Participants pursue their crazed sport in every corner of the planet, including Antarctica.
On a drizzly Sunday afternoon last month in the hills off Highway 17, I found myself covered in mud, thoroughly wet, busily following little blobs of flour back to my car. The prospect of tepid beer lifted our spirits and warmed our hearts, encouraging us to pick up the pace. Around the next muddy corner was the blue beer truck. In the middle of a run, miles from the cars, all the sweaty erstwhile health-conscious runners popped tops of slightly chilled beers. That's what you do in a drinking club with a running problem.