Pot O' Gold Fat Ass 50K-ish

The drive over to Pinkney is a little foggy, but nothing like two days ago when a tornado set down nearby in Dexter and wiped out ten houses, as well as damaged dozens of others. No one was hurt thankfully, but I'm wondering what the area is like, and if the trail we'll be running will be covered with downed trees. In fact, on that last main road there is a MDOT sign announcing simply that Pinkney-Dexter is closed. Yipes, the whole towns? But I don't see any wreckage and the side road up into the recreation area is open.

I'm early. The weather is, and has been, unusually warm for March in Michigan. Last year at this time I think we had two feet of snow. Now, it's spring, with birds and bugs out and about. My fellow runner from work, Mark, pulls up and says hello. While we're talking, the organizer of this Fat Ass, Lisa, pulls up and informs us that we're all supposed to meet up in the upper parking lot. Which, I didn't even know there was an upper parking lot. Good thing I got here in plenty of time, otherwise I'd be hanging out down here wondering where everyone was.

This is my second “Fat Ass” race, which is only kinda sorta a 'race'. Running Fit, the local running store company, has a Running Fit Ultramarathon Team (RUT for short), a group of hardcore runner in Washtenaw Country, and occasionally one of them organizes a longer race, though I think the Fat Ass concept is a national trend and concept, which I'm all for. There is as small sense of competition, enough to make one run at 'race pace' vs. a usual mellow run speed, though it's more about having other people to run with. This morning we seem to have about twenty people, all of whom have brought some kind of food or drink, ranging from healthy (bananas, salted almonds (my contribution)) to not (doughnuts, Mountain Dew).

I'm a little worried about getting lost. I've run in this area before, for Running Fit's Trail Marathon (and I'll be back in a few weeks to do so again) but I'm just worried about taking a wrong turn at Albequerque, even though Lisa goes over the layout. We're running the larger outer trail, the Potowatami, from which we get the name of this race, since the trail is lovingly known as, and marked as, the “Poto,” thus, “Pot o' Gold,” in keeping with the fact that it's St. Patrick's Day.

There are plenty o' trails in this rec area, but each intersection is numbered, with a map, and arrows pointing to the next trail markers. And, I'd thought that the Poto was about 13.1 miles, so that we'd run it twice, and those who wanted to make it a 50K would simply run an extra smaller loop, but Lisa explains to everyone that actually the Poto is about 14 miles, but can be made longer by adding on an extra side trail, making it 17 miles. So, since this is a RUT group, most people want the 50K, so will run the first loop at 17, then do the 14 miler. Me, I'm not so sure. This is actually my first long run of the year (I don't like running in the cold) so I'm going to just do the marathon option. Or, I guess now it will be 28 miles. Yikes. Well, ok.

I'm wondering if there are others down in the lower parking lot, but no one seems worried about it. I guess it's the Myers-Briggs INJT personality kicking in, wanting to make sure everything is organized precisely so as to help everyone. But, well, everyone here seems to know each other mostly. I live the next county over, just a little too far to take part in the regular long runs.

And, after a group photo, without much ceremony, Lisa says, “Go.” I hang back because, sure enough, Mark and all the other hardcore runners take off, leaving a few of us slowpokes in the dust. Actually I end up fairly quickly with one guy in front of me, and the two of us separate from the others behind us. He's going at a pace that's slightly slower than I'd want to be going, but instead of passing him and going off by myself, I hang back and start slow to pace myself a little. I always tend to start races faster than I normally would, and therefore tend to bog down at the end, though I think I'm going to bog down at the end of this no matter what.

His name, I think, but am not sure, is Rick. Name's are exchanges fairly quickly on these things, with everyone knowing we may separate at any point and not see each other again, and neither of us are regular RUTsters. But, he's interested in going beyond marathons, so when he hears about my experiences last year with my DNF at the Burning River 100M and the two 50 Milers I actually did finish, he picks my brain about what went wrong and right, which I'm happy to oblige. As much of a loner as I am, I now know that talking helps pass the time on these races, and keeps my mind off of, say, how sore my calves are from last weekend, when I really pushed myself.

At the first major intersection we stop to check the map. Basically we're supposed to take a right at every sign, except number 12, which is on the other side of the course. But neither one of us is familiar with the area. While we're looking, a group of three runners catches up to us and one of the women confirms that we go right, she's obviously run this route a lot, so we follow behind them for a while, until we hit some hills and end up passing them.

The trail heads north, following a long swampy lake. Canadian geese are honking away and I can hear some Sandhill Cranes somewhere. No bugs. I do have to say that it's turning into a warm day. I'm carrying my Amphipod water bottle, but I'm thinking it's not going to get me through 14 miles. Hm. The last Fat Ass I was in, a cooler of water was place at the halfway point, but that's not happening this time. Maybe I should have come a little better prepared, like with my bat-utility belt that holds to water bottle. Ah well.

I'm wearing my VFF KSOs, my old pair, still going strong after three years of abuse. I'm just not sure my feet are toughened up enough at this point in the year to get through a whole marathon. I considered doing the first loop bare, but I'm glad I didn't. If the trail were wetter and muddier, I might be able to go as fast as in VFFs, but it's just dry enough, and rocky enough, to make me feel thankful I've got that slab o' rubber there. I'm going to be slow enough, I don't need anything else holding me back.

At the northern most point, just when the trail turns west, we hit “Jurassic Park,” the nickname given to what is a University of Michigan Preserve. It just looks weird: a fifteen foot fence, with barbed wire on top, out in the middle of the woods. They really really don't want people sneaking in. That or they really really don't want any raptors getting out.

The trail looks like it goes straight south from here, but this is actually where it gets hillier, and there are many curves as the trail switchbacks up and down. We cross some roads, and some of the places along the route look familiar from the Trail Marathon, though we're actually running it in reverse, or, as some people said, not the “normal” way, which would be clockwise. Since this is a well used mountain bike route, where the bikes all go clockwise, Lisa's thinking, which I agree with, is to run facing them, so we can see them coming, because sometimes those guys come tearing around curves. Strangely though, we come across a group of like nine runners coming the other way, who say they're Fat Assers too. They must have arrived late? That's too bad, I would've liked more people out on the trail running in the same direction, especially since, after we hit trail marker 12, the guy I'm with decides to take off, which is fine, I certainly haven't been gaining speed on this thing. But, that puts me on my own. Which is fine, but I know I'll start zoning out and just running my mellow pace.

But man, I check my watch and I'm at two hours. This is a loooong half marathon, or 14 miles. That, and/or I'm waaaaay out of shape, which could very well be. But still, this trail seems to go on forever. I get to the next major trail intersection, the one where we could opt to add on an extra four miles to make it 17, and there's no way I'm going to do that. Fortunately there's a biker there two. He asks, “Did you just come from 12?”

“Yep.”

“Ok, well, I just came from the parking lot.” He points out the trail to take. That was easy and helpful. Glad we could help each other out.

I keep running. And running. Check my watch: Two and a half hours?! Really? For 14 miles? Man, I'm out of shape.

Finally finally finally I come down into the lower parking lot and head up to where all the goodies are stored. No one around. I check the sign-in sign: Only Mark and one other guy have checked in and gone on for loop two. Wow. Really? Does that mean everyone else (because most people have got to be ahead of me) took the 17 mile option? And therefor I'm now ahead of all them? I don't know, but I am going to eat some orange slices and bananas, and pound some water. Also some salty almonds. Mm, salt.

Man, 2:54 for a 14 mile loop? That is pathetic. Should I even attempt the second loop? But, I'm here, nothing else going on today. My big fear is being last, and having to keep Lisa and others waiting around for me, to make sure I haven't died or something. I was thinking that I'd finish my marathon around the same time as some people's 50Ks, but now I'm not so sure. Except no one else seems to be going that fast either, except Mark, damn him.

Well, the good news is that there are plenty o' shortcuts I can take I really really don't feel up to it. And so, after topping off with water, I head out again.

Almost immediately I start wondering if I've taken a wrong turn at ABQ. Stuff just doesn't look familiar, like for example that phone line that been knocked off the poles, I assume by the tornado weather, and is hanging across the trail at head level. How did I not see that before? Weird. Really shows how distracting, in a good way, talking to someone while running can be. But, there's the lake, and the shortcut, which I opt not to take, feeling, if not ok, then determined, at this point. And, here's Jurassic Park! Ok, I'm on the right trail. Hello raptors!

And I'm out of water. Shit. Well, I remember seeing a handpump at a campsite we ran through, but where is it? But, then, out of nowhere, an older gentleman in running gear is walking towards me, and he says, “Hello! Do you need any water? Or a Coke?”

I take a bottle of water and down it in one long chug. He fills up my bottle and offers me a bottle of Coke again. He's one of the people from that other group running the other way. He says he and some others ran the 17 mile loop, and that was enough, but that he'd put a 'stash' of drinks here on the opposite side, just in case, and since he didn't do the second loop, he's got some left over. I love minor miracles. I thank him profusely and run on. Just having this extra water has given me energy. Not sure if it's merely psychological, but I feel good. The calves aren't bothering me. I'm tired, yes, and not moving too fast, but I know I'm going to finish.

And I even run out of water again, but it's right before the campground, so I do stop at the pump, which actually works, with cold water! Yes!

Shortly after, around trail marker 12, two runners catch up to me. It's Lisa, the organizer, and another guy, a friend of her's. Rather than despairing that they may pass me, I actually get some energy, and we all run together. Turns out, they took the short cut, skipping the Jurassic Park section, which will make their second loop around ten miles, combined with the 17 mile loop the first time, that makes still more than a marathon. The guy as a GPS watch, and reveals that the loop I'm running is actually more like 15.5 miles! A ha! So, I'm actually running more like a 50K today. By accident. Well, that explains some things. Doh. Lisa apologizes, but actually I'm ok with it. I kinda like that I was tricked into running longer than I thought I could run.

And man, with the two of them, the last section goes by super quick. Amazing. Before I know it, there's the parking lot. Whew. Check the watch. Man. 6:56. Still an hour longer than I've run 50Ks before, but for March, with not having run more than 15 miles for since last December, I'll take it. I check the sign in list, which is now filled in. There's actually some folks still out on the trail, so I'm not last!

And now begins the gorging: more orange slices, bananas, almonds, and yes, a few doughnut holes, and some fig newtons, and someone made homemade oatmeal cookies. I'm probably eating back all the calories I just burned, but oh well, I feel good. I deserve a reward.

Overall, I almost kind of like these Fat Ass races more than some organized races. One, they're free, but there seems to be more camaraderie. And better food. I highly encourage others to hold these. If I weren't moving soon, I might consider hosting one in the Jackson area. Races are getting so expensive, especially out of town ones, that I just can't justify going to them. Yet, I like races, I run better at them, and become a better runner because of them. Or, looked at another way, they just create more races for people, because I'm fairly certain that everyone who ran this Fat Ass will also be in Running Fit's Trail Marathon, same area, in a few weeks. Having some free races throughout the year helps create more runners period.

Now, the drive back to Jackson, with my leg muscles already starting to tighten....

(I'm fifth from the left, in back)

Fat Ass Marathon, Brighton MI December 2011

I probably shouldn’t be here. I’m recovering from a bad cold this week, even though the fever broke, I’m still not feeling well, aggravated by having to get up early, and whenever I have to get up early, I end up not sleeping well the night before, thus effectively putting me at only a few hours of sleep.

But I can’t help it. I’m curious. I’m at my first “FAT ASS” marathon. Although it’s being put on by the ‘RUT’ (Running Fit Ultra-Running Team), as I understand it, this is a growing nation phenomenon, in which someone with a little bit of time on their hands, enough to make some flyers and make a FaceBook group page anyways, invites anyone that wants to come out and run an unofficial race. For free. Yep, let me repeat that: For free.

And, a bunch of local runners have come out to do just that. We’re in the Island Lake Recreation Area, near Brighton, Michigan, so there are lot’s o’ folks from here and Ann Arbor, plus some from the outer Detroit burbs, and even a couple of us from wee ole Jackson, an hour away. We’re gathering in the parking lot of the trailhead, or a trailhead. Running Fit, the local running store chain, has actually donated their van, and some logistical items like flagging and a sign up/in sheet. The organizers seem to be upper management, or at least managers, from the local stores. Running Fit hosts a ton of ‘real’ races during the warmer months around here, so it’s very cool of these folks to donate their time to doing this. I suppose Running Fit gets some free promotion, but really I think it’s because they, and the RUTsters, just love running, and love getting runners together.

And, I’m seeing some familiar faces. There’s Mark, a fellow teacher at JCC, and all around crazyassfast distance runner. And there’s Sweet Melissa, my running partner from the Woodstock 50M, back from her finish at the Javelina Jundred down in Arizona. And here’s Jocelyn, another member of the Barefoot Running Society, who I keep bumping into (and sometimes just missing) at various and sundry races.

Those folks, plus others, faces, that I recognize from other events in the last two years. Many people seem to know each other really well, from the weekly RUT runs, but even they are saying that there’s a lot more people here than normal. Word is out I guess.

This does feel race-ish. The nervous chatter. The insider jokes. The war-stories and semi-bragging of when everyone’s next ‘real’ race is. I put my name on the big sign in sheet, where there’s a space for my distance and time when I get done, so they at least might have an idea if someone is out lost and wandering in the woods. Everyone (except, like, me) has brought food or something to drink, and it’s all mostly junk food, though some fruit.

One of the organizers explains the route is a combo of the two biggest trail loops in the rec area: the longer ‘blue’, which is I think around 8 miles, combined with the yellow, which is around 5 miles, which then hooks back up to the blue for a little bit at the end, making for a big loop of 13.4 miles (at least, according to on RUTster I spoke with). So, people can opt to run one or two loops, with the option to run the yellow loop again to make it 50Kish. It sounds and looks complicated on the map. I’m sure I’ll get lost. I’m sure I’ll be running by myself and be in my zen zone and completely miss a turn-off, but Mark assures me that it’s super easy. As for how long I’ll go, the way I’m feeling, I’m not sure if I’ll be up for more than a half-marathon today, though on the other hand, knowing my stubborn self, who knows.

By the way, it’s cold! Below freezing now, though supposedly going to be sunny and in the high 30s by the end of the day. I’m wearing a wicking shirt, an Ibex wook shirt, and my Bigfoot 50K warm up long sleeve, plus gloves and a knit hat. I have on my regular running shorts, some running pants over them, and then my warm-up ‘shell’ pants, which I was going to take off for the race, but Sweet Melissa and I both decide to keep that extra layer on.

My big new thing is my pair of Merrell ‘Glove’ minimalist shoes, which I’ve bought basically for this very purpose: cold weather. I’m a barefoot guy mostly, and even ran barefoot all one winter, but only in short spurts. Now that I’m more used to longer running, I just want to stay warm, and keep the snow and slush off a little.. The VFFs don’t cut it, at all, and in some ways seem to make my feet colder than when I’m barefoot. So far, my feet have been ok, wandering around, but the toes are starting to get a little cold. I hope we start running soon!

We all gather for a group photo. I’m bad at judging crowds, but it seems like there’s 40 of us? Maybe? Being with a bunch of other crazy people that would run a race in the cold feels great.

Then, people start running. Jocelyn and I look at each other. I ask, “Is that the start of the race, or are people running to the start line?”

“I’m not sure!”

Finally we just figure out that the ‘race’ has indeed begun. Ok, fine, I wanted to start out slow. I just don’t want to get all hot and sweaty right at the beginning. So, I jump in behind someone and we’re off down a trail.

Seems many people have the same idea as I, except for like Mark who I know took off sprinting. It’s actually kind of funny, I’ve never seen a ‘bottleneck’ this long, with about ten people in front of me and 20 behind, all of us in one long line. It actually reminds me though of why I like these races, because they’re less a competition than some kind of primal reenactment of a tribal hunt. Here we are all, the tribe, lined out and ready to isolate and run down an antelope.

There’s about an inch of snow on the ground and in the trees, which is nice. The trail is either packed down snow and ice, or sometimes melted off to reveal dirt. We’re certainly not in the wilderness, zigging and zagging over one road already, and then skirting another parking lot, but it’s quiet. Our pace is slow, enough to get me warmed up. I feel ok. I actually feel like my body is responding to running. Like, my cold felt worse just sitting around the house. Now that I’m outside with fresh air on my face, exerting myself, I’m feeling good.

So good that when the trail eventually widens into a two-track that I break out and pass the folks ahead of me. I’m not the only one: the whole long line dissolves as people find their pace. I end up with three others. We pass yet another parking area and zip out onto a road. And, get passed by one of the organizers, who must be getting a quickie in, since he’s going fast. I bet that one, he’s some kind of superfast ultra god, and two, he’s just going to run a half-marathon real quick and be there waiting for the majority of us back at the start. He smiles at us as he goes by. “Well, no one’s got lost yet! That’s good!”

The trail takes us over what I think is the Huron River, through some forest, over some fields, “where the winds hit heavy” and back into forest. It’s nice. I’m still feeling good. I like knowing that even if I’m feeling kinda crappy that I can still run at least a half-marathon, almost literally in my sleep! And my new minimalist shoes are working perfectly, keeping me warm and dry. Wouldn’t want to run on pavement with them, since I have absolutely no sensation down there, and am therefore striking harder than I would, but on a trail that’s ok. Or, at least not that bad. I’m still trying to run in good barefoot form: bent knees, lifting the feet, and relaxing my upper torso. It’s just amazing how tense I get, and amazing how much better/faster I run when I simply take a deep breath and exhale, letting my shoulders drop.

As aid stations, the organizers have left some big water jugs sitting on chairs as a couple places, but so far my water bottle has been enough. I should probably be drinking more, but when the air is cold like this, I hardly feel like I’m sweating at all.

And lo! There’s the turn off onto the yellow loop. I didn’t miss it! Yay! This section is a wee bit more hilly, but nothing too bad. It’s Michigan, it can’t ever be that hilly. More forest, river(s) (ie maybe the same one), and small lakes. Mostly low-lying swamp, with ‘sandhills’. And, the sun is out, for sure, reflecting brightly off the snow. An actually really good day for a run.

Through a parking lot filled with dudes and their mountain bikes. Not a woman to be seen. Biking has always seemed like a dude sport to me, because guys just seem to get into toys, like leaf blowers and chainsaws. They like have some machine that makes them feel manly. I just can’t get into it. I have two bikes actually, which I use to bike to work, and was a bike messenger at one time, but road biking just seems like an never-ending money trap. I mean, you can buy rims for $2000! Just rims!

And back on to the blue loop for not more than a mile before popping out back at the start, where other runners are gathered under the nearby pavilion, eating and drinking. I stop in for a banana and some orange slices, resisting the junk food until at least after I’m done. There is some homemade chicken soup though, so I break my vow of vegetarianism and partake. Thank you Chicken! I take you into me, so that you become a part of me, and I of you. We are one. I am Chicken Man.

Invigorated, I go to my truck to change clothes. Because yes, I’m going to do a second loop. I feel good. My three top layers are all soaked though, which throws a small wrench in my plans. I was sort of planning on using the top two layers and just changing out the shirt, but no. Hm. Well, I guess I’ll wear the second shirt, plus the hoodie I was just going to where after. It’s certainly warm enough, but it’s cotton, and if it gets really wet, will one, not hold heat, and two, be really annoying to run in. But it’s all I got.

After another cup of Mr. Chicken, energized now with Chicken Power, I head off for round two. Bwock bwock!

And I’m alone. I’m thinking a lot of folks just ran the half. Or are going to. I think I’m about half-way in the pack. I feel a hell of a lot more alone, and now I start having thoughts like, Crap, what if I’m one of the only slow people to do the second loop? Then they’ll be waiting on me.

But, wait, there’s someone coming up behind me. I remember seeing her in the parking lot. We exchange pleasantries, I tell her I’m glad I’m not the only one out here, and then she scoots on by, leaving me alone again.

The fields are a bit more windy this time around, creating a windchill factor, but once back in the trees, with the sun getting higher, the air is getting warmer, and the snow is melting a bit. A guy catches up to me and we run together for a while. He’s not sure he can do the whole loop again, having run 30 miles on his own recently, and with a ‘real’ race to do next weekend. He tells me about the short cut: that instead of taking the yellow loop, if one stays right on the blue, it’s only less than a mile back to the start.

“Man, I wish you hadn’t told me that! Now it’s going to be very tempting!”

We laugh, and despite his reservations, he’s on a faster pace than I am and takes off.

There are some more people out here though, because here comes two more. They run a little behind me for a while, so I can hear their convo, and the guy is telling the woman that he’s going to speed up a little. They say goodbye, he passes me with a hello, and is gone. Gotta admire all these people who can pick up the pace on the second loop, but anyways, the woman and I start talking. Her name is Hong, I remember her from the pavilion. She too is not sure about doing the whole loop the second time around, but seems ok with running my pace, which helps pass the time and in fact probably keeps me from bogging out. She’s one of the RUT people and has some ultras planned for winter and spring. We exchange histories and race info and I talk her into doing the yellow loop portion.

Another woman catches up to us, Melissa I think her name is, and she and Hong are friends. They’re going to a race somewhere soon together, along with a bunch of other women RUTsters. After handing with us for a while, she feels the energy and scoots on ahead. Again, admirable.

She seems to get Hong worked up, as she picks up the pace just a little bit. And...then I start to lose it. I friggin know that since we’re on the yellow loop that we can’t have more than a few miles at the most to go, yet, I just start to bog down. My stomach feels weird, like an alien chestburster might be lurking there, and the water I filled up on tastes weird and...I simply may not be in the shape I need to be. I’m trudging. Not walking, but not running too fast either.

Finally the parking lot with all the mountain biker dudes, though they’re all mostly gone now. Less than a mile! I still can’t pick it up though. Crazy.

But, then, finally, there’s the pavilion! I made it! Check my time: 5:33. Ok, I’ll take it! That’s about my normal time for a trail marathon, and this was actually a little longer.

Hong and her friends are there and I have to admit that it’s nice to have people know your name. The Cheers effect I guess. Now the eating of the food begins. Plus, why not, a Coke. Tastes friggin great. And the last slice of pumpkin pie!

I check the sign in sheet. Man, there was 91 people! Some of them must have started late. And I think the majority of folks ran just the half-marathon. Mark ran the 50K and in fact finished like 25 minutes before me. And actually, Hong finished in 5:03. Man, if I could have just stayed with her! But that means I lost most of my time in those last 3 miles, when she took off.

Most people have come and gone, most of the parking lot is empty. The organizer dudes are staying until 4pm (It’s like 1:30), but while I’m there, three guys come in and go back out for the shorter yellow loop to get their 50Ks in. So, I wasn’t even last!

But, I’m done. I’m fine with a marathon. Now that I’m starting to cool down, I’m beginning to cough a little. Interesting: I’ve been fine all this time. But, this may explain my bog down right at the end. I best be getting changed out of these clothes. Merrells did good though. Some blisters on the heels, but they’re still new.

I big adieu to everyone and the organizer shakes my hand and thanks me for coming out. How friggin cool is that? These guys rock! There’s another FAT ASS scheduled for New Year’s day up around here. I’m totally in. To run, free, with a bunch of other people who love running as much as I do. I hope this FAT ASS idea spread more.

And, now, I’m going to head on into Ann Arbor and hang out for the day. Hopefully there’s a good movie playing, as that’s about all I have the energy for. Sign me up for a nice hot green tea....

www.johnyohe.com

[photo courtesy of Mark McCaslin]