Sunny Race Day and a Bright Future for San Francisco's Bay to Breakers

Let’s hope the weather for Sunday’s centennial running of the Bay to Breakers was a metaphor for the race itself, with the dark clouds parting and letting the sun shine brightly just in time for the starting gun. Likewise, it seems the widely-reported problems of recent years are on their way to resolution, clearing the way for a sunny future as the race charges into its second century of city history.

Anyone who views even the first few seconds of Bay to Breakers will see that it is a unique event, with costumes pouring in on the heels of the world’s top runners. The elite men stream by at a pace somewhere around 4:30 per mile, and the first costume appears 30 seconds after them. From 90 seconds on, any freeze-frame would capture costumed runners dotted throughout the crowd. We’re still talking about the front of the pack here—serious runners who train hard and run fast—but even serious runners know that Bay to Breakers is an event that calls for silliness. You can watch some great video footage here.

At the Moscone Center, the Elvises (or Elvi, in the race vernacular) who normally jump in and run alongside the elites for a few strides, were this year notably absent. But they were around, hobnobbing and posing for photo ops along the course. I caught up with them on Hayes Street and chatted for a while. According to one Elvis, they declined to run alongside the elites this time because, “We wanted to give them some space. There’s been so much scrutiny on the race this year.” 

From the crest of the Hayes Street hill, a forbidding-looking black fence could be seen guiding racers around the corner onto Divisadero. The race organizers have put considerable effort into containing the party element, which normally heats up as the course serpentines into the Panhandle. The heavy black fencing appeared to span the entire Fell Street portion of the course, on both sides, in an effort to corral rogue racers. Vintage race photos, including shots from the race’s first running in 1912, decorated the fence, but few seemed to notice, and the fencing may have had an unintended consequence. “They had a lot more porta potties in the Panhandle, but I couldn’t get to them,” said a participant named Wiley, who sported a Heat Miser hairdo. “They want us to use the bathrooms, but they walled them off.” 

Another change this year was a staggered starting system, which released participants into the streets at 15-minute intervals. I had anticipated a little more breathing room as a result of this change, but the course seemed as densely-crowded as ever, even as it wound its way through Golden Gate Park and onto the Great Highway, where race finishers were treated to a sunlit, postcard-worthy vista of the  actual breakers. 

At the finish line, where I lingered a while enjoying the view, I kept being asked by weary finishers, “Where do we go for the finisher medals?” I kept saying “Oh, just follow the crowd around to the left,” when what I really meant was, “You don’t even want to know.” In reality, finishers were in for another full mile of walking, back into the park, to pick up their medals (which were new this year), and still another half mile to get to Footstock, which was relocated east of the Polo Field, instead of its usual location inside the Polo Field.  One woman was overheard saying to a volunteer, “This is just mean. Couldn’t this part have been closer to the finish?”

But the atmosphere at Footstock was mostly upbeat and celebratory. Pirates of the Caribbean brushed elbows with a troupe of Care Bears, and a regal-looking royal couple mingled with the crowd. The real couple under the royal garb was Eva and Ed Wong, seasoned Breakers veterans of 30 and 25 years, respectively. “This year was great,” said Eva. “Very high energy.”   

Race organizers have been attempting to rebrand Bay to Breakers a “serious race,” but it didn’t look as though most of the race’s participants were on board with the new image. Many participants flouted the new rules, bringing not only beverages, but also wheeled vehicles (usually as a costume prop, but parents with children in strollers were also seen), and joining in without official race bibs. 

It could be that it isn’t really up to the organizers to define what this race is. The traditions and the culture of the event are decided by the thousands who take part in it, and their vote seems clear: Bay to Breakers will remain the most offbeat, silly and joyous 12K race in the world.