Bay to Breakers
Naked man count: 1. I haven’t even left the car yet.
Photo Source: Josie Collier
Bay to Breakers is the funky but joyful 12K run across the width of San Francisco. I, a first-time runner, can only describe the experience by comparing it to a fever dream. In this dream-like trance of seven and a half miles, I saw too many 65+ wrinkled behinds, belligerently drunk boxes of crayons and whizzing waldos to confirm that I was still on earth.
Costumes are the unspoken rule of the race. One would think that an inflatable unicorn and sumo wrestler costume would be too much, too outrageous or too difficult to dress in for a mid-May event or let alone tackle seven miles in. However, these were tame costumes in comparison to a fluorescent Borat mankini.
Naked men count: 3. For my last month living in the Bay Area, there felt like no better way to find closure than partake in the city’s favorite tradition. 2024 was the 113th year of the race. It began in the Embarcadero on the east side of the city. But before the race even began, 4 tortillas pelted my cowgirl hat while hundreds of others were thrown into the sky.
Why? Unconfirmed, but seemingly just another oddly-covert tradition of this run.
Alas, Corral D, otherwise known as D for Damned Group according to the ultra-conservative Christian groups protesting the race, was let loose to wreak havoc on Howard Street. Naked men count: 7.
Flying down Howard and turning on Ninth to Hayes was a journey. Before approaching Hayes Hill, a hefty but gradual feat, there were options to fuel up with a beer or shot in a bar while others dodged a group of 30+ crabs and lobsters to get the daunting mountain ahead over with–because what is an event in San Francisco without having to endure an urban hike.
Atop the hill is a street lined with DJs, dance parties and another naked man lying face up on sizzling ass-phalt. Naked men count: 9. Taking refuge in some shade while two farmers corralled the inflatable cow of our group for a port-a-potty break, a 12-person blue man group covered in cobalt from head-to-toe high-fived tutu-sparkled runners.
Then, a cloud of bubbles slowly dissipated to reveal Golden Gate Park’s entrance.
While carving through greenery and trying not to slip on bananas trotting by the Conservatory of Flowers, I realized I hadn’t stopped smiling this whole run. Naked men count: 13.
The smile wavered slightly here, and in its replacement was a sour scowl because this amount of nudity was objectively too much. But I lightened up again after trailing behind a runner with a shirt reading “This is my 47th Bay to Breakers.”
For someone who used to despise running, competitions and races with every ounce of their being, this run was perfect. Bay to Breakers is an event that is both accessible and weird enough that it invites every age (preferably not children given some obscenities), pace and style to make running enjoyable.
A wave of cool air washed over the stampede and a glimpse of the Pacific’s horizon appeared with less than a mile to go. UC Berkeley’s band dramatically performed with drums and brassy tones for the runner’s final push to the finish on Ocean Beach.
Still waiting to fully awake from this hypnotic trance, I crossed the finish line holding hands with a farmer to my right and a sweaty cow to my left. The MC spoke to the crowd: “If you didn’t run this race in an inflatable cow suit, did you even run it?”
Apparently I didn’t run this race as well as I could have. Still, Bay to Breakers is a must-do and see for everyone even if they don’t tackle it in an absurd costume.
Photo Credit: Josie Collier