Lately when talking about running, many people have asked me if I do hashes. It usually is a reasonable question since the running discussion is shared over a beer. Hashers, properly called Hash House Harriers, or if you’re into the whole brevity thing, H3s or HHHs (not to be confused with the long-haired wrestler Triple H). They describe themselves as a “drinking club with a running problem.” Lovely. I hashed a couple of years ago and it was a lot of fun. I’ve been planning on participating in some more hashes but haven’t found a way to make time for them on the weekends between races and training. I really need to make more time for beer. Sorry beer, I promise I’ll spend more time with you. Beer can be so demanding sometimes can’t it?
Hashing started in 1938 by a group of British expatriates living in Malaysia seeking to cure their hangovers and clean out their bodies from weekend activities. I agree, there’s nothing that can clean out your insides better than a good sweat from running. Hashing resurfaced and started gaining popularity in the early 1980s as a protest to the rapid growth of the Atari game system in American homes. Not really. But hashing has grown exponentially since the early 1980s with approximately 2000 Hashes worldwide. Find your local Hash, called “kennels” by going to the World Hash House Harriers Directory and searching from over 1879 Hashes worldwide! You don’t have to deal with your running problem alone, there are others out there just like you.
H3s say that hashing is a state of mind. They aim to relive their childhood and fraternity days (sorority days too I assume…minus the underwear pillow fights), as well as release the tensions of everyday life. Even though there is a Hash House Harriers Bible with specific rules that H3s must follow, hashing is typically a laid-back affair, giving people another opportunity to act foolish on the weekends. Being serious on the weekend sucks…serious running is always cool. H3s give each other nicknames, originally because officers and enlisted people in the military wanted to be able to hash with each other on the weekends without it being considered fraternization. I wonder if I can pick my H3 nickname to be my old military call sign, Red Bull 6. I should have gotten sponsored.
Hashing starts with the “hare” running ahead of the “pack,” leaving directional markings along the route. The runners chasing the hare must determine the correct directions to take. Hashes are typically run over 3-6 miles, traversing some sort of trail run or sticky route. H3s feel best when they are dirty. There are typically stops along the route that involve drinking beer to replenish carbs used during the run. Doesn’t this counteract the “cleansing of the body from the weekend” concept of hashing? Whatever. Who wants to be clean anyways? At the end of the hash all of the runners gather in a group for some ritualistic activities that aim to facilitate more foolishness. Just what the doctor ordered.
As I do some more hashes I’ll let you know more about hashing. But until then you can go to The World Hash House Harriers to learn more. Do something about your running problem and start drinking!
I recently heard about sight-seeing running tours. I personally have been doing this for the past 25 years but didn’t know it had become so popular. I first did it on a family trip to Disney World when I was about 5 years old. One morning my family got to the park to be the first ones in line for the ride Space Mountain; however, we were not the only family to have this idea. As soon as the park opened, they lifted a rope and families went sprinting to be first in line for the ride. This task reminded my competitive father of his cross-country and track hurdling days as he slashed through and hurdled over families and children; and drug me along for the ride. I think I lost a shoe along the way, I probably cried at one point, and my feet weren’t moving eventually. Imagine being tied to a car bumper and not being able to run as fast as the car. That was me. My father’s tight grip was the rope and he was the car…and I was like the dog on the Chevy Chase movie “Vacation.” Thanks pops.
…to work at a small firm. I learned a lot about the whole real estate development process and feel that I am more knowledgeable than many of my peers. The risk was that a slow down in the market affects the smaller firm more than a larger, diversified firm. Honestly though, in this market and economy, I don’t know if it really matters where you work. I may have taken another offer at a larger firm and had been laid off recently since I was the newest hire. Who knows? I enjoy real estate development and continue to be somewhat involved in it, but it doesn’t excite me as much as running and working on this website does. I can see myself doing this for the rest of my life and enjoying it. I am excited to learn, build, facilitate, and create. And continue to do something that I love…running.
Just under a year ago I separated from the Army after serving four years and eight months. The extra eight months I served above my commitment was because I was deployed at the time. So at this point I had gone from High School, straight to college, then into the Army which had been telling me where to live, what job to have, and what I was going to get paid. After separating I finally had the whole world open to me! Well, the world was more like my oyster…really tough to crack open.
We have recently added an 
I have heard the AJC Peachtree Road Race is North America’s largest 
The other night a friend of mine was hungry after a late night at work where she hadn’t eaten dinner so she ordered a plate of french fries. The time of the order was actually at 1 in the morning. My first reaction was, “that sounds great! I wonder if they have any honey mustard here?” But then I thought, “wait, a meal of just fries? Aren’t fries supposed to be a side?….of course they have honey mustard, it’s a restaurant.” Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for breaking the social norms when it comes to eating; I used to put sprite or orange juice on my rice checks cereal when I a kid, but a fried side as a meal? That was a bit too much for me to swallow…literally. Ok, so it wasn’t that hard to swallow. I had some of them without being offered any at all. No honey mustard though.
On my long run this weekend I ran up behind another runner, in a less than desirable part of town, which made it obvious that we were both on a very long run. As I approached the other runner I could see her waist band full of water bottles and thought to myself, “How far she is going?!” I was personally on a 14 mile run in which the only stop I had planned to make was to release some