Beer Tasting Events Philadelphia PA

Even if the Bierathlon Zurich website wasn’t in German, I’m still not sure I’d understand what on earth is going on in this weekend’s race. When I do translate it, there’s something about the event being “nothing less than survival.”

What I can glean from this video involves costumes, racing, carrying crates of beer, chugging beer and more racing. Also, projective vomiting, though I’ll spare you a link to that video.

An Irish adventure racer’s blog reveals some more specifics of the challenge:

• Carrying a crate of beer for 8km
• Drinking 1.5 litres of beer and running 8km
• Keeping the beer in your stomach
• Burping on call to eliminate gas
• Stopping the face paint from running onto your clothes
• Making it to the party afterwards

I think this is in the running (no pun intended) for one of the most epic beer runner race of all time. Know of anything that tops this?

Thanks to Silicon Sky for the heads up about the Bierathlon.

You can’t really call yourself the Beer Runner if you don’t run the beer mile from time to time. But my last beer mile adventure was six years ago. I was way overdue.

For the uninitiated, an official beer mile race is four quarter-mile laps with four full-sized beers interspersed between each lap. Over time, it has become an underground running and beer-drinking phenomenon. Today there’s even a site devoted to chronicling beer mile performances all over the world at http://www.beermile.com .

My baptism by beer mile came courtesy of a Wisconsin chapter of the Hash House Harriers , the international group with the motto “a drinking group with a running problem.” Just out of college, I ran the beer mile in 7:30-ish, and was most proud of the fact that I didn’t vomit on the course.

Let me dispel any myths right now. The beer mile is not fun and games, even for a group as seasoned in the art of combining beer and running as the Hash House Harriers.

“People think this is a fun event,” said a runner who goes by the nom de hash Mangina. “It’s not. It’s f∗cking horrible.”

Well said, Mangina. Well said.

After six years, my brutal beer mile memories had finally faded enough to try another one with the same group that initiated me. We met on a recent weekend at a county park, warmed up with plenty of Schlitz and Miller High Life, and tried to block out from our minds what we were about to attempt.

And so it began. Pound a beer. Run a lap. And then a little slower. Pound a beer. Run a lap. And then it really started sloshing around in your stomach. Pound a beer… Run a lap. Almost there. Pound a beer. You’re not sure if you’re going to make it to the finish, but then finally, one. more. lap! I finished. My official time: 6:31.

It really hits you the hardest once you stop, and all the alcohol and adrenaline and lactic acid that was prod...