Run Like a Fat Ass

By Tracey Cohen

PINCKNEY (12/27/08) -- “No fees, no awards. no aid, no wimps” was motto of the 14th annual Fat Ass 50 run on the Potawatomi Trail at Pinckney Recreation Area.

In fall 1978 Joe Oakes needed a 50-mile qualifying time to enter the Western States 100-mile race. Unfortunately, the only 50-mile race in the area was a seven-person relay whose officials would not let him enter as an individual.

Oakes entered the race using seven different versions of his name, completed the venture and later, during the holidays when most people seemed to be eating more than racing, joined friends organizing a modest “race” of their own.

So the Fat Ass was born. Such events now take place all around the world.

“There is so much greed and money in sports these days,” Oakes lamented. “There is not a nickel involved in any of these events. You just show up and run.” What a novel concept.

I am not criticizing. Race directors work long and hard to assemble top-notch events with great hardware, which I enjoy year in and year out.

But too often we become so caught up with our heart-rate monitors, GPS systems and other high-tech gear that the spirit of running gets lost.

Fat Ass events do not require nor even allow pre-registration, let alone a lottery. There are no certified courses, time clocks, t-shirts or medals, and sometimes there isn’t even a predetermined route.

Show up at the designated start time and you will be rewarded with the company of like-minded runners. You may or may not receive a map.

Be sure to bring any sustenance needed to fuel yourself before, during and after your run as there are no aid stations, post-race munchies and there may not be any folks at the finish.

Many runners do though bring a stash to enjoy while bantering and/or commiserating with others as they finish, and often a post-race time and meeting place is predetermined.

Former Michigan resident Bill Hill, who has since abandoned us for the sunny skies of Arizona, helped launch the Fat Ass 50. Inspired by the UltraRunning magazine, Hill thought it would be fun to have a Fat Ass in southeast Michigan, thus the Pinckney event was born.

Upon my arrival on the scene, I was greeted by several hearty souls looking to run off holiday treats and challenge nature.

Fat Ass veterans had maps they shared with us “virgins” and encouraged us to stick with someone who knew the trail should we be completely ignorant.

“Ready, set, go!” was chimed and off we clambered into the woods on the mess that masked trails after recent snowfalls.

Conditions were sloppy at best and more often treacherous. Those of us wearing Yak Trax and Get-A-Grips had no better traction than anyone, it turned out.

We were treated to cold, rain, fog, sun and temperatures nearing the 60s later in the day.

After roughly 3 hours, 45 minutes, a few others joined me deciding that one weenie loop of our beloved Poto trail was enough. It turned out we were not alone. Reported results included anywhere from five to 36 miles completed. To my knowledge, no one this year actually ran 50 miles.

We shared lots of laughs and saw beautiful sights. Who knew that stunning white swans took baths in park rivers during the middle of a frosty winter? Or that red berries graced snow-covered trees for gray squirrels’ dining pleasure?

Mandi Tuite of South Lyon felt like she was in a mirage and confessed that her run was humbling. Used to being a speedster, she was forced to learn the perspective of an 11-minute-per-mile pace.

In exchange for speed, Tuite enjoyed sharing experiences with her new trail friends.

Organizer Tim Looney downplayed his efforts. “I don’t put a lot of work into it and people are crazy enough to show up,” he said.

For more information on next year’s southeast Michigan’s Fat Ass 50, visit http://www.timlooney.blogspot.com.