The "official" first day of Portland's 2011 running season was drizzly, brisk and groggy thanks to daylight saving time, but 31,000 Irish-for-a-day runners still counted themselves lucky Sunday at the 33rd annual Shamrock Run.
Like watching the crocuses bloom and removing the emergency tire chains from your trunk, the race has become a springtime staple for road runners. It's even garnered the city's approval as opening day of running season.
"Even through the weather is awful, people come out in droves," said 34-year-old Nikki Mueller of Beaverton. Mueller attends the race every year.
But Portland is a beer city, and the Shamrock Run didn't truly become a sensation until organizers threw in a cup of the foamy stuff alongside the usual sports drinks and fruit at the finish line. Since then, attendance has skyrocketed, with a noticeable uptick in the percentage of runners in their mid-20s.
"I don't know what's more amazing, that we've doubled in the last three years or that we've tripled in the last four," said Steve Hamilton, race director.
Race organizers know that many runners are there for the party, and Hamilton said they embrace the image. This year, they added an entertainment stage where musicians played bagpipes and sawed on fiddles as racers crossed the finish line.
Participants ran the gamut from serious athletes to folks like Glenn Frazier, who was still in high gear from Saturday's Urban Iditarod. Frazier, 34, of Portland donned a funky brimmed hat and yellow knee-high socks bearing the word "BEER." He's a Hasher, a member of the Hash House Harriers, a group he described as "a drinking club with a running problem."
Consequently, the Shamrock Run was perfect for Frazier, save one suggestion for improvement next year: "It'd be better if there was a beer check along the way," he said.
McNally said she enjoys the Shamrock's carefree attitude: It's at once a training session and a social event. Costumes are a big deal. On Sunday, the sea of green included countless leprechauns, sequined tutus, shamrock-shaped sunglasses and at least one banana. McNally sported striped green knee-high socks and a pair of wobbly shamrock antennae.
The Shamrock Run is a far cry from its roots, when fewer than 1,000 people showed up to the first race at a now-defunct Irish pub in Beaverton. But after 33 years of steady growth, Hamilton said it might have reached capacity. This year, before the final racers had taken off, the line for chowder was dozens deep, and the beer tent was packed with sweaty people sipping Widmer stout, hefeweizen and pale ale.
"It's a good goal of ours," said Amy Caldwell, 37, of Salem as she and her husband, Jason, 40, nursed plastic cups of pale ale. "If I don't have a goal, I stop running. So this is the goal."
After they finished their beer and chowder, the Caldwells planned to meet up with friends at Kell's Irish Restaurant & Pub to continue the merriment.
0 Comments
Posts
