So yet again I managed to let Bay to Breakers slip by. This year there were 60,000 nudists, salmon, stromtroopers, spidermen, and other assorted wack-job drunks. So why wasn't I there? Two words: costume envy. I don't know if I can come up with a good enough idea to merit the race. Two years ago a group ran as a Tiki Hut. That's right, a hut. With a roof and walls and tiki gods. I can't top that.
I'm even out-drank at this event. One guy ran with a keg of beer in a shopping cart, with a hose running to his mouth. My head hangs in shame and awe.
Anyway, in spite of my shortcomings, I think 2008 might be my year. A friend of mine had an idea - get a radio flyer wagon and paint it gold. Find a hunky guy and body-paint him gold. Wear a toga and ride the race as Venus, the Goddess of Love. I'd use my husband but (1) I don't think he'd make it past the second mile and (2) he's usually my designated driver. No way would he tow my sorry ass sober.
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