of impressive throws, but the ratio of throws to hits was about 1:3.
A longer run than expected
I knew the ranks were leaner based on how quickly earlier corrals were sent off. We took off at 8:20 a.m. and everyone did indeed run. It was actually an easy pace as we waited for the ranks to thin out. OK, I could go farther, I told myself. My daughter and son-in-law followed alongside me. We were cruising toward Hayes Hill just after Mile 2 when my daughter said she wanted to keep running till the hill.
This area I recalled from an earlier race was party central, with all the residents on stoops and sidewalks blaring music and offering booze. It’s a nice distraction because the grade is steep, and few actually run up it. But there also were a lot of empty sections and others spots were anemic this time around. I privately wondered if it was Covid or the housing crisis responsible for the low spectator turnout. Older generations have been forced out by high rents now presumably paid by younger tech workers who were more apt to be in the streets rather than sidelines.
After the hill, you move to Fell Street, which was even quieter. But it did have a great half point setup. We also started running again and my body, especially my ankle, was not amused. From there it was run/walk, the latter usually at my urging, despite one of the best features of this footrace: the last 3 miles are all downhill.
There was no side entertainment – no bands, no rollerblader dancers, no taiko drummers. But the bison were out in Golden Gate Park, I saw a waterfall I’d never noticed before, and no one was yelling that we were going to hell for our hedonism. We also had a lot more breathing room, which was important because we eventually took off our face masks to breath better while running, then put them back on. Our costumes included birds pinned to our hats and my shoulders -- a pared down version of earlier plans to pretend we were refugees of The Birds in Bodega Bay. Alas, no one had the energy to go get the fake blood and eyeballs to pull it off.
The scenery was gorgeous, and the sun came out, so we took off our outer layers just as the clouds returned and winds picked up. We’d been warned in pre-race instructions to expect a windy finish. Yeah, it was.
Thanks for the laughs
The mile markers carried messages that were hilarious. For instance, Mile 2: Your boss just passed you running naked. Another at Miler 4 warned of Big Balls Ahead. And there were -- huge yellow balls that racers attempted to liberate from their steel-plate anchors.
The finish along The Great Highway in Ocean Beach was festive and quite the clusterf*ck. There were long lines in several directions all destined for two tents giving out race T-shirts. We’re talking thousands of people all converging at once, clogging the main thorough fare and bringing everything to a standstill. Just getting to the actual cue for shirt pickup took 50 minutes. But the shirts themselves were worth the wait. The material is a cross between technical and cotton and should hold its shape without holding in odors. I will definitely wear this one.
We didn’t get to get any of the post-race goodies because we spent all our time in the T-shirt line and had to catch the shuttle back. By then, the winds were brutal.
What is it with me and this event?
We ended up scrapping brunch plans because we were cold, tired and already sore. A lot of people on the shuttle felt similarly. My daughter in particular was under the weather and that night we learned why. We all took Covid tests and hers was positive. (I’m still negative, hallelujah.)
The first time I did this famous footrace, the Boston Marathon bombing had just happened and it put a damper on crowds. We also started in the very back and walked the entire time. This time a pandemic was the spoiler. I did like being in a faster corral to avoid all the penises and puking. But if I ever return, I’ll be sure to better prepare for the off-chance we run this thing.
