Supposedly there is this ultramarathon that is ultra-exclusive to the point of even finding out about how to apply to enter is next to impossible, it is supposedly the equivalent of scaling and descending Mt. Everest twice , and in some years nobody even completes it. Have any of you marathon runners ever tried to enter it or, better yet, actually ran it at least partially?
There’s a great documentary on Amazon Prime: Barkely Marathon . Very funny. They play taps for you when you drop out… Brutal!
The Barkley is limited to 40 runners and usually fills up quickly the day registration opens. Requirements and times to submit an entry application are a closely guarded secret with no details advertised publicly. Potential entrants must complete an essay on “Why I Should be Allowed to Run in the Barkley,” pay a $1.60 application fee, and complete other requirements subject to change. If accepted, an entrant receives a “letter of condolence.” Upon arriving, first time Barkley runners, known as virgins, are required to bring a license plate from their state/country as part of the entrance fee. Previous racers are required to bring an additional “fee” which in the past has included things such as a white shirt, socks, or a flannel shirt, as a donation for being a non-finisher. These donations are apparently based on the current needs of Lazarus Lake at the time. Prior finishers of the marathon who return to run again must submit a pack of Camel cigarettes as part of the registration fee. Race bib number one is always given to the person deemed to be the least likely to finish one lap out of all who have applied; a “human sacrifice,” as Cantrell calls it.
In most years no one completes it. Watch the documentary, it’ll explain most things better than come across here on the page.
A runner friend of mine was the sacrificial virgin one year, and she looks back on that very fondly.
I just did, and you’re right-What an incredible event.
Just watched it also. I’d heard of this event some years ago, but I didn’t know someone had made a film about it.
There are a couple more movies and videos about the Barkley Marathons. Ethan Newberry, “The Ginger Runner”, made one about Gary Robbins, a Canadian ultrarunner who in 2017 missed the cut-off time by six seconds (“Where Dreams Go To Die”). Jamil Coury, of Aravaipa Running, took a camera with him during his attempt in 2018, becoming the first person to film the course. It’s a pretty weird race, yes. The founder and race director, Lazarus Lake (real name Gary Cantrell) likes to get people to push the limits of what they can do. The Barkley is set up and conducted under the assumption that no one will successfully complete the race. He expects and encourages runners to fail.
Laz is something of a legend in the ultra community. In 2018, he stepped in the Atlantic Ocean surf in Newport, Rhode Island, then walked 3,200 miles to dunk them in the Pacific in Newport, Oregon. Not bad for a 60-something smoker (the signal for the beginning of the Barkleys is Laz lighting up a Marlboro). In the fall, Laz puts on another ultra in the same Frozen Head State Park that’s the site of the Barkley. The Big Backyard Ultra is a 4.167 mile loop that runners must complete in an hour. Then again. And again. And so on, until there’s only one person left. In 2020, Courtney Dauwalter won with 68 loops - 283.33 miles of pretty much constant running.
The Barkley is a hell of a race. Sixty hours to complete five 20-mile loops of an unmarked course, fighting brambles and cold streams and fatigue. In 34 years, only 15 people have done it. There’s no prize money, no posted results, no T-shirt or medal or belt buckle. But, if you do manage to finish the Barkleys under the sixty-hour cutoff, even UTMB and Western States winners will know your name.
The course is much longer than 20 miles, and gets longer each year. But it’s still officially 20 miles and probably always will be. If you complete 3 laps, that’s called a “fun run” and is a goal for many runners.
By the way, I squeed a little bit when I saw this thread. It’s the only thread on ultramarathons I’ve found on the board since I started following the sport six or seven years ago. Well, except for the one I started about the 2018 Ultra Trail de Mont Blanc, which was met with an overwhelming wave of indifference. Plenty of bike-racing and soccer fans on the board, but apparently I’m the only one into watching weathered, skinny people puke their guts up on the side of a mountain.
Nope, not the only one. I’ve run one ultra and I volunteer at them every year. I fell into a bad crowd and now spend the wee hours of the morning ladling out broth and cooking up grilled cheese sandwiches over a two burner Coleman stove.
Ultrarunning: the only sport where volunteering/crewing is almost as badass as participating. I’ve got boundless admiration and gratitude for the kind souls who crew hydration stations and gear-checks at the simple road races I run; doing so at 5 am up a snowy mountain is kindness taken to a whole 'nother level.
Never run an ultra myself - I’m currently battling through knee and back injuries to train for my next regular marathon, and I know it’ll kick my ass comprehensively - but I got to pace a friend running a six-hour trail race two weekends ago. Fun, although I’m pretty sure those steep downhills aggravated my knee sprain. I do like to keep up with the sport’s big names, though - was very excited to see Jim Walmsley run in the Olympic Marathon Trials in Atlanta back in February. My only brush with ultra celebrity was doing a couple of group runs with Jackie Merritt, the year after she was 6F at Western States.
According to a description of the documentary only ten people have finished the marathon in the twenty-five years it’s been run.
Fifteen people in 34 years.
At my favorite race I typically work a 32 hour shift; early Sat morning through Sun noon, with a few hours of sleep in my car at some point. I spend a good chunk of that time doing photography each year, ending up with a few thousand photos to crop, color correct, and publish. But the most fun is having runners come in at 3:00 AM and helping them fill water, giving the broth, convincing them to eat, swap clothes, etc. Sometimes all they need is someone to talk to, others have a crew and rigid plans. And we aid station workers get pretty loopy after that many ours, we have lots of fun.
And there’s always Fireball. 