I seem to mention drinking a fair bit in my blog about running. Usually drinking after running seems pretty good, and drinking before running can make the running thing a bit more difficult. As I booked flights yesterday to go and see our friends the Trailmonsters later this summer I find myself thinking fondly about the brave and fool-hardy beast run we participated in the last night we spent in Maine in '07. The inaugural beast run had been the summer before to mark the 6th of June 2006 and consisted of as many laps of a marked trail in the woods, with a beer at the start of each lap, as each contestant felt they could manage. Our beast run was held in May (perhaps especially to accommodate the visiting Scots) but continued the spirit of the original beast run.
I felt a bit dubious, being a cautious person, about the sensibleness of drinking and running, but since Emma (aka Gnarls) who is much more sensible than I am was keen to improve on her number of laps from the previous year and was looking for support from a fellow Scot to achieve this, I let ambition over-rule sense and we went for the record. If I remember right the previous female record had been set at 5 laps. (Approx. 5 miles and obviously 5 beers.) Being nurses and keen to promote and model healthy choices we chose low (but not no) alcohol beer for between laps. Some of the men felt this was cheating and 2 in particular lost a bit of dignity ultimately as a result.
Having a beer and a run in the woods was much nicer than I thought it was going to be. I remember feeling very at home and comfortable in my surroundings, almost at one with my environs. I think Erik almost became one with his environs as he pitched headlong into some trap along the way, so it was by no means wholly without risk. Long story short Emma and I put in a good effort and pulled off a world's best of 6 laps before calling it a day and going to find the BBQ. Peter took it to another level so he and another chap with a ginger beard had to recover outside for some time beside the river with the frogs croaking and the bugs biting as they were not fit for indoors. Out of loyalty I stayed outside and kept them company as the chap with the beard expressed regret about his behaviour and raised some questions about his own status as a human being which needed sympathetic answering. I can't remember what Peter was on about.
Looking forwards to this summer though I think we should save the drinking for afterwards...