How'd you do? Enter your name or runner number to see your results instantly!
|
 |
Too much chic, too little freak
By Mark Fainaru-Wada, Anastasia Hendrix and Christopher Argyris
OF THE EXAMINER STAFF
If last year provided the first glimpse that the nine-decade-old Bay to Breakers was beginning to temper itself, the trend continued with the 89th running of the footrace.
The biggest party on two feet saw onlookers waiting, waiting, and still waiting some more for the truly creative minds to come tumbling through the streets of San Francisco.
Instead, it was largely a tepid affair compared to many Breakers races, prompting one onlooker to proclaim, "This is disappointing. Maybe the freaks don't come out for another hour."
In fact, there was very little of a freakish nature: a spate of nude runners (naturally), those plucky salmon swimming upstream, ballerinas aplenty (of both sexes, predictably), dot-com tributes everywhere, the tried and true tiki bar, kegs on wheels, nuns, nuns and more nuns — many inspired by the "Saturday Night Live" character Mary Katherine Gallagher.
Dozens of runners — male and female — opted to run au naturel. One was 69-year-old Kitty LuQuer of San Diego, a first-time participant. She walked hand-in-hand with her boyfriend, Ken Jones, 67, who also ran sans clothing but donned a straw cowboy hat.
"It feels wonderful, exhilarating and exciting," said LuQuer, wearing only two gold chains, red socks and her running shoes. "Now that I've done it, I can't wait to do it again."
No shirt, no shorts? No problem at the M&M Tavern.
Not far from the starting line, the popular hangout at Fifth and Howard was bustling through the morning hours, with several hundred patrons — including a fiftyish couple in their birthday suits and a school of costumed fish from the San Francisco Cacophany Society making the rounds by the bar.
"Simply brilliant!" gushed bartender Judy, an Ireland native working her first Breakers shift. "Leave it to crazy San Francisco to come up with something like this."
"I'll pay for water!" said one fish, heaving.
"Salt water, please," said another.
"It's the biggest bar in the world outside," said a fish called Joe. "Everyone wants to keep the beer flowing — it's like, 'Hey, you're a fish. Have a beer!' It's better than Prozac."
Just as he has for the last seven years, Kippling Smith dragged two tattered couches, an old army cot and a worn wooden coffee table to the curb on Hayes Street between Steiner and Pierce to watch the crowd go by.
"This is really the best place to see everybody, because they're going slower to get over the hill you can get a good look," said Smith, 30.
He and several of his friends, many of whom dressed in pajamas and call themselves the "Lopez Family Circus," downed doughnuts and mimosas while watching the action.
"We all like to look for naked people," Smith said with a grin. "We can't run the race, but we have enough energy to get the furniture out here and sit on our asses."
Spectator Phil Partain of Sacramento soaked up the scene from the sidelines with his parents Joan and Chuck Partain, who recently moved to The City. It was the first Breakers race for all.
"This is absolutely awesome," Phil Partain said, seconds before yelling to a nude passer-by "Hey, you forgot your shorts."
The man, feigning surprise, responded that "somebody back there must have taken them."
"I had no idea what to expect, but this is just great," said Partain, 36. "The best part is watching my mom's reaction to all these naked men."
"Don't put that in there," said Joan Partain, gasping in mock horror as a reporter scribbled some notes.
There were many piercings on display. The award for "most memorable" surely went to the gentleman whose penis was pierced with a silver rod and bell that rang as he walked.
A few of the costumes we found most creative/thoughtful/oddly-interesting included:
A man handcuffed to a metal bedpost and toting the thing on his back.
A man dressed as Fidel Castro, a woman dressed as Janet Reno, with a teddy bear representing little Elian Gonzalez in between them.
The mammoth baseball bat, with the words "Bay to Breakers" and "Bonds to the Bay."
A group calling themselves, "In Sink," a copycat boy band, with one of its members dressed as a kitchen sink.
The gang that recreated the shower scene from "Psycho."
A couple of people celebrating birthdays dressed as cakes.
It wouldn't be the Breakers without an appearance from the folks representing God. And so a miniscene emerged at the site of the costume contest, near mile-marker 4.
First, in a perfect juxtaposition, as Ruben Israel and Diane Courson walked past the judging stand preaching the word of the Lord, up on the podium were the Hash House Harriers, along with a group of painted ladies — naked but for the watercolors.
Israel and Courson made their way behind the judging stand, with Israel toting a huge sign that read "Know the God of the Bible" on the front and "God Hates Sin" on the back. Soon, he began using his bullhorn — putting his hollerings in direct conflict with the hollerings of Roberta Gonzales, the emcee of the event.
Eventually, contest officials placed some of their own signage in the way of Israel. Finally, the two groups came to some sort of an understanding, with Israel continuing his schtick but trying not to speak over Gonzales.
"We have no problem with his message, the only issue is the megaphone," said Beth Harbin, a contest official. "This is a public place. He certainly has a right to say what he wants to say."
At least half a dozen carts and wagons with kegs made their way down Howard Street, with the ubiquitous sea of red plastic cups raised skyward alerting revelers to frequent toasts and social drinks en masse.
A particularly dedicated young man had a 20-pack strapped to his shoulder. Another duct-taped a sixer to his thigh. Their thirst quenched, runners had several mobile parties to chose from, including a smoking barbeque that served up burgers and sausages.
The first oversized load to cross the start? A mock-up neighborhood facade from the "San Francisco Hash Home Harriers," predictable aroma of burning marijuana wafting from the chimneys included.
But once again the roving tiki bar crew, complete with a full bar and tenders to boot, upstaged all the various floats.
There were a few nods to the demon "Love Bug" computer virus, with Peter Spellman providing the most elaborate look. He shaped a lady bug's body out of foam rubber, duct tape and bailing wire, and then used a cardboard box with a computer facade for his head.
This was the 29-year-old Spellman's 16th Breakers appearance, with previous costumes representing the world, a wedge of cheese and Tinky Winky — the latter of which earned him a fourth-place finish in last year's costume contest.
"All my friends were saying I should be Elian," Spellman said. "I said, 'Right, I'll be killed.' Then this (virus) came out, and I thought, 'I'd rather be a computer virus than killed.' "
Constance Taylor, a 42-year-old performance artist, wore fishnet stockings and a French maid costume as she stood behind her microphone. Standing on the sidewalk just before the crest of Hayes Street hill, she chanted encouragements to the crowd between her jazzy solos.
"I love this, it's just such a joyful event and everyone is so happy," said Taylor, who has performed as a dancer in the last five races. Last year she was a butterfly.
Asked why she chose the lacy frock and apron this year, she explained it "was just something I had."
Kim Lazris wasn't exactly in costume, but her promotional efforts shouldn't be ignored. Lazris and a few of her colleagues from a Web site called Asimba.com ran the race with laptop computers around their waists and Web cams on their heads.
It was all in the name of promoting the Redwood City company that runs a Web site for health and fitness types. Lazris and others from the company stopped people along the route and told them they could take their picture and then e-mail it to them.
"It was bumpy," Lazris said of hauling the laptop. "I ran a little, walked a little."
As Rachel Wors came toward Steiner Street he pivoted and started running backward without missing a beat.
When asked why he was approaching Hayes Street hill that way he said, "so I don't have to face it."
After about a century in waiting, resting peacefully 6 feet under, John Muir got the wakeup call and finally made it to the Breakers — and he still missed the party by about 45 minutes.
Hauling a wagon with a sapling evergreen to boot, the weary traveler trudged across the start line as the clock struck 9 a.m — about the same time the street sweepers moved in to clear out the tons of tortillas, bottled waters, newspapers and other debris lining the start chute.
Dean Preston had one of the best viewing spots of all — perched on the stone balcony of his Victorian home overlooking Alamo Square.
"What a way to wake up in the morning," he said, noshing a bagel with cream cheese and lox. Before moving to the house this year, the civil rights lawyer said he usually slept through the race — but no more.
"There are not as many Knicks fans as I'd hoped for," joked the basketball fan, pointing out that New York played Miami later in the day in Game 7 of the NBA's Eastern Conference semifinals.
Millie Angeles, 76, raced in her wheelchair, pushed alternately by her daughter and granddaughter. Eight friends helped in all, almost all with their hair twisted and tied into a series of knots with colorful bands. But Millie stole the show with the glitter and shiny star stickers around her eyes.
|
Enter the forum
