The day before our flight to San Jose I spilled boiling water on my left foot. That left a nasty blister the size of a silver dollar which of course popped the minute I put socks on. Never hurt again, not even a little bit. We had another reduced crowd this year.
As is the custom in recent decades, a handful of runners chose to wear nothing but their race bibs and a smile, with their junk, boobs, and rear ends in full public display. This SF Weekly reporter encountered fewer than two dozen naked runners this year, and the practice seems less in vogue than in previous decades when nudist colonies were still popular. Still, naked die-hards remain in the mix. Many understandably declined to give their names or consent to being photographed with their cash and prizes flopping around. But I spoke with about a dozen to find out why they run naked as jaybirds. Fos did not wait until she was middle-aged, but that did seem to be the most common demographic for those who did. Some race traditions lack any consensus explanation for their origin, like tossing tortillas at the Start Line or dressing up like Elvis.
Lots of fun. Lots of costumes. Enjoy my social documentary photos of various events! These photos do NOT imply the person's sexual orientation in any way. Everyone was asked and they consented to be photographed and posted.
The run starts at the Embarcadero on SF Bay. Racers run a distance of 12k over the hills of the city to Ocean Beach and the Pacific Ocean. This is a vintage SF event. There are elite world-class runners and serious runners that make up most of the participants. But it's the participants from the "E Group" the last to leave the starting blocks and the fun-loving spectators who give the race its flare and notoriety.