Distinctly Montana Magazine

D I S T I N C T LY M O N TA N A • S P R I N G 2 0 1 6 58 LAP 2 I'd first heard of the beer mile when its race director approached me after a local 5k. He told me of a different kind of race he hosts each year. He said it was only advertised by word of mouth. I love to run. And I love a good beer. How hard could it be? By the start of lap 2, I was finding out how wrong I was. What normally came naturally was now feeling clunky and heavy. I ran through the grassy park, burping and gasping for breath simultaneously. e beer mile is not easy. Lance Armstrong tried one in Texas in 2014 and dropped out after one lap, saying it wasn't what he expected. "My friends have more respect for me now that Lance couldn't even do it," Davis said. e Livingston race is one of the only annual beer miles held in Montana. Originally, the race took place on the high school track, but it was moved to the city park following grumblings from the school board. e idea of Livingston's civic leaders and school administrators slamming beers and running around the track raised some eyebrows. When the race first began, the lumber mill and railroad were the two big employers. Now, writers and artists fill the cafes and taverns on Livingston's busy main street. As the dynamics of the town change, the beer mile draws from a diverse spectrum of the community. A fleet-footed doctor won it two years in a row. He was eventually beat by a fast-drinking firefighter. I stood in the drinking area next to several other out-of-breath runners, alternating between gulping beer and gasping for air. e second beer polished, I let out a belch and headed out for the next quarter mile of carbonated complication. LAP 3 By the start of lap 3, Josh Pierce was asking himself a familiar question. "Why the hell am I doing this?" He slammed his third beer in an alarming three seconds. A tall, athletically built firefighter with blond hair and blue eyes, Pierce is not a runner. "I hate running with a passion," he said with a quick laugh. "It's my least favorite thing to do, right up there with roofing and sheet rocking." But the guy can drink. It's a skill he didn't discover until six years ago. "I didn't drink at all in college," he said. "I didn't know I could chug beer that fast until the first beer mile." Pierce has earned Livingston's beer mile champion title four times. "e trick is to do it really fast," he said. "By the time the beer sets in, you are done racing. en you can be miserable and sitting still, instead of miserable and running." Pierce has some other secrets that help him excel. He eats two pieces of bread before the race to soak up the alcohol. He forces himself to belch as much as possible while running. ("I can belch on command.") And he sticks with Pabst Blue Ribbon for its lightness and chug-ability. Most beer milers agree it's more important to be a fast drinker than a fast runner. "It takes some heavy drinking skills," Pierce said. "Something your mom can really be proud of." Davis, who finished second to a speed-drinker for the past four years, said the fastest drinkers have another advantage. "It can totally get in your head when you see those empty cups drop at the start of the race, while you're still drinking," she said. Alyssa Davis finally took home the Livingston Beer Mile trophy last year.

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