#YoungProfessional: The Running Mecca

by Brent McDermott

IF I ASKED five people on the street to describe Ann Arbor in five words or less, these are the answers I would hear: academic, charming, friendly, transient and progressive. They are not the first that come to my mind. My five words? The running Mecca of Michigan. Need proof? Just look outside. With temps creeping above 40 for the first time this year, every sidewalk, trail and park is teeming with runners.

Next month, 65 Ann Arborites will run the 119th Boston Marathon. No other city in Michigan had more runners meet the rigorous qualifying times set by the Boston Athletic Association. Grand Rapids is next best in the state with 50 runners who qualified, despite outnumbering Ann Arbor 188,000 to 114,000 in population. Detroit, will be represented by a paltry seven runners on Patriots Day this year.

So what makes Ann Arbor such a running mecca? Rob Morgan, a perennial Boston qualifier and local running guru, gave me some insight. He said that when he came to Ann Arbor from the suburbs of Columbus in 2000, he was a casual runner. On a lark, he started running with a group based out of Running Fit. After following the group’s training practices, he started running faster. He was taken aback by the sense of community among Ann Arbor runners. Then, in 2009, he and his wife, Marie, created PR Fitness, a personal training studio on Liberty Street that doubles as a meeting place for runners three days a week for tempo, interval and long runs. In 2014 alone, over 130 runners, including myself, joined Rob & Co. for at least one of his signature training runs. Rob thinks that Ann Arbor has cultivated such a rich running culture by converting novices into devout striders by making running so accessible and visible.

I agree with Rob, but think it’s more complex than that. Many of the words that are so frequently used to describe Ann Arbor are what I think make it a running Mecca. A town of academics shapes the running culture more than you might initially think. In every high school, cross-country runners are the most academically fit athletes. Therefore, it stands to reason that when your city is home to a world-class university, you are bound to find gifted runners studying there. That’s also where the “transient” part comes in to play. Most transient academics and professionals tend to be unattached—unencumbered by the obligations of marriage and children. Academics also tend to take a clinical approach to running. A finance professor and avid runner said something last fall that continues to resonate with me. He said running is unique inthat nearly anyone can become elite. His spot-on observation also illustrates another point: Academics in Ann Arbor tend to be more collegial than other high-brow institutions of learning. Eager to dispatch advice to newbies without condescension, this breed of runner is the ideal salesperson to entice the pedestrian runner into buying in to his methodology.

Before our heat wave this week, my running partner, Mike, was in town from Houston. We’ve known each other since third grade, and running has kept the friendship active. After high school, Mike played football at Harvard and studied economics. As you might expect, he is a classic academic runner. Hyper aware of how to fine-tune his body after minor injuries, and what he is capable of on race day; there are no surprises with Mike. Even though Mike is a far superior athlete, we happen to run matching marathon paces. With the thermometer registering in the teens, Mike and I went on a long training run, testing our fitness and compatibility before an upcoming race in Virginia. Not surprisingly, Mike commented on the “charm” of Ann Arbor as we glided through the downtown. He also lamented missing the parks and trail accessibility of Michigan when we marched along the B2B trail, gazed into the Arb, and finished around North Campus. The good news: we were right on target with our training, covering 20 miles at a formidable pace. The bad news? My less than scientific route (I am not an academic) had landed us near Huron High School, a solid three miles from my share-house in Water Hill. Mike, a converted Texan with a “by the bootstraps” resolve, was determined to jog home. Me, I had a better idea.

With no phones or wallets at our disposal and our body temperatures plummeting, I decided to go “all in” on the friendliness of the Ann Arbor community. I spotted a mother and son headed toward the school parking lot. My original plan was to explain what happened and ask for confirmation on the direction toward downtown. Not a very transparent tactic, I must admit. Before I could finish my story, the mother was insisting that we get in her car before we freeze to death. Keep in mind, Mike and I have dark beards and were dressed like cat burglars, head to toe in black spandex. In keeping with the theme of this column, we learned that our Good Samaritan soccer mom was once a skilled triathlete before having kids, and sympathetic towards the plight of runners. On the way home, Mike kept complementing our driver’s friendliness. She took exception to Mike’s comments, insisting that she was just doing what other Ann Arborites would do. Her conviction and hometown pride were both endearing and indicative of the shared sentiment among locals.

I realize how trite this statement might sound, but I think it’s hard to overstate. Friendliness is the bedrock of Ann Arbor culture, and it spills over into the running community. Runners go out of their way to make other runners feel welcome. It can be as simple as a head nod or grin when paths are crossed, or as thoughtful as an invitation to run with a group when someone is new in town, especially in a place with so many transient folks.

Like over 90 percent of American marathon runners, I have never qualified for Boston. However, when my 65 Ann Arbor comrades return from their foot race though Hopkinton, Heartbreak Hill and Boylston Street, I will be asking questions, taking astute notes and strategizing for next year.