Bay to Breakers

Every year, San Francisco hosts the famous 12k foot race called the Bay to Breakers. It is a fabulous testament to the city of San Francisco. I don't feel like writing out the entire history so here's a paste directly from the run's official site.

Bay to Breakers History

At 5:13am on April 18, 1906, a devastating earthquake – that would become one of history’s most notorious natural disasters - rocked San Francisco. The subsequent fire and destruction were unimaginable, and many feared the City would be gone forever. But San Franciscans, displaying their typical fortitude and innovation, immediately began rebuilding the city and producing events to lift their morale. One of those events, the Cross City Race – known better today as ING Bay to
Breakers – was first run in 1912 as a precursor to the world-class athletic events planned for the 1915 Panama Pacific International Exposition. There were less than 200 participants that first year and Robert Jackson Vlught was the first person to ever cross the finish line, with a finishing time of 44:10.

Since then, Bay to Breakers has prevailed as a testament to San
Francisco’s uniqueness and audacity. Each year, the race is a glorious
celebration of the human spirit – a giant wave of athleticism, fun, frivolity, and determination flowing across the City from the bay to the ocean. It is one of the largest footraces in the world with 65,000 + participants and 100,000 + spectators annually. As the race grew in size it even set a Guinness Book record, with 110,000 participants, in 1986. The course is challenging and beautiful, and consistently attracts top athletes in the sport. But it isn't just a race for the serious runner.

In the true spirit of San Francisco the race is a celebration for everyone. Thousands of costumed participants join with families, weekend runners and people just out for a stroll. As they make
their way through the heart of San Francisco they are cheered by thousands of spectators and live music along the course. They also have to dodge the "spawning salmon" who each year make their way from the Finish line, through the masses, to the Start.

Throughout its long history Bay to Breakers has been a showplace for the City's irrepressible color and its affection for eclectic traditions. Although runners come from across the country and all points of the globe, the race is still quintessential San Francisco and a true reflection of life between the breakers and the Bay.

Historical highlights:

1928: The Cross City Race moves to the last Sunday in January (and has been held on a Sunday ever since).
1940: The first female runner, Bobbie Burke, participates disguised as a man.
1940: The first costumed runner (other than
Bobbie Burke) takes to the course as Captain Kidd, and finishes last.
1949: The first year the race was held in May.
1963: The smallest Cross City on record, with only 25 registered runners.
1964: In it's 53rd year the race is dubbed Bay to Breakers.
1971: With a finishing time of 50:45, Frances Conley becomes the first official winner in the Women's Division.
1974: At the age of 10 Maryetta Boitano became the youngest winner in the history of the race. She also set the fastest women's finishing time at 43:22. She went on to win the Women's Division in 1975 and 1976.
1986: With 78,769 registered runners and 110,000 total participants, the Guinness Book of World Records awards Bay to Breakers the title of World's Largest Footrace.
1990: The Reebok Aggies set the men's centipede record with a time of 37:39.
1990: The Reebok Aggies set the women's centipede record with a time of 47:36.
1993: From 1993 to 1996, Bay to Breakers was the first official 12K National Championship recognized by the USA Track & Field Association.
1993: Ismael Kirui of Kenya set the standing men's record with a finishing time of 33:42.
1994: American runners were able to use their times to meet the standard required for entry into the Olympic trials.
1998: In 13th place, Jane Omoro secured the highest finishing position by a woman.
2005: With a finishing time of 38:22, Asmae Leghzaoui (Morocco) set a new women's world record and bested our course record,
set by Delillah Asiago (Kenya) in 1995, by one second.

This year was the first time I'd ever seen the race up close. Normally, I'm heading to work, sometimes having to cross the massive flow and crush of observers and runners at the designated crossing streets. This year, however, Marty had decided to run the race, his second since starting to run, months and months ago. I was not feeling well and had called in sick to work but I still had to give him a ride down to the Start line. And then ride up to the Finish line to pick him up so I could take him back home for a shower and so he could grab the truck to go down to his work. Race and work. What a day!

By the time we got down to the Start line, I was starting to feel the energy rising, and there was a Burning Man quality to it that started me grinning. Soon I was bouncing along side Marty, who happened to be dressed in a Guernsey cow suit in which he was going to run the race, drinking in the sights and the Energy of it all.

I love this city. I'm not biased or anything (*cough*) but this is the best city in the United States. That thousands upon thousands of people can swarm the city to do a foot race dressed in all sorts of hysterical outfits and hardly anyone blinks is so precious to me.

There were a couple of people holding large signs near the Start line saying "Jesus saves from hell" and "Homosexuals are sinners" or some such stupid-ass crap. I laughed at first until Marty stated that he thought they were being serious. Then I scowled. But the crush of runners, dressed in everything from KISS outfits to large cars (and Guernsey cows), just swirled around these few, pretty much ignoring them. No fights broke out. I may have laughed a little derisively as I passed by. Under my breath... or maybe a little bit out loud.

That shit seriously pisses me off. And at the same time, there's a part of me that says, "Everyone is free to say what they feel." Just like thousands of people can dress up (or not, since there are naked runners) and do this amazing thing in the middle of one of the best known cities of America. Which is, I guess, why San Francisco gets a sort of "Black Sheep" reputation. "Oh you're a Californian!?" people exclaim, probably conjuring thoughts of beach bunnies and sun and warmth. (This is Southern California, people). Then you say, "Yeah, San Francisco." For the most part, people are pretty excited about the city. "Oh! San Francisco! How cool!" although I note the topic changes pretty quickly. Evil San Franciscanites! How dare they vote No, hands down, on The Terminator at election time! How dare they want to protect medical marijuana and medical "Pot Clubs"! How dare they try to impose a 1% tax on each dollar made over a million to go to mental health programs! How dare they vote for anything socialist, green, democratic! Usually San Francisco is the one county in California to vote NO on all the anti-socialist, etc propositions/elections and uniformly YES on the pro props. So many cool and crazy things begin their lives here and spread out across the country, as well as continue to be fed within the City. The Hippy movement, Burning Man, big chunk of the Gay rights movement.

Plus a commitment to Green. And I don't mean the Green Party but that's a big deal here. I mean environmentally. Since the United States did not ratify the Kyoto Accords (is this a surprise? Hey, blame Australia too), it cannot be held to the boundaries set by the Protocol. Meaning, as usual, the US can do whatever the hell it wants with its highest production of greenhouse crap (in the world). So California itself became one of the first states to sign onto the Kyoto Protocol and San Francisco signed on as a city committed to the philosophy within.

Once dropping Marty off and walking with him up to the Start line, winding through the "shunt" that led into the main starting street, the street literally covered with tortillas (I don't know why), the occasional tortilla sailing through the air above the crowd like Frisbees, taking photos along the way, I kissed my cow good luck and he took off, starting his run across the City in the midst of thousands. You can read about his experience on his blog.

I took a few more photos and then headed out to my scooter to begin my trek across the City to the Finish line at the ocean. And I say trek because it turned out to be somewhat of a journey. Since the race runs a main "track", following some major city streets from East to West, bayside to oceanside, it effectively cuts the city in half, upper and lower. There are designated intersections where crossing is possible, police stopping participants to allow bits of traffic through but for the most part, those not interested in the race can get a little frustrated with the flow of traffic. Since I had parked south of the race, one street below Market and the Embarcadero, I pretty much had to stay on that side of the city. Of course, I did not have the map Marty had given me, having left it at home, so I asked one of the race staff where the finish line was. She showed me on her map, saying she wasn't sure really where it was or how to get there. Fortunately for me, having lived here for almost 10 years, I knew pretty much where it was and how to get there. But, on the OTHER side of the race. So, the normal route I would have taken was out. I sat on my scooter for a while, imaging the City in my mind, testing out different streets. Having something solidified, I took off. Heh.

I'm coming around a curve and suddenly am about to get on the freeway, going towards the East Bay. Not good. Especially since it's not where I want to go, and ESPECIALLY not on a little 150cc scooter! I pulled over and waited for cars to continue up the ramp and made my way down the ramp on the shoulder and off I went in a different direction. After some roundabouts, I finally hit a street headed towards the ocean, parallel to the race, although I couldn't see it.

But somewhere, I could almost Feel a special Guernsey cow out there, pacing along with me. The streets were pretty much deserted and a bit dirty (which is not at all usual for SF, it's usually a fairly clean city), bits of debris and papers. There was an almost abandoned quality to the city where I was. So my imagination, very rich and vivid, starts ticking away, and also being a serious Sci-Fi buff, I start feeling like I'm a lone survivor from some zombie catastrophe, trying to make way to the ocean where other survivors are hopefully gathering. Hehe.

After a few more turnabouts, I finally managed to make my way to the Finish line, trusty camera in hand. I had fun taking photos of the folks crossing the Finish, a band of mariachis, a fat, naked man in tennis shoes, a gaggle of Swedish milkmaids, a legion of Roman warriors, a bunch of grapes, a man who's been running the race for 36 years. I saw an ambulance make its slow way through crowd and learned later that someone had died. I didn't see my cow. But finally received a phone call from him (ahh, cell phones make these things so much easier!) and he had crossed the finish line on the opposite side from where I was.

Sweaty cow!!

He had run the entire race in the suit, although he had wondered if he might have to take it off due to overheating but apparently did fine.

He also reported a fairly cowless race, having only seen very few fellow bovines, one travelling with his milkmaid.

May the Gods look down upon San Francisco and Bless its amazing whackiness. May San Francisco continue to be the Bastion of the Strange, of the Weird, of the Socially Courageous! May San Francisco continue to offer to its citizens and the world, the opportunity to flout the repressive, the oppressive structures of the Societal Norm!

Keep running, San Francisco!!

And fly your Freak Flag high!