Fat Man does Fat Tire

The fact that I am writing about something that happened about a month ago is probably indicative of how lazy I am capable of being. About a month ago, I did my second Chequamegon Fat Tire 40-mile mountain bike race.

Essentially, that I would have even considered doing this race again is probably reflective of the same emotional mechanisms that drive many of us to renew our commitment every New Year's Day with new year's resolutions that we soon abandon within 3-5 weeks. In 2006, I did the race and finished pretty much finished what seemed like 2nd to last. I actually finished 1,674th out of 1,703 racers with a time of 5:31:42. For over 5 and a half hours, I suffered through what can only be described as the stupidest thing I have ever done in my life. In all honesty, the first 20 miles weren't that bad. The fact that I had a grand total of one gel pack and a 10 year old out of style camelback full of a water (just water) led to a cataclysmic back 20 that involved a lot of cramping and cursing. For most of the race, I biked alone, since seemingly everyone was ahead of me. It was a lonely journey that in a book (well, movie, let's face it) would result in a soul searching triumph for the protagonist. Instead, I received charity cheers as I crossed the finish line over 3 hours after the winner (though of note was that I crossed the finish line with a beer in hand, handed to me by my friends who had finished several hours earlier).

2007 saw me start training with renewed vigor and a vow to bike at least twice a week (I biked a total of three times last year totaling about 20 miles) in preparation for the race. I was determined to ride twice a week and blow last year's time out of the water. These good intentions got me on my bike 4 times for a total of 80 miles. Unfortunately, the calculus of doing 4x the miles didn't translate into 4x improvement in my time. However, surprisingly, in 2007, I finished 1,723rd out of 1,742 racers with a time of: 5:25:20. So I basically improved by 6:20 (it's not magic, it's math). I know what you're thinking: "See fat Rich, those 4 rides paid off!" If you're thinking that, you're dumb. The real secret? 8 caramel flavored gel packs and my secret weapon: Pedialyte.

But the real appeal of the weekend is the true, Men's Outdoors magazine experience that it represents. Men in a cabin. Biking. Hippie Hash cooked on a griddle (thanks Erik!). Lakes and forests. Sick homebrew (thanks again Erik!). Cards. Fire (really big fires). Sweaty men drinking beer in a sauna. Tree climbing. The Nordic equivalent of Bacchi Ball - Kubs (with umlot over the u). Playing with dogs. Running out into a pitch black nite because you think you heard a bear (and the smartest thing of course is to run towards the bear). Incessant ridicule of each other. These are things all men need to counteract the daily worsening of our posture and bed sores on our assess that have developed from our cubicle lifestyle.

Will I do the race next year.....? Not sure. But we have a kid on the way which means we will probably have Pedialyte around the house.....