on ons, down downs, and blue suede shoes!

Thursday night I experienced a pretty remarkable slice of kookiness. I was going to say a slice of Australiana, but it was certainly much more than that. Last week, my dear friend Arielle attended her first run with the Hash House Harriers in Vietnam, and encouraged me to try going to one of the Sydney clubs! Trying to explain the H3 tradition is a bit tedious, so I encourage checking out these sites. Basic summary: groups of people around the world run around on little maze/trails and then drink a lot of beer. So, I found out that the Sydney Thirsty H3 club was meeting up only a few blocks from home and I took my weak non-runners legs over to Rushcutters Bay park. Of course, the largest and noisest group had to be them!

I was the only virgin at the Hash, so they sang rude songs to me and paired me up with a buddy who would show me the ropes. Seth/Last Licks (they all have dirty Hash names) is a New Yorker who's been in Sydney for nine years, and he stayed with me all night so I would meet people and not get lost, etc. The group was about 35 people, with 1 Kiwi, 4 Yanks, and about as many Poms. I was definitely the youngest in the group, but I'm told the Thirsty Hash is the most inclusive group in Sydney (more women and young people).

And off we went! I am a horrid runner and it was definitely a challenge, but the structure of the Hash is such that all athletic levels can keep up with each other because everyone's trying to follow the trail. Seth was very good at slowing down when I was wheezing, teaching me how the Hash works, and asking me questions about myself. My answers would come back to haunt me when the whole group gathered at the finish. More rude songs and naughty words as the potato chips flowed and I was commanded to chug beers in celebration.

I did well.

But this night was a Hash like no other! It was the first ELVIS NIGHT in four years! Three of the runners changed into Elvis costumes, and then we all headed up the street to Elvis Pizza, a pizza parlour devoted to the Big Bopper. Oops, I mean Elvis. The walls were covered in Elvis posters and weird paintings of iconic figures like Elvis, Marilyn Monroe, James Dean, et al gathered in the same place. We drank, we ate tonnes of pizza, and then...AUSTRALIAN ELVIS joined us. He represented bloated Elvis (who we all know is far superior to young Elvis) in a white bedazzled jumpsuit, a great wig, and a thick Australian accent. The Karaoke machine started playing the tunes and Australian Elvis serenaded the crazy Hashers. We sang, we danced, I pretended to faint when pretend Elvis took my real hand. It was a great night.

Rock out with your cock out!

So it was an incredible first time Hashing, and I definitely look forward to joining them again. They meet every Thursday nights at the same time as my ballet class, so I think I'm going to alternate between the two each week. More stories to come, I hope!