The Hash House Harriers describe themselves as “a drinking group with a running problem.”

Since the first days of the club in Malaysia in 1938, a core principle of the activity has been “to acquire a good thirst and satisfy it in beer.” A noble aim, and one that even non-Hashing runners will recognise.

British expats living in Kuala Lumpur, bored, put together a paper trail, a game remembered from their public school days, often called Hares and Hounds: the ‘Hare’ was given paper, flour or chalk and a head start. He dropped the trail as he went and the hounds—other runners—followed. The trail went through rough country, giving both Hare and Hounds an enjoyable workout, and there was plenty of cold beer at the end. Nearly a century later, there are chapters of the Hash all over the world.

Beer and running go together. Not only on the Hash. Brewery runs are a popular activity in America and the UK, with some running clubs—for example, Track Brew Co’s One Foot Forward in Manchester—meeting at the same taproom each month. There are world record Beer Miles. Bottles and cans are handed out at the finishing lines of major races—sometimes alcoholic, sometimes not.

I grew up in the Middle East, part of a tight ex-pat community. My parents met at the Bahrain Black Hash, a local chapter of the Hash House Harriers. It was hugely important to our lives and defined many of my family’s friendships for decades. As a child, I was introduced to people by their Hash names—cheeky nicknames not suitable to be mentioned here—and that’s how I continue to know them now. I spent my formative years watching my teachers drinking warm beer from each other’s shoes—a longstanding Hash tradition found in every chapter worldwide.

““After a long dusty trail run, NOTHING tastes as good as a cold beer.””

— Suzi Saunders, Ultrarunner

The structure of a Hash is this: attendees turn up at the designated time and place, specified by the Hare (whoever has taken a turn setting the trail that week). After a brief description of the run and any anomalies to watch out for, they set off, usually in two loose groups: walkers and Front Running Bastards, or FRBs. The Hare has laid a trail ahead of time, in paint, chalk, paper, sawdust or, most often, flour. FRBs will enjoy a speedy hour’s run, following falsies (deliberate wrong turns) and plenty of shiggy (mud, etcetera); walkers will follow at a more sedate pace, having a gossip and avoiding these dead ends. Both groups reach the finish at roughly the same time, with all having taken a little fresh air and at least a modicum of exercise.

At the finish, Hashers of all ages and abilities gather in a circle to listen as the Religious Advisor (master of ceremony) berates them for misdemeanours on and off the trail such as taking shortcuts, getting married, or having new trainers. Hashers are called into the circle and given a ‘down-down’: they chug a beer, usually from a stein but sometimes from a shoe, accompanied by ritual songs.

There are various differences depending on the Hash in question and the preferences of the RA, but this is the basic premise: a novel run, a cheeky bit of fun, and then often an hour or two of socialising.

With this as my formative experience of running, it should come as no surprise that running and beer have always been linked for me. I spent my twenties indulging in both, with running turning to ultrarunning as the years passed. Perhaps surprisingly beer is a vital, though much smaller, part of ultrarunning, too.

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Ultrarunners joke about carb-loading pizza and beer the night before a 50-mile run and many look forward to that first frosty bottle at the finish line. Some runners take a more immediate approach.

Camille Herron set a new record for the Illinois, USA 100-mile Tunnel Hill Ultra in 2017 after stopping to drink a bottle and a half of Rogue Ales’ Dead Guy Ale—a 6.8% Maibock-style beer—20 miles from the finish. She is a firm believer in tacos and beer as nutrition and now incorporates beer into her training strategy. It helps that her background is in bone imaging and osteoimmunology. She spoke on episode eight of The Beer Runner Podcast about working in a lab that carried out alcohol studies during grad school: “I was fascinated,” she said. “I ended up increasing my beer consumption because of what I was learning.”

For Camille, drinking during a run was initially accidental; a last-ditch suggestion by her husband as she attempted to settle her gut 51 miles into hot trail race. “I chugged that thing in ten seconds and it was amazing,” Camille told host and fellow runner Tim Cigelske. “I suddenly had this mental clarity. Before I knew it I got out of the chair and took off running. It felt like this magical potion.”

For most weekend warriors, beer is kept to an after-run activity. Even runners who don’t usually drink beer may opt for one after a race. Suzi Saunders and Kathleen Shoda were some of the trail runners who spoke to me about how they usually drink wine, gin or cocktails, and yet reach for a beer after a race.

“I'm not a big beer drinker,” Suzi tells me. “But after a long dusty trail run, NOTHING tastes as good as a cold beer.”

“A good one, not PBR,” Kathleen adds. “Dreaming of the beer at the end of the race has helped me get to the finish line!”

Olly Clarke, moved from a career in beer marketing to coaching runners when he founded Swift Run Coaching in 2021. He knows all too well about that insatiable craving for a beer following a tough run.

“It’s the same concept as wanting a nice hot bath,” he tells me. “After a long run I genuinely want a Burger King Whopper, but I don’t ever have one because I know it’s going to sit there like a stone!”

Most of Olly’s runners work in the beer or hospitality industries, and tend to run so that they can balance their alcohol consumption, but he doesn’t encourage this kind of thinking: “Everyone comes back to beer being the reward for running, whereas running should be the reward for running.”

Still, so popular is a post-run beer that some breweries and brands have started to push it as a nutritious way to refuel after exercise, using creative marketing to reach new audiences.

Beer contains essential vitamins and minerals that are lost during exercise. It is isotonic. It has sodium, B vitamins, calcium, and twice as much potassium as a banana. It is made of carbohydrates and water, both of which are a requirement following a run. Despite these essential components, however, there is no getting away from the fact that alcohol is a diuretic, and can cause dehydration.

Connecticut’s Athletic Brewing Company is one of a host of companies to recently start promoting their non-alcoholic beers to the American fitness market. “We’re beer lovers at heart. But we also love being healthy, active, and at our best,” reads the label for their Run Wild alcohol-free IPA.

Associating alcohol-free beers with running isn’t new, even if beers brewed specifically for post-exercise nutrition might be. Races, including the Berlin and Manchester marathons, give out Erdinger Alkoholfrei to competitors at the finish line. With the alcohol-free market exploding in recent years there are more options available than ever before, and delicious ones at that.

For many, however, 0% ABV beers won’t cut it. Many athletes who’ve dedicated time and effort to their sport look forward to the light buzz of a proper beer once they’ve crossed the finishing line. While there have long been lower-alcohol mass-produced lagers available, such as Bud Light and Michelob Ultra, several new beers from smaller, independent breweries are doing their best to corner the calorie-conscious consumer. Genius Brewing, based in Glasgow, Scotland, gained investment for their 3% craft lager when they appeared on Dragon’s Den after beginning their one-minute pitch by illustrating how many minutes of exercise it takes to burn off a typical lager.

“We wanted to give people who are used to full-fat beers an intro to a beer that does the same with fewer calories,” Genius co-owner Jason Clarke says. “It has the same mouthfeel, it does exactly what beer does.”

““Everyone comes back to beer being the reward for running, whereas running should be the reward for running.””

— Olly Clarke, Swift Run Coaching

While Genius are pitching their beers to the fitness industry too, they know that beer drinkers want something that tastes good and gives the drinker that alcohol buzz. They are not claiming their beers as a suitable recovery drink, but rather a way of enjoying the social aspects of their sport without consuming high levels of alcohol.

Personally, while I might watch my units or ABV intake, I don’t worry about calories. If I’m drinking a beer, I’m drinking a beer. I’m not thinking about what I did to earn it, as if that’s a healthy way to exist. This is probably a hangover from Hashing days, where beer is simply there to be enjoyed.

In 2021, Hashing is not as popular as it once was. At its peak in the 1970s and 80s, there were more than 2000 chapters across 180 countries. Though documenting them all is notoriously difficult (there is no central Hash House Harriers organisation or headquarters), some estimate there are roughly half that amount today, and that many have only a handful of regular attendees.

Along with the advancing age of many of the most enthusiastic Hashers, there are other factors at play. Drink-driving is now (unsurprisingly) frowned upon, for one. While having one or two units and getting behind the wheel might still be allowable in some countries, it isn’t conducive to downing multiple beers and properly getting into the spirit of the Hash.

It would be a travesty for the Hash to disappear completely. While I could do without the punching-down some members revel in, it is a historic, fun way to take part in a little exercise, a little beer, and a lot of socialising. There is ritual, there are songs. Most importantly, it’s the combination of two of this life’s greatest pleasures.

Like all the longest-lasting relationships, the one between beer and running is complex and ever-evolving. Hashing is a social endeavour that brings together people from different backgrounds. With its modest, and (relatively) wholesome goals, it’s reasonable to hope that the Hash House Harriers evolve too, and continue to hold their place in a more considerate world.