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Intro


Since 2014, RunTOBeer has been Toronto’s craft beer running series, meeting every week or two to check out some of the city's finest venues.

Runs are 3 / 5 / 10k, but we do things differently. Rather than starting together and racing to the finish, the 10k runners begin first and they collect the 5k runners. The larger group then goes to where the 3k runners are waiting and we all grab our beer together!

Mostly sticking to city sidewalks, we deal with traffic lights, pedestrians, construction sites and other urban challenges, then reward ourselves with a pint or two.

 

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Intro


Since 2014, RunTOBeer has been Toronto’s craft beer running series, meeting every week or two to check out some of the city's finest venues.

Runs are 3 / 5 / 10k, but we do things differently. Rather than starting together and racing to the finish, the 10k runners begin first and they collect the 5k runners. The larger group then goes to where the 3k runners are waiting and we all grab our beer together!

Mostly sticking to city sidewalks, we deal with traffic lights, pedestrians, construction sites and other urban challenges, then reward ourselves with a pint or two.

 

Our History


Our History


Where We've Been

OUR HISTORY

Canadian Running Magazine

 

It had been the worst winter in recent memory, with terms like “polar vortex” and “frost quake” entering the lexicon. A season's worth of ice storms, water main breaks, multi-vehicle pile ups and predictable Maple Leafs results had blackened the spirits of Toronto. It was a dark time in our great city's history.

Sunday, March 2nd was worse than most days in the bleak winter of '14, when two strangers shook hands for the first time. At the gates of Trinity Bellwoods they waited in -20 degree conditions for the others to arrive. But no one came.

Finally, they ran.

Streets, like poorly maintained curling sheets, tested their concentration... and their luck. Crooked, uneven trails replaced hibernating city sidewalks. Shoppers, from parked cars to storefronts, darted into their path while seemingly random sandwich boards added still another layer of obstacles.

Into an onslaught of ice crystals they stumbled forward, like drunken Plinko chips towards their goal. The wind howled and the sun hid.

Finally, five frozen kilometers later, teeth chattering like possessed typewriters, the pair arrived at the Distillery District.

And there was beer.