The first and most enduring beer/run link was forged when hot, tired athletes reached for a "cold one" following a hot summer race or workout, thus combining three of the things we crave after such efforts: Thirst quenchment; a few calories to kick off the recovery process; and, a little brain-relief. The post-race keg was not permitted in the jurisdiction in which I started road racing (Ontario, the Canadian province founded and politically dominated by Scottish Presbyterians), but it was a staple of the post-race repose just south of the border in "upstate" New York. Even the tiny town of Cape Vincent, which hosted a late summer 5 mile race whose start had to be delayed so as not to interfere with Sunday church comings and goings (thus making it even hotter!), tapped a keg of lager for its 100 or so sweaty finishers (then also offered river access, for a slightly tipsy, and almost certainly un-insureable, dive into the cool August flow.) Like everyone else, I loved this ritual, right down to the drowsy ferry ride back to Canada and the mild late-Sunday afternoon hangover. What I recognized even then, however, was that the beer served was barely palatable, no matter how tired, hot, hungry, or in need of release you might have felt. A favourite offering at "North Country" road races in those days was Genesee Cream Ale (vile, even when ice cold), but you could also find yourself subjected to an Old Milwaukee or a Bud Light.
Inexplicably, and probably out of sheer habit, many runners still reach for beers like this on a post-run summer day. And, when challenged by runners like me to broaden their post-run beer horizons, some will reply that the don't want their run/beer relationship "complicated" by concerns about brew quality. As the Globe and Mail editorialist I referenced last week-- the guy who wrote that abject "defense of crappy beer"--, they will say: "Sometimes I just want a cold beer! Away with your beer snobbery!
Since the mandate of Hop Along is not mere beer snobbery (although a pinch of beer snobbery does go into every batch of Hop Along!), but also to offer constructive suggestions to help the serious runner raise his/her been fancying to a similar level, I now present you with a thrilling alternative to your post-summer run problem-- one that involves little or know extra expense or hassle (assuming you aren't too geographically isolated): The sour ale.
When someone says "sometimes I just want a cold beer" what I hear is: "Sometimes I want a malt-based, lower alcohol beverage that tastes refreshing when served cold-- that "sometimes" being when I am hot and thirsty, such as after a run or workout in summer temperatures, and want to drink such a beverage relatively quickly." There was a time when there was indeed only one solution to this problem-- the macro lager, pilsner, or pale ale. For at least the past 10 years, however, the only excuses for such a sad resort have been complacency, not having discovered Hop Along, or perhaps a latent adolescent palate (and there's your pinch of snobbery for this edition!). Today, the hot runner is easily extricated from his/her predicament by one of many excellent pale and blond ales, and by my favourite hot weather style-- the Gose, a variant of the now almost ubiquitous "sour beer".
As the link above explains, not all sour beers are like the Gose or "Berliner Weiss". Lambics, for instances, while tart, are also often heavy and pretty complex flavour-wise. They thus demand slower imbibation and a little more time and attention to fully appreciate. The lighter, more carbonated sours are often brewed with wheat malt and, increasingly, fruit adjuncts for secondary fermentation (i.e. when the yeast dines on the added fructose). The sourness in the style is created by these fruit adjuncts, by the introduction of the same kind of bacteria that creates yoghurt (lactobacillus), and/or by the use of wild yeasts (formerly an unwanted by-product of the brewing process, now "tamed" to great effect by expert brewers). The Gose, a German style so popular 800 years ago that entire drinking establishments were dedicated to its enjoyment (or so claims the can blurb on my favourite brand, made by South Carolina's Westbrook Brewery), is the best version of the sour for post-run quaffing, and it is now available from dozens of breweries. The classic version includes no fruit adjuncts, just the original coriander and salt, producing the intriguing interplay of spice, dank sourness, and savoriness that is its signature. Weighing in at 4-5% abv, at typical can of Gose is a 3-4 sipper at best; lacking the hop bitterness characteristic of ales, even your lower alcohol variants, this beer goes down quickly and deliciously. Even the fruitier, higher alcohol varieties goes down quickly and very pleasantly. So delightful are the sour beers on a post-run summer afternoon that I have single-handedly created new beer lovers by offering or suggesting one. Next time you are hot, sweaty, tired, and hungry from your summer exertions, reach not for your wretched lager! Instead, retrieve one of the sours you have purchased from your local retailer after having read this blog. Widely available brands (in Canada) include Collective Art's rotating line-up of Goses and Berliner Weisses and Nicklebrook's sometimes very fruity renditions. But, if you're looking for something above the recreational level-- something sub-30/35 speed-- get thee to the Bellwoods Brewery in Toronto (or to a more discerning bar in your area) or to Montreal's Dieu du Ceil! (their Summer Solstice sour is one of the highlights of summer, and one of the highest rated beers in Canada across all styles).
What am I Drinking this Week?
On a tip from fellow runner and beer-man Kurtis Marlowe, also our massage guy at Queen's and Physi-Kult, I broke down and tried Flying Monkey's audacious triple IPA, Sparkle Puff (I say "broke down" because, generally speaking, Flying Monkey has not lived up to its early promise as regards IPAs. Their offerings have been generally under-hopped or poorly executed, leaving them with a mouth full of dust, courtesy of regional rival Collective Arts in particular). Sparkle Puff is decidedly NOT the kind of post-run thirst quencher described above, nor was it brewed to be. It is a 10% abv monster that is not afraid to show its particulate (and it is visibly laden with sediment), and that needs to be imbibed slowly and deliberately. I was initially unimpressed, but certainly not put off. It was pleasantly peachy in smell and presentation, with bitterness only in somewhat boozy finish (less boozy than the 10% would lead one to expect, however). When it warmed, and after I poured the remaining sediment into the glass, however, it jumped a level, gaining some weight and complexity (other fruit flavour notes and some dankness appeared). This beer ultimately earned its relatively high BA rating, but I would recommend it strictly to more experienced IPA fanciers. For anyone else, it may come off as stuntishly incomprehensible (what's with all that sediment!?). And, of course, go easy, or consider splitting with a friend, lest you get knocked on your skinny runner's ass by the abv!
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