Health & Beauty

The Beer Run

We asked our art director to run for his beer. He agreed. Here is his story

DENNIS HO
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It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. Actually, it could have been worse. Much worse. And it almost was.

Dreams were made, and hearts were shattered, on a brisk, cold Saturday night, as I sought to elevate my status in a place that should rightly be called God’s Watering Hole — the festive, gold-cobbled King Street, where beer and liquor are ever-flowing and hipsters are ever-present.

Little did he know — this fake persona I would employ for the night, Pablo Sandcastle — that his mission, should he choose to accept it (which he did very willingly), would be to take running to the next level. Sandcastle would set out on the famous King Street Beer Run, trying to accomplish what had never been done before in the history of mankind: drinking at every establishment that God’s Watering Hole had to offer. While running.

That meant that Sandcastle would see valuable quality time at Bold City Brewery, Intuition Ale Works, Kickbacks Gastropub, The Loft, The Rogue, Dahlia’s Pour House,
The Garage, Park Place, Singing Cow and Lola’s, not giving a fuck what the world threw at him. Glasses clinked, handshakes were awarded and hugs were plentiful as the crowds cast their gaze upon this man, this hero of our time, in full running gear, with an Afro higher than Tom Brady’s ego, on an assignment to down drink after drink of all shades and colors while moving expeditiously from bar to bar.

Stamina be damned. Willpower would carry him and his effervescent froth of associates on this documented journey, even as speech slurred and threes become eights. (See video of this adventure at folioweekly.com.)Drink after drunk and pour after no more would sadly claim Pablo before his task was completed, his noble pursuits drowned by sweet, sweet beer. The total course was 0.8 miles, from start to finish. But Pablo Sandcastle would come up short, after only six bars, 12 high-quality beers and a half-mile, ending his disappointing reign at Dahlia’s. To soldier on risked blacking out (mostly from the beer, less so the running, honest)

While Sandcastle’s rule was short-lived, the throne is always there for the taking. Judge not his failure; instead, rest easy knowing that a man among men will try again in the near future (under the proper supervision, of course). Until then, be safe and stay classy, Jacksonville.

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