The Preakness Stakes isn’t just all about horses and seeing which ones runs the fastest. It’s not the only thing you could do and see at Pimlico. Baltimore has a lot to offer for people to enjoy when in the sweet city of Baltimore.
Among those endorsed by usual Preakness visitors is the Hot Air Balloon Festival, which happens just 24 minutes from Pimlico. Of course you can opt to stay in Pimlico and just watch colorful balloons litter and decorate the skies. Or if you’re into history, how about paying Edgar Allan Poe’s house a visit?
And hey, you could also watch a baseball game at Camden Yards. We heard the Orioles are good these days.
All those activities, however, can’t hold a candle to what occurs at the infield of the Pimlico Race Course, where arguably the most inane side activity in sports takes place: the Toilet Run. It is exactly as stupid as it sounds like. Inebriated men go atop a long line of portable toilets and race (or just run) while trying to avoid getting hit by a bevy of beer cans heaved at them by onlookers.
This is the type of activity Johnny Knoxville and his band of jackasses would have wanted to have thought of doing first.
How and when exactly the Toilet Run started is difficult to determine likely because of its spontaneity but the event grew in popularity in the mid-2000’s, when proliferation of camera phones helped make it viral.
The Toilet Run craze, unfortunately, has significantly died down since 2009, when organizers started preventing spectators from bringing their own beers. Sure, beers are available at the tracks for only $20 but falling in line to get your cup refilled or get another can of alcohol is quite a stretch if you’re really just going to fling them.
The move backfired, though, with attendance falling to 77,850 in 2010 from 112,222 the year before. Organizers tried to recapture those lost audience by introducing the “InfieldFest”, which is basically a blend of live music and beer along with a mascot called “Kegasus”. All these, however, isn’t as crazy as the Toilet Run.
