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)

Running Twice A Day

I first started running twice a day as part of my training for the Burning River 100 Mile Endurance Run last summer. Before, after a long exhausting run, I would never have considered even walking very far on the same day. In fact, until I started running barefoot, I would always take a day off after my weekly one long run. But running barefoot allowed my body to recover faster, and actually puts less wear and tear on my legs in general, so I could easily, and gladly, run every day.

And for Burning River, I simply had to run more—a lot—like, lots o' hours and miles a week in order to get anywhere close to what I'd be doing in that race. At the beginning of the summer I was doing long runs every other day, and on the odd days, doing a shorter run of an hour (or two), allowed me some recovery time, enough to have energy for the rest of the day. So, with that energy there, I decided to go out for short mellow runs at night. And, that was possible, and in fact not unpleasant at all.

So, I started to do a nightly run, no matter how far I'd gone in the morning. Sometimes it was funny, a little absurd almost, to trudge out at nine o'clock, my legs sore sore, but curiously having energy, so I had discovered that soreness and tiredness are two different animals. And, once I started trudging, the legs would loosen up, and some of the soreness would go away. Just to experiment, for the sheer audacity of it, I even tried doing a short run the night that I had run a marathon. I went slow (that was the only way I could go), but I went.

The second run also helped if I just couldn't run very long in the morning, because of work or travel or whatever. So, If I could only run a half-hour, or hour, in the morning, adding on a half hour at night made me feel better about keeping up some sort of decent schedule for the Big Race. I actually started to boost the length of my night runs because they just felt good.

The only sacrifice I really made in adding night runs was cutting into my reading time. I usually like to read an hour or more before going to sleep, but it was a sacrifice I was willing to make, and as a teacher, I had the summer off, mercifully, so I read enough during the day. I don't own a t.v. (again, mercifully) and I can't imagine not watching one as any kind of sacrifice. I was also living in a town where I didn't know a lot of people, was single, and didn't have too much of a social life. How any endurance runner can be married, much less have a family, I'm still not sure.

I did and do not run barefoot at night. Even though I'm mostly running in semi-lit areas, I just do not want to risk stepping on a piece of glass, or just any pokey thing. Instead I usually wear my Luna huaraches by Barefoot Ted and crew, even in Winter. I'll put on a pair of Injinji socks to keep the feets warm. If it's wet and/or slushy, I'll maybe wear my VFFs.

I actually grew really fond of my night runs. I know some people run at night normally, but I prefer to do my runs first thing in the morning, to start my day active, but running at night, especially since I treated them as 'treats,' with no desire to push myself time or effort-wise, just a light trot, are peaceful. It's dark (in the city, I don't feel the need to wear a headlamp—hate those things anyways) and quiet, little traffic, few people period. Cool air. Very solitary and contemplative. Looking into houses, seeing people sitting in front of the idiot boxes, eating Doritos and watching Dancing With The Stars, I admit to a feeling of healthy smugness, though feeling bad too that that's what people consider 'normal' now, and wishing they would just get out and walk at least.

Even now, after the race (months after really), I still enjoy a second run in the evening. Not all the time this Winter, since I am after all Michigan, and hate the cold, but though running raises my heart rate and gets my blood pumping, it doesn't keep me up at night, and in fact relaxes me, de-stresses me, helps me sleep better.

As the next summer approaches, and Michigan warms up, I'm not sure if I'll be able to train for another 100 miler or not. It's a lot of work and time, and I'll be moving, changing jobs. But with warmer weather, a second run in the day is now almost part of my regular routine, to the point where I consider it almost a ritual.

Merrell Trail Gloves: A Review

My intention in buying the Merrell Trail Gloves was very specific: to keep my feet warm in the Winter months here in Michigan. In warm weather, I much prefer running barefoot, and if for any reason I use footwear, I've been happy with Barefoot Ted's Luna huaraches, a sandal that just covers the bottoms of my feet and leave the rest open to the air. And if I need any more protection than that (say, for the ultramarathons I ran) I used my Vibram Five Fingers (VFFs).

My first year as a barefoot runner I even went 'hardcore' and ran barefoot all Winter, though that was only possible because I lived in Ann Arbor, which keeps its sidewalks very clear (something to do with a student suing the university for missing a class due to a snow day is what I heard), and the Winter was, if not mild, then not extreme either.

The following Winter (last year) I had moved to Jackson, which is not very good about clearing it's sidewalks or bike trails at all. Plus, that Winter was on the extreme side, with a good two feet of snow on the ground most of the time. The huaraches were out of the question, and so were the VFFs: the KSOs do not hold heat at all, with the separate two 'sockets' actually preventing the toes from gathering together and keeping each other warm. (I have not tried the Vibram Flows). Adding the Injinji socks allowed me to go out in plus 32 degree weather for short spurts.

My favorite footwear from that Winter was my Minnetonka moccasins. The leather holds heat really well. The problem is that they get wet, and the soft leather bottom wears out quickly with anything other than walking. I know making them with a hard leather bottom would be possible, and as a side note here, if Minnetonka did that, they'd have the ultimate minimalist running shoe!

But this is about the Merrells. I chose them, out of the myriads of minimalist shoes out there, for a few reasons, the main one being that they sponsored the Naked Foot 5K run over in Grand Rapids that I ran in (please see my earlier post on this) and I was impressed with the company's seeming desire to educate people about actual real barefoot running, and how minimalist running can compliment it. They're also a local Michigan company, and they were convenient, being the only other minimalist footwear available in downtown Ann Arbor (at Bivouac on State Street). The one thing I really dislike is that they call the various types of shoes “Barefoot,” as in “Barefoot Run Trail Glove.” I disagree with using the word 'barefoot' with any kind of shoe (I prefer 'minimalist') so for this review I will just call them Trail Gloves.


Merrell Trail Gloves definitely look shoe-like, and probably most people wouldn't even be able to tell they were minimalist, but on closer inspection, the soles are significantly thinner, no cushion at all, with absolutely no raised heel. The sole is Vibram design: that is, Merrell is using the sort of the same material as for the VFFs, but although the shoes can be folded over, and feet can be moved fairly freely inside, the Trail Gloves are thicker than the VFFs, by design, with a somewhat sturdier (I don't want to say 'harder' though I guess it is) middle section which, depending on your needs may or may not be a good thing. The thicker soles 'protect' feet better than the VFFs from the small pokey things on trails.


The downside of that is of course that sensitivity is significantly decreased, so that I find myself striking harder when I run. This is especially true on pavement (sidewalks and bike trails) where, after runs, my legs, muscles and joints, just feel hammered and sore. I definitely run differently in Trail Gloves, even when I'm really trying to run in proper 'lifting feet' mode, and I know I'm running differently because different muscles get sore. Whereas when I first started running barefoot my lower calves got sore, now I find my shins do, and again, my joints get particularly sore: knees and ankles.


Once I started running in the Trail Gloves, I found myself going back to how I ran in 'regular' (ie evil) running shoes: avoiding pavement whenever possible, running in the dirt or grass next to roads, and tending towards trail runs. I will now never run on pavement with Trail Gloves, my legs just hurt to much afterwards.

That said, the Trail Gloves did fulfill my original intent: to keep my feet warm during cold snowy trail runs. My first real test was only two weeks after buying them, when I ran a Fat Ass Marathon in Brighton (again, please see my earlier post about this). The course was fairly level, but with a layer of packed snow over dirt. The temperature was below freezing to start off but by late morning was maybe upper thirties, so that there was some mud. I wore only the Merrells, no socks, and felt a little coldness on the toes waiting around before the race, but once I started running, my feet were fine. So, mission accomplished, though again, I knew I was running with a longer gait, striking harder than I would even in VFFs, but on the dirt/snow trail the 'wear' on my legs wasn't as great.

Trail Gloves 'feel' light, weight-wise, and thin. In fact, they look a lot like climbing shoes, which I'm sure the designers borrowed from. The difference is that, unlike with climbing shoes, or even 'regular' running shoes, the 'toe box' area is spacious, with plenty of wiggle room for the toes. In fact, the design of the shoes is such that the shoes are held tight on the sides, through the lacing system, allowing the toes to spread out as much as they want. The lacing system is hard to describe, but well designed, maybe even a little too well designed, since pulling the shoes tight (like, really tight) around the feet is really easy, again, sort of like climbing shoes. I think that Merrell thinks this is a good thing, and maybe for some runners it is, but I found the tightness around my arch uncomfortable, and after a few weeks use I ended up keeping the laces really really loose, enough only to keep the shoes on my feet, which is more of how my moccasins feel.

Here in Michigan, we've had an almost balmy Winter, with hardly no snow, and temps in the 40s, so that I've actually been out barefoot running in February! I've still be using the Merrells for trail runs, more out of curiosity than need, since with those temps I could be in VFFs, or even huaraches, and I've even gone for night runs, when temps dip down below freezing, in huaraches with Injinji socks on and have felt fine (keep in mind that I hate the cold and bundle up the rest of my body). When we have had snow, say one to three inches, the Merrells are perfect for trail running, keeping the snow off my feet, and they tend to dry overnight.

But, I really do not like the lack of sensitivity. After running barefoot so long, I can't really 'go back' to wearing what are basically shoes. For colder climates, I would recommend Merrell Trail Gloves during the Winter months, for trail running only. If I lived in southern or western climes, I would say they are just not necessary for barefoot runners, which I think are most of my readers. For those that are mainly minimalist runners, and are comfortable running in VFFs (say, even on pavement) the Trail Gloves would offer you a little more protection on trails, and the one time I could imagine wearing them during warm weather might be during that later stages of ultra runs, when I'm brain-foggy and running sloppy anyways.

For those who might be transitioning from 'regular' running shoes, Trail Gloves might offer the basic shoe feel while giving a bit more sensitivity, though really I would urge readers to just go all the way to barefoot, with maybe huaraches for minimal protection. The more minimal you go, the less protection you will want, and in any case I would NOT recommend running on pavement in Trail Gloves, especially if you are not familiar with proper barefoot running technique. Do NOT run by heel striking in these or any minimalist shoes.

More interestingly, Merrell makes a form of the Trail Gloves that is a dress shoe, the Barefoot Life Tough Gloves, with black leather, though with laces and the same bottoms, kind of LL Bean chic, which would be great for the barefooter who wants no support or cushion, but needs a dress shoe for work or interviews. I plan to acquire a pair of these, because the Trail Gloves are comfortable to walk around in.

Approximate cost: $110

Shit Barefoot Runners say

I have a review of Merrell Trail Gloves in the works, waiting on photos. In the meantime, if you haven't seen it, check out this video:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NPdb7ZDJKS4

Stay tuned!

Me interviewed by Caity McCardell of Run Barefoot Girl

Here's an podcast interview that Caity McCardell from Run Barefoot Girl did. I haven't heard it yet. I hope she edited it so I sound intelligent!

http://runbarefootgirl.com/2012/01/rbg-30-john-yohe-kicks-plantar-fasciitis-ass/

A reply to Jason

[Note: This is a reply to a post by Jason Robillard on his blog. You will probably want to read his post first, here. Please feel free to comment here, or on Jason's blog, or on the BRS website.]

Jason,

I’d like to respond back to your post, because I think I disagree with your approach, though I want to say up front that I respect you as a runner and an advocate for barefoot running.

What bothers me is that I think you are constructing what is called a ‘straw man’ argument, which means that your main ‘point’ is something no one would really disagree with: That we barefoot runners shouldn’t be assholes to people. I don’t think anyone on the BRS would disagree with that statement, nor do I think any barefoot runner would identify herself as “fanatical” or rude, or overly zealous. That is, nobody really thinks they’re being as rude as what these shod runners seem to have claimed to you.

What bothers me about proposing that we shouldn’t be assholes/fanatical/rude is that there’s an assumption that we are assholes/fanatical/rude, both by you, and by the shod runners you talked to in this race. I’m curious why/how you took these people at face value. That is, I’m genuinely curious about what they said about what they supposedly rude barefooters said to them. I only say this because it has been my experience, and others on this site, and you (like when you ran Burning River-you mention some guy in your write up about that being really rude to you) that shod runners can be really rude and/or at least inconsiderate, and that the number of rude shod runners vastly outnumbers barefoot runners period, much less whatever supposedly rude people exist in our tribe.

For example, in many races I’ve run, I’ve had people literally talk behind my back, thinking (maybe? but maybe conscious of it?) that I can’t hear them if they’re ten feet behind me. Or the guy who ran up next to me in a 10K and said, “Are you born to run?” And laughed. I don’t know, I just didn’t find that funny.

I could go on. In fact, one last example: People that start a ‘conversation’ with something like, “So I’ve heard about this barefoot fad...” Implying by the use of “fad” that they already kind of think it’s a silly idea. Perhaps that’s a teachable moment. Perhaps, in ideal conditions, I would be willing to engage with someone like that, but to top it off, their timing is not necessarily good: Many times I’m on the tail end of a marathon, or trying to run really fast in a 10K, when comments happen, when I really have better things to worry about.

I’m wondering if these runners you talked to in the race perhaps approached barefoot runners in a non-tactful manner and/or if they were a little distracted.

I actually do admit, when someone is a rude to me, it’s hard not to give a little ‘dig’ back. I would never be rude or ignore someone who came to me with genuine curiousity and politely initiated a conversation (assuming I wasn’t on Mile 40 or a 50 Miler or something). The worst I ever get is when I feel someone is being a little smartass-y and passes me saying, “How’s your feet?” My reply is something like, “Fine. How are yours?” Because I feel that it seems pretty obvious that my feet are ok, otherwise I’d stop running.

Now if someone wants to argue that saying “How’s your feet?” is actually friendly, well, it just never seems that way. Maybe I’m a little defensive, but it’s hard not to be when people say some fairly hurtful things about me. I can handle someone saying, “That dude’s crazy!” and take it as a sign of respect, but if someone says, “I don’t know why anyone would do that” instead of maybe asking me why I do it, well then, I’m feeling judged. I would just like to be treated with respect.

I also have an issue with the diagram you use to demonstrate how an idea is accepted by the “majority.” That is, it sounds interesting, and may be true, but I’m not sure it’s absolutely true. What the source for this “diffusion of technology” chart? Is it really accepted by experts in the field? Or is it something you came up with?

I’m actually even willing to believe it’s in part true, but I think there are a lot more factors than just how people talk about an idea, as to whether it becomes popular. Another big example I can think of is marketing by corporations. Remember that in Born to Run Christopher McDougall proves fairly conclusively that Nike manufactured a demand for ‘running’ shoes.

I return to the idea that I started on: that I feel you are implying that we barefoot runners are either the problem, or else somehow morally obligated to act in a certain way. I don’t think anyone is going out of their way to be rude to shod runners. I don’t see us barefoot runners as doing anything wrong. My experience has actually been that going barefoot kind of angers and confuses some people, and as a side note I think that has something to with people’s core beliefs being challenged: If running without shoes is in fact ok, and even fun and healthy, then who knows what other beliefs people have might be true? They may have to start actually questioning. The horror.

Nor do I really care about the early or late majority’s opinion. I run barefoot because it feels good to me. I do think barefoot running is good for people. I would recommend it. But I’m not shouting it from the rooftops. Nor am I telling people they’re idiots for using Nike shoes.

Nor to I feel I need to modify my behavior in order to keep barefoot running alive. The best way to show/teach someone something is by being a model. If someone wants to (in a friendly manner) talk to me, excellent, but I’m not an extroverted personality like I suspect you may be (Which is good. You’re a good ambassador!). I like running because it’s a solitary activity, and is really a form of meditation for me.

I’m sorry if this comes off as very strong. Something in your post really resonated with me, and made me think about how I think about barefoot running, and for that I thank you. I would welcome any thoughts you have on what I've written.

Again, you are an awesome runner (shod or bare) and you’ve done more to introduce the idea of barefoot running than maybe anybody. I hope to run into you at some races this summer.

John
www.johnyohe.com
www.johnsbarefootrunningblog.blogspot.com

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]