Color Me Rad stages 5K races that transform runners into mobile rainbows by launching cheerful barrages of colored cornstarch. Each color station along the racetrack flings a new, nontoxic pigment at passersby, who wear white shirts to enhance the chromatic onslaught's costuming effects. Brilliant neon-blue, green, purple, and yellow clouds dapple participants along the way, and the race concludes with a prismatic finish-line finale as sprinters chuck colors at each other in celebration. The race's noncompetitive credo shifts the emphasis from speed to silliness, and a portion of its proceeds go to local charities.
Upon registration, each runner collects a Color Me Rad T-shirt, sunglasses, sponsor gifts, and a race bib. Though they don't receive a gift packet, runners younger than 8 years old can sprint for free, provided they have a waiver signed by a guardian and won't give in to demands for gold from confused leprechauns.
Uninitiated Indian foodies can enter the chambers of Taj Mahal's bountiful menu of flavorful fare with a safe yet savory sampling of garlic naan ($3.50) paired with a plate of deep-fried cutlets packed with mashed potatoes and veggies peppered in spicy herbs ($5). Main plates will satisfy carnivores and vegetarians alike, with options ranging from boldly spiced chicken vindaloo pinched with lemon and vinegar ($15) to navrattan curry, which features nine garden-fresh friends hanging out in a simmering pool of yogurt, cashews, cream, and butter ($13). No matter the dish, you get to choose how much you'd like the chef to spice it up; specify whether you'd like it mild, medium, sporty, spicy, really spicy, or "Shiva's sweat," which requires you to sign a waiver first.
Your hands wrap around the grip of a Tippmann marker. Multicolored spheres fly past you, spattering the trees and cutting air inches from your mask. Through the foliage, you can see half a plane buried nose-first in a clearing, one of many obstacles concealing potential foes. At SplatterPark, this good-natured combat sprawls across the adrenaline-soaked turf of 12 outdoor fields and 40 wooded and open acres adjacent to a lake. Warriors battle through capture-the-flag, base-defense, and other scenarios in themed arenas with adventurous names including Fort Buckeye, Snake Pit, and Dark Forest. Each field is suited to at least three types of play, but only the regular type of physics, and shouts of camaraderie echo off paint-flecked cover such as a broken-down school bus and a wooden-slat fort. In preparing for battle, combatants strap on rental or purchased gear under covered staging shelters, happy in the knowledge that their biodegradable paint ammunition will be harmlessly washed away by the elements or bears doing community service.The arena's surreal terrain was featured in the intense combat of Greg Hastings' Tournament Paintball, a video game from Activision, but the real park caters to players of all abilities and ages. At an onsite café, hot dogs and burgers refuel warriors and allow them to tell if their nemeses are actually target dummies with no appetite, and the pro shop's staff bustles among markers, accessories, and spare parts.
No matter what time it is, someone somewhere is working out at Anytime Fitness. More than 1,800 franchised clubs across the country fling open their doors 24 hours a day, revealing gaggles of equipment designed to make working out less of a chore. Rows of Lifestyle Fitness treadmills and Precor ellipticals mounted with cardio TV let guests work out and catch up on their favorite shows, and Expresso game cycles blend the excitement of playing video games with the exercise of riding your bike to a friend's house to play video games. In addition to copious supplies of free weights, the gym also stocks a Koko all-in-one training machine. The futuristic robot-butler-esque equipment stores individual workout plans and progress on a chip so exercisers can track their performance over time on the built-in monitor.
Tomato plants are imperfect, yielding just as many inedible fruits as the healthy, tasty ones. The organizers of The Tomato Bash devised an alternative employment for the unworthy bounty, transforming the leftover tomatoes into ammunition for a massive ketchup making party. Participants are encouraged to sport silly costumes for the big event, as they are inevitably going to get utterly filthy.
To kick off the festivities, revelers are entertained with a cadre of food trucks, beverage vendors, and DJ playing tunes, including rebellious anthems encouraging the tomatoes to throw themselves. At 3 p.m., the tomato foam machine outside of the tomato arena powers up, pumping the stage area full of bubbly, pink fruit foam. Then the hordes of goggle-clad contestants descend upon a large arena and lose themselves in a sea of red goo.