To be sure, there are some awesome charity events out there. Last year, the Boston and New York Marathons raised $40 million for nonprofits, and since 1988, , the fundraising arm of the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society, has brought in $1.4 billion. There鈥檚 also no denying the personal satisfaction 颅derived from pushing your limits for ten months to earn a new personal 颅record in the event of your choice.
But while we admire the goal 颅setting and the philanthropy, today鈥檚 competitive landscape鈥攚ith its 颅rowdy obstacle courses, diverse cycling events, unsanctioned running and mountain-biking competitions, and demanding winter races鈥攃an make signing up for a single 颅annual fundraiser seem like hitting the ski slopes once a year.
Legions of amateur athletes are entering a dozen or more races annually鈥攊n some instances, two or three a month. Yes, the events are challenging. And nothing provides that extra bit of training motivation like a series of races blocked out on the calendar.
Meanwhile, race organizers are 颅retooling events to make them more fun, offering swag (like Warrior Dash鈥檚 boast-worthy viking helmets), placing emcees along the course rather than just at the end, and offering 颅music and free beer at the finish.
At , 35,000 spectators and athletes camp out on the shores of Lake San Antonio for the weekend, heckle race participants, and consume plenty of libations at night. “It鈥檚 dirty, it鈥檚 hard鈥攖here鈥檚 no slickness about it,” says three-time winner Jesse Thomas. “You show up with your friends and family, you compete, you push yourself, and then you go celebrate a little too much. It鈥檚 a microcosm of what life should be about.” We couldn鈥檛 agree more.