Big guts, bigger smiles: Taco Bell 50K draws hundreds for running, eating challenge

Run, burrito, repeat.

That was the post-Thanksgiving plan for hundreds of runners around the Washington area who gathered for a Taco Bell-themed ultramarathon on Saturday. They started at a location in Alexandria, Virginia, and hit eight other stops across the Old Dominion and the District, consuming at least one menu item at each establishment.

The route spanned 50 kilometers, or about 31 miles, with a few ground rules: the Taco Bells had to be visited in order, drinks did not fulfill the “menu item” requirement and no Pepto Bismol, Alka Seltzer, Pepcid or Mylanta was allowed.

Runners needed to suffer without chemical assistance.

“Vomiting is allowed, but discouraged,” the event’s website proclaimed.

The race, perhaps understandably, was not officially sponsored by Taco Bell or its parent company, Yum! Brands. The company did not publicly comment on the event, but multiple runners guessed there may be too much vomit for a brand deal.

It’s reasonable for outside observers — or Taco Bell executives — to wonder why anyone would join this challenge. Running 31 miles in a day is already an incredible feat of endurance. So is eating nine Taco Bell menu items in 11 hours.

There is no good reason to do this.

The website cites a goal to “do something completely stupid.”

But why Taco Bell?

“Why not Taco Bell?” said Michael Wardian, a professional runner who organized the race.

Wardian and his co-organizer, Phil Hargis, didn’t come up with the idea on their own. Maniacs in the Denver area have been running a Taco Bell ultramarathon for eight years.

The event has long had a cult following, but it went viral on social media this October. Wardian, Hargis, and hundreds of the runners said they saw the flagship race on Instagram or TikTok and shared the same thought: “I want to do that.”

“I love Taco Bell. I’ve always loved Taco Bell,” said Tommy Strei, who started the race in a purple robe adorned with the restaurant’s logo.

It was a pandemic purchase, he confessed.

“The Taco Bell is kind of the crux here,” said Strei, who ran his first marathon earlier this year. “I’m trying to shift my mindset of, not every run has to be my best performance. This is for fun, and if I could finish it in half a day and eat nine Taco Bell items and not throw up, I’d be happy.”

For Streis and several other runners, the Taco Bell 50K dropped into their lives at the perfect time. A handful of contestants told The Washington Times that they had never run a marathon, let alone a 50K.

But there’s no time like the present, they reasoned.

“I saw it on Instagram and was like, ‘Man, that’s really cool.’ This is a good opportunity to push myself,” said Mike Young, a 21-year-old racer who’d never run more than seven miles before Sunday. “It’s just a journey of making stuff happen for yourself, trusting in God.”

Young isn’t even a Taco Bell fan. As a lifter, he’d heard too many horror stories of athletes loading up on the fast food and “just pooping it all out.”

Every runner had a strategy on Saturday. Young focused on Taco Bell’s Cinnamon Delights, bite-sized balls that he could easily grab at each stop. Other runners loaded up on their items in advance, taking Ziploc bags out of their packs with day-old chalupas or cheesy potatoes.

One racer’s haul of items featured inspirational messages on the resealable containers: “One wrapper closer to freedom.”

The broad range of menu items was part of the appeal. Vegans like Wardian had plenty of options, as did the taco-averse runners like Young.

The organizers did warn the field in pre-race emails: don’t rely exclusively on Taco Bell to fuel your race. There are no electrolytes in Mountain Dew Baja Blasts.

The wisest runners started preparing their digestive systems for the deluge of Mexican food in advance. Wardian did not count himself among that sage group.

The professional runner hadn’t eaten at Taco Bell in 20 years. He crammed a handful of items the night before the race and hoped for the best.

“I woke up this morning, and I was like, ‘Oh. Okay. I have a lot of concerns,” Wardian said before the race, noting that the food made his “belly feel funny.” “The Taco Bell is definitely a limiting factor.”

But after setting up a website and registration page at breakneck speed, Wardian and Hargis arrived at the King Street Taco Bell before 6 a.m. on Saturday morning to start checking in runners.

When the sun finally rose, the onslaught of hungry runners had begun to congregate. The first Taco Bell on the route opened its doors early, allowing the frigid racers to huddle indoors for warmth, like grains of rice stuffed into a burrito.

Behind the counter of the establishment, a half-dozen Taco Bell employees weathered the storm of the busiest Saturday morning of their fast-food careers. The location doesn’t have a drive-through, but they dish out hundreds of tacos to untold busloads worth of runners before the promise of a new day crests over the horizon.

They donned costumes — man-sized chickens, chalupas and tacos crammed into the restaurant, which quickly approached its fire marshal-approved capacity. A runner wearing a foot and another dressed as Marvel’s Deadpool joined the ranks, pausing for photo ops.

The runners were ecstatic as they piled into Pineda’s workplace. Despite the frigid temperatures and early start, the runners crack countless smiles and hug their friends — new and old. The grins mask a nervousness. Almost nobody in the field had run an event like this before.

They gathered in and around the first Taco Bell, but they ran on their own.

That’s part of the appeal. This isn’t a comparatively cushy marathon with cheering fans, on-call first responders and a roped-off course. The Taco Bell 50K is a different beast.

“Some people are just used to going to a race where it’s a controlled environment, just running between the lines. This is going to kind of expand, in my mind, what they’re capable of, and then they’re going to be able to have even more adventures as they go forward,” Wardian said. “That’s how it worked for me.”

But first, the runners must suffer. There is no way to run 30 miles and eat approximately 2,000 calories without some degree of misery.

That’s part of the appeal.

“There’s nothing about comfort that I’m looking for here,” said Young, who completed the race sleeveless. “I’m looking for pain. I’m looking to suffer. What’s the point of me being comfortable? I’m running 31 miles; I want it to suck.”

Before the runners crammed their first taco into their mouths to start the race, Haggis and Wardian left them with some advice to make the race suck less. Runners’ phones were likely to die — Haggis needed a rechargeable battery to complete his trial run of the route — so they may want to run in pairs to help navigate.

“We just want people to go out, have a good time, be safe and come back with a bigger gut and a bigger smile,” Haggis said.

Approximately 500 runners checked in. And, against all odds, most of them finished.

The organizers handed out jumbo-sized, packet-shaped awards to the top three finishers: “Fire!” for first place, “hot” for second and “(mild)” for third.