It’s 4 a.m. in Seattle and a runner rounds a block in Capitol Hill followed by another runner. Then another. They’re all wearing matching headlamps and headed in the same direction, to a gear shop called Windthrow where more runners are dispersed between the store and strip mall.
Some rest on sleeping pads, others munch on snacks. Some stand and stretch in anticipation of their teammate passing them the baton. There’s also a cohort of others, either naturally energetic or fueled by copious amounts of caffeine, dancing to a rotating set of musicians.
This was the scene at Overtime, Windthrow’s third annual 24-hour relay, also part music festival and sleepover, unfolding the last weekend in July.
Hosting unconventional events like this wasn’t part of some carefully constructed retail strategy when Nate Hoe opened the shop in 2023. It was instinct. He and his creative partner, Chris De La Fuente, had spent years throwing underground DIY parties and raves, often staying up all night. Events were simply something they knew how to produce and wanted to keep doing.
“If you put it on paper, I’m sure my accountant would say this doesn’t make a lot of sense,” Hoe says. “But it really is the reason that my store exists.”
The idea for this wacky activation came after Hoe witnessed a high-energy relay around the block hosted by the Paris retailer Distance. When a Windthrow customer suggested he take the concept a step further, Hoe started thinking about what a 24-hour version could look like in Seattle. As a longtime distance runner and ultramarathoner, the format immediately made sense. It also harkened back to a relay from his college days, when runners would circle a track through the night to raise money, a concept that was popular in the ’80s and ’90s.
Overtime, called Nonstop in its first year and rebranded when Hoka came on as title sponsor, became a natural mash-up of Hoe’s worlds: the endurance and athleticism of distance running, the irreverence of his DIY roots, and the energy of a late-night dance party. The result is difficult enough to feel like a real challenge, but unconventional enough to feel like its own alternate universe, with people from different crowds and scenes co-mingling at odd hours.
The mayhem began at 8 p.m. Friday. Teams of five to 10 runners competed to see who can run the most laps in 24 hours, running all through the night until the next day at 8 p.m. For a $35 registration fee, every racer got a T-shirt, headlamps from Knog, burritos, donuts, coffee, and nutrition from Maurten. Winners got prize packages including Hoka shoes and more swag.
Hoka brought the same huge inflatable structures that they bring to the Western States Endurance Run and a tent (named for the event the “riff tent)” where the DJs and bands play. The registration fee covers Windthrow’s investment, while the sponsors foot the bill for everything that makes Overtime feel more like a 24-hour party than a race.
As for what Hoe gets out of hosting the event as a business, immediate sales aren’t really the point. Sure, 140 runners sleeping outside the store is a good opportunity to sell something, but he doesn’t measure Overtime by how much product moves that weekend. Instead, he sees it as an investment in the store’s community and in the brands that support it.
“People are there for 24 hours, hopefully they buy stuff,” Hoe says. “But…I think of these things as separate entities, like we’re just gonna partner with a brand and work really hard on this event and it will benefit the store at a later time. As long as the store doesn’t lose any money on it, we’re happy.”
Three years in, neighboring businesses know what to expect, and Hoe receives very few complaints. He knows now to order enough porta-potties for more than 100 runners, so they’re not only using the store’s restroom. And paying the local musicians is always a must.
At 140 runners, this year’s event reached its realistic capacity. Hoe had initially planned to cap registration at 100 racers but forgot to set the limit in the RunSignup form. By the time he realized his mistake, 140 runners had already signed up. Any more and Hoe said it would start to “look like a FEMA camp out there.” All things considered, it went smoothly.
In previous years, everyone tended to congregate in one central area and hang out. But this year’s larger field spread the teams out, each creating its own little camp and time-passing activities, from chalk drawings to impromptu somersault competitions. Hoe made his rounds, but there were things happening that he didn’t even know about until he saw photos.
To put on a production like Overtime is no easy feat. Hoe thinks about it for most of the year. But he also makes sure he has as much fun as the attendees. He often thinks about how at one of the very first events Windthrow ever hosted, a group of girls met as strangers and are now best friends.
“They shop in the store and they support us and they’re cool,” Hoe says. “That’s the stuff you’re really trying to do it for and that’ll benefit you later on.”