Everyone Loves a Fat Ass

Here is an article I wrote that appeared in the Second Wind Running Club newsletter about the Fat Ass run in McNabb, Illinois, on January 10, 2010. (Photos by John Steele)

On January 10, in subzero temperatures, three Second Winders and I joined 70 others to run the McNabb Fat Ass 50K on a middle-of-nowhere course nestled in the cornfields about an hour north of Bloomington. A Fat Ass in general, and this race in particular, epitomizes the spirit of running for its own sake in the company of other like-minded souls. That the scenery was beautiful, the people were cheerful and supportive, and the aid stations excellent was icing on the cake. On snowy roads, the race certainly lived up to its motto: “Many are cold, but few are frozen.”

What is a Fat Ass, you may ask? A Fat Ass is a no-frills, long-distance, fun run, traditionally held after the winter holidays—the idea being to work off holiday gluttony. Its universal slogan is “No Fees, No Awards, No Aid, No Wimps,” its original logo is a pink pig, and about the only thing guaranteed is the existence of a course to run.

The first Fat Ass was held in 1979 when Joe Oaks started the Recover from the Holidays Fat Ass 50, an informal 50-miler for low-maintenance runners along the shoulder of Highway 1 in northern California. Word spread, and Fat Asses began to sprout up all over the world. There are now at least 40, including a couple in our own backyard: The Riddle Run and the Kennekuk Fat Ass.

The McNabb course is on scenic country back roads, much of it alongside a creek. There are fields, woods, and rolling hills, and an up-close-and-personal herd of cows. The run starts with a one-mile warm-up followed by a five-mile out-and-back that you repeat, for 11, 21, or the full 31 miles. The narrow road is paved but primarily run on packed snow. Most participants were ultrarunners from the Midwest, many of them repeaters. Home base was a junior high school, where we could take hot showers in the locker rooms and enjoy free pizza in the gym afterwards. There were well-stocked aid stations at the start, halfway point, and turnaround, where volunteers did an amazing job keeping the water and Gatorade from freezing. How fun it was to munch fresh cantaloupe in the snow!

Running in cold weather presents a clothing puzzle. Layers are key, and people wore lots of them. Because so many faces were covered, the pizza party was a series of revelations. I ran in warm-up pants with wicking long-underwear underneath, a wind-proof shell over a light fleece top, topped with a neck gaiter, headband and hat, bottomed with Smartwool socks and trail shoes, and wool mittens. Signing in at the start, my fingers were so frozen I could barely write. Recording my finishing time with mittens off (4 hours later after 21 miles) the weather felt downright balmy. Cold undoubtedly stressed the body, but I did not feel the discomfort of cold during the entire run once I finished the aptly named warm-up mile.

Utrarunner Bob Rehn has been Race Director (RD) of the McNabb Fat Ass for 14 years. What prompted him start the Illinois Version Recover from the Holidays Fat Ass 50 (McNabb’s official name) was an article about Fat Asses in UltraRunner magazine. What has kept him going is seeing people return year after year—people like Bill Dey, who has run McNabb for the past six years. Bill does not normally run long distances on roads, but he makes an exception for McNabb. “It seems okay because of the very rural setting,” he explained. “I enjoy the fact it is an out and back course, and you see every other runner no matter how fast or slow they are, five or six times on the course. I’ve run other ultramarathons where I might go an hour or more without seeing another runner. This event is much more social.”

“The thing about the Fat Ass,” said Bob, “ is there’s no pressure. It’s not a race unless you want it to be. You get to run long with other tough-minded runners, on what I think is a beautiful course, and completing it gives you a great sense of satisfaction and accomplishment. I'm just happy to be a part of a run, where on a cold January day, people will drive miles to run 31 miles out in the middle of nowhere and have a smile on their face the whole way,” he said. One of those smiling was Fat Ass newbie Andrea Stack.

Andrea decided run McNabb because others were and she had never run in that part of the state. “I thought it was really great how all of the runners cheered all of the other runners on when running,” she said. “It was so much fun and encouraging. It made you feel like you could run farther than what would otherwise be possible. I would never run that far all by myself!” The 21 miles she ran was her longest to date. Lindsey Spangler concurred. “It sounded like fun,” she said. “Something different, plus I like to meet new people.” It helped all of us to have someone reach out and ask us to come along. This makes a strong case for being in a running club. Sometimes just a little nudge is all it takes.

Closer to home, the Kennekuk Road Runners has its own Fat Ass, and our local Fat Ass, called the Riddle Run.

The Riddle Run, held at the Buffalo Trace course at Lake of the Woods in Mahomet, often coincides with the coldest part of the year. Last time a record 125 ran the four-mile loops of trail on a chilly day made challenging by a layer of snow that refused to pack down. The “winners” (of the complete 28 mile ultra distance) got travelling trophies: a stuffed Buffalo (female) and roll of toilet paper (male). If you don’t finish the 28 miles, you are a DNF, and whining results in a DQ.

The origin of the Riddle Run is typical of Fat Asses. RD Jeff Riddle heard about the concept, liked it, and kicked off the First Annual Mahomet Trail 12-mile Run and Advanced 28-mile Fun Run in 1982. Jeff wanted his run to be about and for people who loved to run, regardless of their natural ability, so he chose this quote from G.K. Chesterton as the race’s motto: “A man must love a thing very much if he not only practices it without any hope of fame and money, but even practices it without any hope of doing it well.” After several years, the race became simply known as the Riddle Run.

In that first year, five of 12 finished the 12 miles, and only one finished the full 28, in trying conditions replete with deep snowdrifts deposited by a blizzard. That morning, Jeff grabbed some leftover cupcakes his wife Debbie had baked to bring with him, which began a tradition that continues to this day: every finisher of the Riddle Run receives a homemade cupcake. The first 28-mile winner was none other than Jeff. “I just kept walking in the snow,” he recalled, “so I won my own race. No one was at the finish, and I never expected anyone to be.” All runs have their moments, and a classic Riddle Run moment occurred in 2006 when Mark Daley arranged to have a local radio station play the national anthem for the start. During the song, a flock of geese performed a perfect flyover, on cue, airplane-style!

Like Jeff, Kennekuk Fat Ass RD Marc Reddy learned about the proliferation of Fat Asses and wanted to create a race to appeal to runners of all levels, so he morphed the Weekend-Before-Fat-Tuesday Run and Party into a Fat Ass run. Offered were four distances, in increments of 7.1-mile loops around Lake Mingo, ranging from the Fat Ass (four loops) to the Large (three), Average (two), and Small (one) Asses. Last year, the Baby Ass was introduced on the 3.29-mile Howl course. “We make sure to tell everyone this is not a race and sometimes make fun of some who try to race the Asses,” he said. “It is a day of fun, friendship, eating and maybe a few brewskis. What is memorable about KRR’s Fat Ass is many of the participants party while they run or walk. We have special pig prizes, music, Deb’s famous Hot Italian Sausage, plus everyone brings food to share.” Deb, Marc’s wife, is RD this year.

Ultimately, it’s the people are who make a great Fat Ass. It’s a fun, no-pressure way to run a chosen distance, whether it’s your first ultra or something shorter. So when the temperatures plummet, run a Fat Ass—you won’t regret it. At the very least, you’ll work off some of the holiday tonnage and make some new friends.