50 km (or or less) single track trail with “some” mud—cold, wet, windy.
It was wet, it was cold, it was muddy, it was fun. The VHTRC’s annual Fat Ass run was held on December 14. Despite the crappy weather, 87 people stood on the starting line. (Ok, there really isn’t a starting “line,” but you know what I mean.) As the happy crew ran down to the river and started on the Bull Run Trail, it suddenly met reality in the form of a trail under two feet of water. As runners were being signed up for the class action law suit against Joe for this outrage, the field found a way around the water. The rest of the trail was above water, more or less.
There were certainly some disappointments this year. Jose, again, manned the Do Loop aid station, but there was no mischief reported in the Do Loop. Additionally, several contributors to SONRAP complained that there was no visible evidence that their major contributions to refurbishing the Nash Rambler had been well spent. Unfortunately, they were ignoring the significant administrative expenses that SONRAP staff are required to make. The management retreat was a significant drain on expenses.
As usual, Gary Knipling performed his selfless role of guide to woman runners. Several women, who didn’t know any better, were seen running with him. It was Gary, however, who noted that ever since John Dodds wrote that piece about woman trail runners, you always see lots of women around him. Is there a lesson here?
It is impossible to do an event this big justice. There were so many stories, so many lies, so much cheating, so many Pennsylvanians.
A big THANKS to Joe Clapper for all the work he does on this event. Putting on this event is not as complicated as BRR, but everything that has to be done is done, or arranged by Joe. His only screw up this year was to order enough pizza to feed the finishers at the Marine Corps Marathon. Joe, you are supposed to buy too much beer, not pizza!
Computer generated results with splits and age group standings appear below. Also, there really is a Santa Claus. What do you expect for your money or for your crappy handwriting?