The Barkley Marathons 2015

The Barkley won.

For me, it was never really a true contest. I don’t mean that I didn’t intend to go out and give it my best. It’s just that I knew enough about the course, about the event, to truly convince myself that this year, I didn’t have a shot at the whole thing. In that way, the Barkley beat me before I started. I never wrapped my head around the thought of 5 loops.

14 finishers in 26 years.

The Barkley Marathons, as we currently know it, started in 1989. It beat everybody that tried it until 1995, and then everyone again until 2001. The finishers are legendary. And each time the Barkley does not win, it gets harder.

It took me three years to get into the race, but it’s consumed me longer than that. My obsession started in 2011, the year of Brett Maune. I devoured everything I could find about the race, its director and participants, and especially those hallowed few finishers. I was hooked, but the more I learned about the race, and the more I learned about those finishers, the more the race intimidated me.

I learned how to enter in 2012 from one of those few finishers. And no, I will not share that secret with you. I still don’t feel worthy to do so. This race is special. It took me months to scrape together the courage to submit my essay, and even longer to admit to others that I’d registered. I mean, who am I to think that I should be selected to run the Barkley? In the end I realized that it’s not my job to question whether or not I should be selected to run. That’s Laz’s job. My only my job is to decide if I’m ready to apply.

I haven’t yet figured out if I was right.

My wife, my pups, and I got to Big Cove on Thursday evening in the rain. I slept in as much as I possibly could on Friday morning as the masses started arriving, but time crawled all day.

“Remember to check your manhood at the yellow gate,” Laz joked as I checked in. “You assume I brought mine with me,” I replied. He put the map out late in the afternoon. I took pictures and marked my maps at camp.

Stu Gleeman laid it out for me nicely, “Just follow the ridges.” If only it were that simple.

I slept horribly. The Barkley starts with the ceremonial lighting of an unfiltered Camel cigarette sometime between 12:01 AM and 11:59 AM Saturday morning. Only Laz and Raw Dog know the start time in advance, which Laz announces with the sound of a conch 1 hour prior. Knowing this, I was dressed, in bed, and ready to run by 9 PM Friday night. I woke out of a deep sleep at 2:59 AM with two successive identical hooting sounds. Worried that was the conch, I headed up to check. False alarm. Frozen Head’s owls apparently have quite a sense of humor. Sleep was pretty horrible from there on. Daylight came, but still no conch. Finally, at 10:22 AM, that unmistakable sound echoed through camp. T minus 60 and counting, and I was as giddy as a schoolgirl.

The race started, and I found myself climbing Bird Mountain behind Rob Youngren and Jamil Coury. The pace wasn’t too strenuous, and I chatted with Jamil a bit until he stopped to shed some layers. At the top of Bird, I let Jodi Isenor and two women by. Jodi asked about my last name, and we briefly chatted about our shared Hungarian heritage. I followed Jodi at a distance down to book 1, where I grabbed my page and handed the book to Jamil. Here, two groups broke off going in two vastly different directions, which prompted me to stop and consult my map and compass. As I was doing so, Hiram Rogers happened by, and I followed him East a bit before dropping off Jaque Mate Ridge. I had a compass bearing, and descended past Hiram down to the valley floor, where people were descending from all directions.

“Do you have book 2 yet?” I stupidly asked another runner, quite loudly displaying my complete lack of course awareness. “You have to climb Jury Ridge and descent before book 2,” he kindly answered. My virgin status was firmly cemented.

I slowed a bit on the candy-ass switchbacks up to Jury Ridge, letting a few runners by. At the top, I stopped to consult my map and directions with Charlie Taylor when Jodi happened by again, pointing me in the right direction, and down we went. Jodi took off a little farther East than I wanted, and Charlie and I let him go. I wouldn’t see him again until camp. Charlie and I hit the bottom of the hill too far North at the wrong creek and had to wander a bit to find book 2. As I grabbed my page and some cookies out of my pack, Frozen Ed Furtaw and four followers happened upon us. I grabbed a compass heading and started up the ridge as they grabbed their pages, but soon, Frozen Ed scampered by me up the 40% grade. I couldn’t hang with 67-year-old Scampering Ed up that grade.

Back up on the candy-ass trail, I passed Frozen Ed and his pack, caught up to Joe Kawalski, and let Rob Youngren and Jeremy Ebel run by before Son-of-a-Bitch Ditch, but every time I stopped to consult my map and directions, Frozen Ed was back on me. When Joe realized we’d gone too far on the switchbacks up to the Garden Spot, we turned around to see Frozen Ed climbing up the right spot, where he led us to book 3. Here, I made the decision to follow Frozen Ed for a while, because I simply couldn’t run and navigate faster than I could follow and learn from Frozen Ed.

Frozen Ed’s navigation to Bobcat Rock, down Leonard’s Butt Slide to book 4, and up to Fyke’s Peak Crater and book 5 was spot on. In his 19th trip on the course, Scampering Ed was one hell of a tour guide, and he straight out kicked my ass up the 80% grade on Leonard’s Butt Slide and 70% grade on Fyke’s Peak Crater. Rob Youngren also happened by again in that section, as did Jeremy Ebel, only confirming my decision to stick with Frozen Ed.

Eventually, as Jeremy went by on the ridge up to book 6, our group became 4: Frozen Ed, myself, Michelle Roy, and Chris Gkikas, and we were having a blast! The conversation was light-hearted, and we were on course and making seemingly-great time. Frozen Ed led us perfectly to book 7 and to Rat Jaw, where we saw Hiram and Julian Jameson on their way down. Towards the tower, Jeremy climbed by again for the last time. Everyone beat me to the top, where Alicia and my pups were waiting. I got some kisses, filled my bottles, grabbed my page at book 8, and started down with Ed, Michelle, and Chris.

The trip under the prison and to book 9 was pretty special, and the climb up Bad Thing in the dark was something else, but Frozen Ed put us on top right next to book 10. The descent down Zipline was insane, but again, Ed nailed it, and we collected our page at the Beach Tree without issue. I finally realized, climbing up Big Hell, that even if I left Frozen Ed at the top of Chimney Top, I wasn’t going to make it to camp in 13:20. Like the others, Ed led us right to book 12 and back onto the candy-ass trail. At that point, a sub-6 min pace would have brought us to camp in time, which was well beyond me.

I quietly made peace with my failure, and continued to enjoy the hell out of the journey back to camp, where Michelle, Ed, and I snuck up on the yellow gate in the dark and collected our “Taps”. I hadn’t even earned the right to have Laz count my pages. There is no page count for failed loops at the Barkley, and I had failed. I yearned to go back out, but I could not.

In spite of my failure, I’d received the course education of a lifetime from Frozen Ed on his 19th and possibly final attempt at the Barkley. I can’t thank him enough. I even joked about providing him the standard 20% gratuity for his guidance. He laughed at the $0.32 offer, and kindly asked if I had a beer instead. It was well deserved. Even now, the only thing I can’t close my eyes and picture is a backwards turn off the candy-ass trail down to book 2. Everything else is vividly rooted in my mind.

Now I’m stuck, knowing I can go faster, that I can go farther, but without the ability to do so for at least another year, but maybe two or three, or even more. This event, these people, the history, the stories, it’s all surreal, but I've left feeling incomplete. I can do more. 60 hours is not beyond me. This course, though. The climbs: 1700 feet in a mile; 1300 feet in half a mile; 2000 feet in a mile and a quarter, and none of that on “trail”. They just go on and on. It’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced. It’s bigger than anything I imagined; so much bigger. As Chris said, he hates the saying, “you have no idea.” It can be dismissive and lazy. But with the Barkley, you truly have no idea.

We stayed all weekend, through Tuesday morning, following the comings and goings, listening to random “Taps” being played throughout the night and next day, taking in the drama of not knowing where Jeremy Ebel was on loop 2, of Johan Steene missing on loop 3, of John Kelly and Jamil Coury in camp after their Fun Runs, of not knowing if John would go back out, then Jamil’s 21-hour loop 4. Eventually, Monday night came, and Laz’s white van disappeared from the campground. The Barkley was over, and I was sad. I didn’t want to leave, but leave we must.

I feel unfulfilled. I thought starting this event would ease my obsession, but it’s only fueled it. It’s bigger than I imagined, but the course isn’t so mysterious anymore. I have to go back. I have to try again, not because I’m sure I can finish, but because I don’t feel like I’ve given it my all. I could have gone faster. I could have gone farther. Should I have left my guide? Would I have been faster alone? I honestly don’t know.

But I am certain of two things: Next time, if I’m lucky enough to have a next time, I won’t be afraid to go at my pace, and I won’t be afraid to go alone.

"You can't beat death, but you can beat death in life, sometimes."

Reading Amy Rosenbaum Clark's fabulous article All in the Mind in April's Upper Midwest Trail Runners newsletter this morning, I was reminded of a quote I read in Travis Wildeboer's 2013 Barkley Marathons race report The 60-hour day that Andrew Thompson, the 8th finisher of the Barkley in 2009, said to Jonathan "Jonboy" Basham on their drive to the race in 2010 before Jonathan became the 9th finisher of the Barkley,

“You're entering a tunnel Jonboy,” said Thompson, “and there is no way out other than the other side.”

That's how you finish an ultra; you go into a tunnel and you don't come out until the finish. Come race day, after all the training is over and your kit is packed, it's all mental. During these events, that old mantra, "This isn't hard. This just is," constantly flows through my head. Though recently, that's morphed into everything: "It's raining. That's just how this is now." "My feet are wet. That's just how they are now." "My legs hurt. That's just how they feel now." Somehow, accepting my current conditions as they are with the mentality of, "So what? This is how it is now. Keep moving," really helps me keep going through that tunnel to the other side.

This mentality has seeped into every other aspect of my life. Life's hurdles and challenges that once seemed so daunting don't seem so big anymore. These events have taught me so much about life, about myself, about what's truly important.

I don't often remember my dreams, but thinking about that triggered memories of mine from last night. In my head, I was deep into loop 3 of the Barkley with a few faceless others, scaling a wall onto a thin ledge high above the valley, too extreme, too dangerous, even for the Barkley, watching the clock, knowing it was time to leave the others behind and keep going through that tunnel to the other side.

These things we do are fantastic. We're choosing to live life, to cheat death. How can we not laugh, smile, and giggle the entire time?

"your life is your life
don’t let it be clubbed into dank submission.
be on the watch.
there are ways out.
there is a light somewhere.
it may not be much light but
it beats the darkness.
be on the watch.
the gods will offer you chances.
know them.
take them.
you can’t beat death but
you can beat death in life, sometimes.
and the more often you learn to do it,
the more light there will be.
your life is your life.
know it while you have it.
you are marvelous
the gods wait to delight
in you."

— Charles Bukowski

2013 barkley marathons

(in honor of laz, the completely sane and charming race director of the barkley mararthons, this post is absent capital letters)

buckle envy

"you do realize that the losers in the barkley lottery are the ones who get chosen, right?" -laz

i spent a large portion of my weekend glued to the twitter feed #bm100, a feeble attempt to feel "out there" from afar.

there's a record amount of media covering this year's barkley marathons, from ny times articles to a documentary to facebook pages to twitter feeds to functioning (gawk) real-life web pages! for good or bad, more details are available than ever before. i've read it all. the race has consumed me. i've written about this thing i desire here and here.

2013 did not disappoint, as laz, the idiot king, conjured up another doozy. rain. fog. mud. cold. carnage.

the conch blew at the respectable hour of 8:04am, and an hour later, at the lighting of a filtered camel, 35 brave souls ventured "out there."

21 made it out for loop 2, but only 5 survived to leave camp for loop 3. (in contrast, the 350-mile iditarod trail invitations in the brutal alaskan winter amazingly had 48 finishers out of 48 starters this year--different races entirely, but still)

the barkley bugle

the 5 that left for loop 3: travis wildeboer (unsupported superior and long trail fkts); nickademus hollon (22-year-old ultra boss, badwater finisher, arrowhead finisher, hurt competitor, 2-time barkley fun run alum); the abbs (bev and alan, tough mfers and multi-time barkley fun run vets); and one of last year's record 3 finishers, jared campbell (barkley alum, hardrock winner, and nolan's 14 buff).

earlier in the day, jared came in first from loop 1 like a boss in the ultimate direction sj ultra vest and euro-capris, more than an hour before travis and nick and 2 before the abbs, making it look easy.  

euro capris, barkley-style

but it's never easy. on lap 2, the barkley happened, and jared reportedly lost 7 hours off course and was the last of the 5 to leave camp for loop 3, just minutes before cutoff. 

laz and the infamous, now-secret results book in camp

nick hollon was the first to finish loop 3 for his third consectuive fun-run finish in 32:56:15 (seconds fellas? for the barkley? really?). travis wildeboer finished loop 3 just under an hour later, in 33:50 (thereabouts), and the two left together for loop 4 at 34 hours and change, less than 2 hours under cutoff for a loop 4 start. 

as the pace slows in the later hours of the barkley, the suspense grows with everyone eager for another runner to appear back at camp. the downtime is never quiet, though. this year, western states rd craig thornely (aka, lord_balls), crewing the abbs, kept laz busy, discussing race management, perhaps? to think what laz would do to western states is frightening. 

jared broke up talks of making western states more "barkley," coming into camp as 2013's third fun-run finisher at 35 hours, but the 7 hours lost on loop 2 had taken it's toll, and with one hour to leave camp for loop 4, he voluntarily tapped, refusing to continue (rtc). just like that, the alum were none.

the abbs were next into camp, finishing the fun run in 39:09, over the 36-hour limit to continue onto loop 4. they don't make them any tougher though, with alan's 4th fun-run finish in 4 tries and bev's second fun-run finish, making her quite possibly the toughest woman on the planet.

loop 3 page count

rumors filled the air that, on the top of rat jaw on loop 4, travis and nick were in good spirits, laughing and singing, seemingly taunting the course.

rat jaw at day

nick came in from loop 4 at 46:50 with travis just 5 minutes from his heels, but travis turned it around quicker in just 13:13, getting out of camp 5 at 47:09 and choosing a forward, final loop 5. nick left camp 5 minutes later for his backwards loop 5.

nick getting his loop 5 page from laz

travis prepping for loop 5

in the end, nick made it back to camp in 57:41, becoming the 13th finisher of the barkley marathons, the 14th barkley finish (brett maune has two finishes, 2011 and 2012).

nick flying into camp for his loop 5 finish

lap 5 page count

at camp, nick joked about going out for another loop, but when laz offered to let him hit the "easy" button, he refused, opting for "no" instead.

travis finished loop 5 an hour later at 58:41, becoming the 14th barkley finisher, adding to the barkley's rich history of thru-hiking/peak-bagging alum.

travis coming into camp for his loop 5 finish

the fifth and final touch of the yellow gate

lap 5 page count and a well-deserved smirk

really, the only non thru-hiker alum are jared campbell (even though he's done nolans 14) and nick hollon (i'm not sure about mark williams). it seems the right kind of crazy for the barkley is that which can manage a small amount of hurt for a large amount of time without completely losing your shit. the mental aspect of the task seems bigger than the physical, surprisingly, and it takes a special kind of nut not to crack.

epic indeed.

travis wildeboer and nickademus hollon, barkley alum

telling stories in front of the yellow gate, "no shit there i was"

brett maune, jared campbell, john fegyveresi, travis wildeboer, nick hollon, and laz

with "frozen ed" furtaw, the first official finisher of the 3-lap barkley marathons

someday i'll get there. until then...

unending unease
another year of comfort
still yearning to fail

*the pictures above were taken from others and are used here without permission. to those i borrowed from, thank you. to those that want their's down, no worries, just ask.

The Barkley

In my last post, the 2013 Race Schedule, I wrote,

"There's a monster of a race that I'm toying with the idea of signing up for, and looking at the remaining lotteries and open registration dates, August and September are still a bit in flux." 

That "monster" is the Barkley. I was being coy, ambiguous on purpose, trying to drop a hint without actually coming out with it, and I don't really know why. This came up with a non-running friend tonight, after telling him about the "race" that "only 13 runners out of about 900 have finished within the 60-hour cutoff," and it prompted me to really try and figure this out.

I think I'm embarrassed, maybe even scared, to admit that I'm applying to this "race." With only 35 entrants per year, who am I to think that I should be selected to run the Barkley?

I say it on this blog all the time, that "I'm still trying to become a runner," and I'm absolutely not kidding. In no way, shape, or form do I have this running thing down pat. All my times are pedestrian, complete middle-of-the-pack times, and I'm learning new things ALL. THE. TIME. For instance, I just recently realized that I hadn't been using my glutes enough in my running to actually get anywhere "quickly." (Watch this fantastic instructional video on natural running by Dr. Mark Cucuzzella, Director of the Natural Running Center.) It's insane how much I'm still probably doing wrong, but hey, I love learning about it.

So, why am I embarrassed about publicly admitting that I'm applying for the Barkley? Because the entrants to the Barkley are, for the most part, complete STUDS (or STUD'ettes), and I'm, well, me.

For example, past entrants of the Barkley include:

• Brett Maune, current John Muir Trail FKT (Fastest Known Time), current Mount Whitney FKT, current Barkley CR (Course Record) holder, only ever 2-time Barkley finisher
• Jared Campbell, 5th-ever finisher of Nolan's 14, 7-time Hardrock finisher (5 sub-30 hr finishes, first place 2010)
• John Fegyveresi, Appalachian Trail, Pacific Coast Trail, Badwater finisher
• Blake Wood, 17-time Hardrock finisher (first place 1999), 14:51 Rocky Racoon 100M, 2nd-ever Nolan's 14 finisher
• David Horton, former Appalacian Trail FKT, Transcontinental Crossing, former Long Trail FKT, former Pacific Coast Trail FKT, 4-time Hardrock finisher (first place 1992, 1993), 17-time JFK finisher (first place 1995)
• Cave Dog Ted Keizer, former Long Trail FKT, current Colorado 14ers speed record, numerous other Mountain speed records
• Mike Tilden, 3-time Hardrock finisher, Badwater finisher, 1st-ever Nolan's 14 finisher
• Jim Nelson, finished Nolan's 14 2:09 above 60-hr cutoff
• Flyin' Brian Robinson, Hardrock finisher, first to hike Appalachian, Continental Divide, and Pacific Crest Trails in same year
• Andrew Thompson, former Appalachian Trail FKT
• Johnathan Basham, former Colorado Trail FKT, Long Trail FKT, Hardrock finisher
• Eric Clifton, 20-time JFK finisher (4-time winner), Badwater winner, 13:16 Rocky Raccoon 100M

And this is just a few! There's more. It's just completely sick.

Now, I don't consider myself in the same universe of athlete as these amazing people. Why on earth should Laz (Barkley's RD) let me into the Barkley? The simple answer is that, based on my bio, he shouldn't. As stated above, I'm a middle-of-the-pack runner. I've never gotten into, let alone finished Western States, HURT, or Hardrock (though not for lack of trying). I've never through-hiked a single trail (though I have a strong desire to take out the Superior Hiking Trail SOON). But I want the Barkley. I want it... badly.

Thoughts of the Barkley haunt my dreams. It’s consumed me. It terrifies me, and because of that, I need to do it. There’s this saying,

"We stopped checking for monsters under our beds when we realized they were inside us." 

The only way to stop this unending unease is to look under the bed and make the nightmare my reality. I'm not afraid of the dark, of the nightmares, of what's hiding under the bed, but maybe I should be.

Bukowski said that,

"We are here to laugh at the odds and live our lives so well that Death will tremble to take us."

Consider my applying for the Barkley as doing my best.

I guess I've realized that it's not my job to question whether or not I should be selected to run. My only job is to apply.