The day started out well. All twenty-six of us were on time at our scheduled meeting place on Market Street. The sun was shining, and the keg of Bud Light in a grocery cart was cold. We tapped the keg and began drinking at exactly 7:27 AM. By 8 AM, race starting time, we trudged along, crowded in with 50,000 others in the starting corrals.

Our first goal was to make it to the starting line before any Kenyans got to the finish. That was dumb...the Kenyans leading the race ran the 7.5-mile hilly course in 35 minutes. We didn’t cross the starting line until 25 minutes after they were done. With beer in the belly, the second goal was to find porta-potties at the one-mile mark. We thought we wouldn’t need one until then, but at a half mile, everyone sprinted for the bushes. Unfortunately, many got separated.

At mile 1, we realized that Kathy and Carrie were officially already LOST! Someone said, "They'll be back. Let's keep walking. Adam, aren't you worried you’ve lost your wife? What do you think we should do?"  Adam replied, "What can we do? We can't stop. Then they'll never find us."

At mile 3, there was a short detour to Burger King for ten orders of tater tots; they are great with beer. We regrouped just short of the famous Hayes Street Hill, fortified and ready to make our move. By the time we got to the top of the hill, some dragging and some pushing the beer

cart, we were exhausted. Surprisingly, a group of all-women, also with a beer cart, passed us. It was devastating.

Mile 4 was the grand reuniting with Kathy and Carrie. Somehow, in all the confusion, they managed to find us. We had planned a transition point at mile four and a half to replace the empty keg with a full one. It was a mess. It took forever to switch the kegs, and once it happened, the race had long passed. There were no others around.

One of our group yelled that we had to catch the keg-women, grabbed the cart, and took off out of control, down Fell St.; we all followed and had great support from the spectators along the course, who gave high fives and shouts of encouragement as we passed in front of their yard parties. We zigzagged through traffic and into Golden Gate Park. We were encouraged that we caught up to some slow walkers, some even using walkers.

But alas, we slowed. The rest of the race was very blurry for most. We finished the second keg with a mile left. We lost many of our 26 starters as they darted back and forth to the shrubbery.

At the Windmill, marking the end of the park, a few of us decided to finish with a sprint. Everyone eventually crossed the finish line just as the workers were tearing down the signs at 12:54pm. It felt good to finish the race. We were Dead Last in Bay to Breakers.