Beer Run Report: We'll Run For Beer, Spring Edition

You know who is probably the most excited for my self-imposed 35 days of sobriety? No, not my roommate Nicole, who saw me when I stumbled out of bed at 9:30 last night to get a glass of water, and who asked at that point, "Are you okay?" to which I mumbled, "Mmm, just drunk." No, not me, who drank 19 beers last week while simultaneously talking about the need to get down to race weight. I think the person most excited for me to not be drunk for 5 weeks is I-Man, who spent the tail end of his Sunday afternoon hosing me off in my kitchen sink (in a not at all sexxxy way) while I cried about how my hands were bleeding, and then cried more because he was being nice to me despite my bleeding all over him. One month and one week without beer tears is perhaps the best gift I can give him.

But let me start at the beginning, because the day was actually a blast, and kicking things off with a story of me bloodied and crying in my kitchen sink isn't exactly painting the best picture.

I woke up on Sunday morning and bounded out of bed. Well, not quite "bounded," because I was pretty stiff from Saturday's quick 15 miler. But I creaked out of bed, looked out the window, spied sunshine, and was delighted. "It's here!" I could hardly wait for my warm-up loop of Prospect Park - I wanted the drinking to start immediately.

As the masses assembled in Prospect Park, making small talk with one another and sizing up the competition (it was clear, of course, that I was a force to be reckoned with on the drinking front, and after the last "We'll Run For Beer," word had spread like wildfire not to try to keep up with Baker on the running side, so we were the natural ones to beat), I distributed my super-secret awesome gift - "We'll Run For Beer" koozies!

I only ordered 100, and obviously these are in high demand, but if you are very nice to me, I might consider giving you one too.

I made a few opening remarks, pointed out the fact that we could talk more momentarily, as the first bar was only a few blocks away, and made a special welcome to my dad, who came down from Connecticut for the festivities. After a group shot, we were off.

And just like that, we were done running. For the time being, anyway. The first bar, Beer Table, was indeed just three blocks from the start. With my planning, I had officially endeared myself to everyone more interested in drinking than running. And that was pretty much everyone.

The people at Beer Table could not have been more welcoming and accommodating, and I am so glad that it was our first stop - it really set the tone for a beer-centric afternoon. We filled the entire venue (and deterred a few would-be brunchers, who were intimidated by our ranks. And by the fact that wicking tech fabrics never quite lose their smell, even if you've only run 3 blocks and haven't even started sweating). The staff went through their draft list, saying a few words about each beer, and making recommendations for those who were looking for something specific. They were careful to point out which beers had a low ABV and which came in at 10% (I gave a cheer for that one). My first beer was a Mikkeller Koppi, an IPA finished with Ethiopian coffee. I was expecting bold coffee flavors, which I didn't taste, but there was something particular about this beer. The hops were almost grassy and a little citrusy. At first I thought I'd be given the wrong pour, as this also had a hazy, orangey yellow hue and not a darker coffee tone as I'd expected (FYI - that's the last of the actual beer reviews I'm going to be able to give...). But a nice beer that I hope to drink more of as the season (finally) warms up.

After we bid adieu to the fine folks at Beer Table, we headed west to Gowanus, where our destination was a huge beer hall called Draft Barn. It reminded me of a bar I used to frequent when I was in Cape Town, called Forresters. If only they served biltong in Brooklyn... Anyway, again we were the only patrons (noon on a Sunday not being a big drinking time outside of football season, I suppose). Draft Barn had (from what I could see) 3 sets of 5 or 6 taps, and dozens of bottles - there were easily 50 beers to choose from. I went with a Dunkelweizen whose name escapes me. Any description of it escapes me as well, but I trust it was good, as I polished it off without trouble. Many people chose the Raspberry Hefeweisse on tap, and pretty soon the bar smelled like Chapstick. Perhaps it was the smell of edible things, or perhaps the effects of alcohol (but certainly not as a result of running, since we'd done approximately 1 mile of it), but people were starting to get hungry. Off to bar number 3 and the promised cheese fries.

Meghan doing some "cross training"

The third leg was a bit more challenging, as we had to head back uphill to Park Slope Ale House. Still, I think everyone was pleasantly surprised by the bar choice when we arrived. Of course, I had no doubt they would be; this is my local watering hole, and offered respite during many a playoff football game. Also, the cheese fries. Yessss. Perhaps most endearing to my non-Brooklyn friends, though, was that Park Slope Ale House was also hosting a child's birthday party downstairs. In a bar. The only thing that could have made it more awesome was if we too had been invited to have our faces painted.

I ordered an Ommegang and shared it with my dad, who was beside himself with glee over being joined at stop 3 by my friend (and his former colleague) Rob. While Big Mike talked shop with Rob, I sidled over to I-Man, Kelly, Brennan, and Katie, who had ordered chili cheese fries, which is why I am friends with them. With my help, we had no trouble finishing quickly (that's what he said).

Others, however, ordered food later, or didn't order food at all, and as a result, Park Slope Ale House was the first place we weren't all ready to move on at once. With 3 more venues to hit and nearly 3 hours under our belts thus far, we had to press on. We promised to regroup and bid adieu to those lost to cheese fries.

Leg 4 was the longest leg, and took us from Park Slope uphill to Prospect Park West, and around the north end of the Park into Prospect Heights. With our tummies full of chili cheese fries and beers, we started to struggle. We stumbled into stop 4: Washington Commons, and tried to compose ourselves. The patrons did not seem nearly as friendly as others had been. Also, there were a lot of dogs in the bar. Not, like, ugly people. I mean actual, furry, four legged animals. The whole atmosphere was confusing and I was overwhelmed. Or drunk. I took the drastic step of ordering a Bud Light, in an attempt to both rehydrate and keep drinking. I mulled over the route - should we skip stop 5 and go straight to the finish? We could even go all Rosie Ruiz and hop on the subway. Thankfully, Neal stepped in during my moment of weakness and talked some sense into me: we had committed to 6 stops, and we would run to each of them. It takes a true friend to convince you otherwise when you want to give up. Neal, you are a true beer running hero.

In a moment of surprise to all of us who managed to leave Park Slope Ale House, the cheese fry stragglers did indeed join us at Washington Commons! Without their fearless leader (duh, me) or a good grasp of Brooklyn geography, or much affinity for running (Cate, you're absolved from this last characteristic, but your map-reading abilities had me seriously concerned...), they found their way, sans cab, to stop 4. Cate, DeLoria, Train, Ryan, Meghan, KD, Uhl, and Rich - you, too, are beer running heroes.

But not a fashion hero...

We persevered. With the longest leg now behind us, and the fresh enthusiasm and athletic prowess of Eissa, who joined the fray at Washington Commons, we set out for stop 5. Which would have been easier had my own navigational skills not been inversely related to the number of beers I drank... But we stepped outside, I got my bearings, and we were off to our next venue: Plan B. DeLoria, all too familiar with Plan B in an entirely different context, was nervous, but we managed to get him and everyone else there in one piece.

Though the bartender who promised me I'd drink for free was nowhere to be found (convenient...), I was happy to order a Brooklyn Brown Ale. That Bud Light had been a moment of weakness, but I was back in action. And just in time, for Elyssa joined us at Plan B, fortifying our ranks for a strong finish. We drained our glasses in record time and, leaving behind a trail of "We'll Run For Beer" koozies (those things weren't free, you know!), we were off to the final stop: Bierkraft.

Back in Park Slope, I ushered everyone into the unassuming storefront that is Bierkraft, assuring them that "yes, this is the right place. No, this is not a random bodega." We made it! No one got in a fight, no one threw up, and no one got hurt. The second "We'll Run For Beer" seemed to be a success!

Confident that the beer runners could fend for themselves for a few minutes, I ran with I-Man back to my apartment to let him in to get his gear. With 5 beers and 9 miles under my belt for the day, and 2 blocks from my apartment, I tripped on an uneven slab of sidewalk and went down. I skidded to a stop a few feet from where I fell and lay still. "Are you okay?!" I-Man asked. My hands were bloody, my knee was scraped, but my face had been spared. So yes, I was okay. But also, I was drunk, and so I started crying.

I-Man brushed me off and walked me back to my apartment and hosed me off in the kitchen sink and squirted me with Neosporin and covered me Hello Kitty bandaids and then, confident that I would live through these injuries, sent me back to the bar. If that isn't ideal first aid, then I don't know what is.

I ran back to Bierkraft (yes, ran. Flesh wounds or not, I was in a hurry to get back to drinking) and found everyone contentedly drinking any number of the tons of drafts and bottles and noshing on incredible sandwiches (thanks, Brad, for sharing yours with me!). With a cold pint of some forgotten IPA held to my bloody palms, I looked around at the beer runners. 35 participants, 6 hours, 5 bars, 4.5 miles, 3 neighborhoods, and I was the only one bleeding. Not a bad Sunday afternoon.

Nothing a sandwich can't fix

Thanks so much to Beer Table, Draft Barn, Park Slope Ale House, Washington Commons, Plan B, and Bierkraft for your alcoholic expertise and hospitality. Thanks to CustomInk.com for making my koozies, which make me feel totally professional and badass and which I will now give out at every gift giving holiday for the next 35 years. And a very special thanks to all those who came out for the Spring Edition of "We'll Run For Beer:" Cate, Kelly, Katie, Brennan, KD, Meghan, Train, Ryan, Uhl, The Rossi, DeLoria, I-Man, Bradlius, Neal, Rob, Joe, Maria, Eissa, Elyssa, Sam, Steph, Baker, Abbe, Erica, Laura, Scott, Erin, Drew, Maura, Bryan, Michelle, Molly, and my Dad. You guys make me want to be a better beer runner.