Today’s run: 4 untimed miles. I did the hash alone, which meant that I walked some of it. Considering a nasty hangover, I am glad I made it out.

So excited was I from Saturday’s hash that I went to the “Stumble Recovery Hash” today in Central Park. Well, sort of. I had the kind of subway trouble that can only happen when you combine MTA rerouting madness with severe hangover confusion. It took three trains and both a Brooklyn AND Harlem detour, but I did eventually arrive – an hour late!

So I did the hash alone. Actually, it was kind of nice because I got to discover the trail myself instead of just following the faster runners.

I really want to tell the hare who created the trail well done! (I’m sure I eventually will.) I also wanted to smack him a few times – there were some tricky pieces of the trail to find.

The route was the best tour of Central Park I’ve ever been on. Besides hitting all the major spots – Strawberry Fields, the Boathouse, the Carousel, Alice in Wonderland, that weird churchy tunnel that I can never remember the name of – it also had a few offroad adventures and turns down tiny little footpaths that I probably never would have found otherwise.

The trail ended for me on Madison Avenue, east of the park. Regrettably, I lost it at that point, probably just blocks from the end. I was pooped and knew that people probably had gone home anyway. So I bought a hotdog and called it a night.

Today’s runs: 6:43 miles, 1:08:32 in the a.m., then 3.2 miles at the Red Dress Run. YT: 662.34. WT: 27.69. Five days in a row is too many for me. I was just plain tired on my a.m. run. But I downed a beer before the Red Dress Run and was full of vim.

Today I ran through Chinatown, Little Italy and the West Village in a red dress. Actually, I was in a pack of about 80 people in red dresses. Men. Women. All in red dresses.

Why?

That’s what a million smiling people asked as they snapped pictures and high fived and just plain laughed at us. And especially at the amazing bald guy in a tutu who smoked a cigar the entire run. (I love him.)

“Is this for breast cancer?” people asked.

“No, it’s for beer,” red-dress people answered. “We’re anti-sobriety!”

You can read more about the distinctive tradition of hashery at the NYC hashers web site. This was my first hash, but there will be more. In case you’re thinking that this is some kind of kooky New York thing, not so. The original Red Dress Run, which attracts as many as 4500, is in San Diego, and many of those runners are Marines from Camp Pendleton. Marines love wearing red dresses. Who knew? (BTW, I got most of these details in drunken exchange last night after the run, so if any of them are wrong, I hope someday someone corrects me.)

Our route in NY was almost entirely through areas densely populated with tourists, who loved it. In Little Italy, the San Gennaro Festival (I think?) was in full swing, so the streets were packed with pop up restaurants and we went single file through the streets. We must’ve been a column of red dresses two blocks long.

Quick summary of a hash: The leader, the “hare” creates a trail of chalk marks showing the hashers where to run. It’s full of blind alleys, as a way to slow down the people at the front of the pack and give everyone else a rest. Sometimes the trail gets lost and scouts need to be sent in all directions, looking for a mark. When it’s found, everyone shouts “on on” (I think that’s what it was) and takes off.

Ultimately, the hash marks lead to a bar, where everyone drinks beer, hydration be damned, and sings hashing songs.

SO MUCH FUN. Urban exploration, made-up adventure, runner’s high, and drinking: A potent combination. It’s silliness taken very seriously, and I love that. I have found my people, if they’ll have me. Apparently I have a lot of rules I need to learn.

Anyone else out there done a hash? Did you love it as much as I did?