2001 Finisher

My Account of Badwater starts 2 weeks before the race. I had a hard time sleeping I hate tapering! So I started reading the book to the Edge by Kirk Johnson I thought it was an awesome tribute to ultra running, a friend bought it for me. I didn’t want to read to the Edge (the book) or see Running on the Sun (the movie) before running Badwater, I thought that it might make me too nervous. But after reading Kirk’s writings it had a calming effect on me. I thought of Kirk running Badwater not me, which worked out great.

23 July Monday

Barb drove me to Enterprise Rental car to pick up our Van; Enterprise buffed us up by giving us a big discount (thanks). We were suppose to get a mini Van but they had a large number of 1 ton Chevy white Vans on their lot, just what we needed. I drove the mega Van home and Mark McKinney met me at our house to take out the Van seats and put the ice chests in. Barb, Mark and I went to Albertson’s and did the last minute shopping.

That evening Barb cut up fruit and I baked potatoes, I used a syringe with a big gauge needle to inject Soy sauce into the potatoes (a trick that Barbara Elia taught me). We finally got to bed about 10:00pm.

24 July Tuesday

4:00am our morning started, Barb and I loaded the remaining food into the ice chests and waited for Mark, Elaina and Chris to arrive. We left about 6:00am and dropped the Explorer over Mitch’s. The plan was for Mitch to drive the Explorer to Panamint Springs Wednesday after work so we could have a backup vehicle at Badwater. We had Breakfast at Denny’s (a BIG breakfast) and left Ridgecrest with big bellies, I remained silently nervous.

We arrived Death Valley about 9:00am, we parked the Van under a large tree and stenciled my name and race number on all 4 sides. We checked into our room about noon and unloaded the necessities. We had lunch and I had my first Portabella Mushroom Sandwich, maybe it helped me during the run maybe not. Barb, Chris, Elaina and I attended the 2:00pm meeting, we saw all the runners (I was silently bubbling over). Chris and I went to the pool while Barb and Elaina attended the blister care/prevention class given by Denise Jones. They started performing their magical taping act on my feet as soon as they got back to the room. Barb, Chris and I decided to get a bite to eat so we headed to the restaurant and had a Lemon Meringue pie. After the snack we picked up some ice to top off the ice chests for the days ahead. Barb and Elaina cut fruit for the run and videotaped the fun. We finally went to bed at 9:30pm, I slept well just had to pee every hour (hydrated to the max). Barb got up at 4:00am the rest of the crew followed, I slept in as long as I could.

25-27 July Wednesday-Friday

We left for the start of Badwater at 5:00am, there were really bright stars in the dark sky. I felt that the stars were eyes of my family and friends watching my progress, it was a weird nervous time for me.

When we arrived the air was warm and felt humid, the temperature was about 96 degrees. My Crew and I walked down to the Badwater lakebed and looked up at the mountain wall. Elaina asked what was on the side of the wall? I told her a sign that said sea level, we all said “WOW”. After a long series of pictures the race started. I fast hiked the first 2 to 3 miles and got my head together for the task at hand. I started relaxing and got into my game plan, simply “be smooth, steady, efficient and methodical”. I saw Ben Jones about mile 3; the Mayor of Badwater was clapping for me and said I was smart for starting out slow, I felt good.

The mountains opened up and I was in the sun for the first of many miles, Mark joined me in the sun about mile 8. We ran to Stovepipe Wells together through the toughest part of the course. I ate really good throughout the Valley which consisted of Strawberries, Kiwi, Bananas, Water Melon, Honey Dew Melon, Cantaloupe, Slimfast (Creamy Chocolate), Grilled Chicken with Swiss Cheese wrapped around it, Spinach Tortillas with Macaroni & Cheese and Tuna (my secret weapon). The Valley was starting to heat up a bit; I started catching up to some of the runners who had started faster than me. One of my fellow runners that I caught up to at mile 30 was Chris Moon, an extremely tough guy. He’s a double amputee from England and you can read his bio at http://www.badwaterultra.com/.

I arrived at Stovepipe Wells about 4:30pm and changed into Teva running sandals. Elaina took over from Mark and we headed up Townes Pass. My Back started to feel a little stressed from the Tevas so I ditched them and put my original New Balance back on. I started feeling a little nauseous, so I ate 3 Rolaids and wolfed down a zip lock baggie of Mac & Cheese while hiking up to the Pass. Elaina said we had passed Marshall Ulrich, he’s a Badwater legend doing the first quad crossing. He had already ran from Badwater to the top of Whitney and back to Badwater. He started his second trip with me and would be going up and back again. Read his bio at http://www.badwaterultra.com/.

I didn’t see him so in my mind he was still in front of me (I’ll explain later). We had fun watching the sun set, I looked at my thermometer it was 118 degrees. Three quarters of the way up the pass 2 friends from Ridgecrest showed up, Tom Miller and Phil Martin. It was great to see them, I thanked them for coming out. We got to the top about 11:00pm, at the top I had a bowl of Chicken Noodle Soup and did a Blair Witch imitation as well as a Slimfast commercial for the video camera.

Mister Chris Rios took over as pacer and we were off. We told ghost stories and looked at the Milky Way. The downhill was steep so we fast walked or should I say fall forward. We met a fellow runner who had bad blisters and a sleepy crew (I don’t think he finished). We arrived at Panamint Springs about 2:30am 72 miles, I used the facilities and Eric the Master Kajiwara and I were off. Eric, Jo and Mitch were with me now as part of the new crew.

The second mountain range was hard going but I had some fun at about 4:30am. I saw what I thought was a cement road divider in the middle of the road. I asked Eric if there was a road on the other side of the road divider and he kind of looked over to where I was talking about and said “no” then I said, “you didn’t even look”. I went to the middle of the road put my hands on the road divider to look over it and almost fell on my face as the road divider was a hallucination and it just melted into the road. At mile 80, 5:30am I sat down for the first time and took care of blisters on my toes. I cut a small hole to drain them and put Liquid Bandage on them, I woke up fast (it’s more like liquid hornet). At the same time my feet were being doctored up a couple of photographers drove by from New Times a LA weekly paper. They took pictures of my feet, my crew, and my Tattoo on my ankle. Most ultra runners experience renewed vigor as the sun comes up I didn’t, I couldn’t keep my eye’s opened. I asked for a 5-minute nap and was told that I should try ice instead, it didn’t work but the sleepiness wore off down the road. On the second morning the sun was hot so I put the sun suit back on, it was a little crunchy from the day before. Eric and I were running and walking strong, when all of a sudden a giant flying bug from hell arrived. Eric tried to swat the beast but it stayed just ahead of his deadly blows. Finally he made contact, we heard a thump on the ground but didn’t see the monster. We both agreed that Eric kicked the crap out of him and he wouldn’t return after such an ass whooping. WRONG the monster returned and attacked with such ferocity that Eric had to whip out all his ninja skills. He hit the beast on the first blow with his hat, the giant flying bug was now knocking at heavens door as Eric threw the final deadly blow. The giant flying bug was gone, but the fun of watching Eric battle the beast was spectacular. However as the battle between Eric and the bug was in progress the Crew in the Van got an eye full of what they thought was going on. They thought Eric was trying to motivate me to go on by beating me with his hat, they couldn’t believe their eyes.

At mile 90 Barb took over as pacer. Barb and I had a great time talking, we ran downhill until my feet started to tell me something was wrong. Both my legs ached to the bone, I hadn’t complained to any of the crew and I didn’t want to start with my sweetheart. I did complain and she said that she’d ice my feet at the next stop which was 100 miles, I said GREAT. I stopped at mile 100 with a time of 29:52 (better than Angeles Crest 100), Barb iced my feet and I pulled the tape I had been wearing for the last 100 miles back to expose the blister. I had a deep blister on the ball of my right foot. It was difficult to cut a hole in it so I had to stick a needle in it, lift and then cut. Mitch helped me drain it, then my favorite wake up call was added “Liquid Bandage”.

Mitch and I started out walking, my feet and legs felt great after taking care of the blister. We saw the switchbacks going to the Portals, it looked awesome 35 miles away so we started to run. Mitch and I had fun calculating out miles per hour and estimating how long it would take us to get to Keeler. I liked every step I took because I was in unknown territory, anything over a 100 miles was new ground and it felt good to run.

Jo and I started out mile 110, Jo was so careful to make sure a car wouldn’t hit me. She had her hand at the ready to push me out of harms way (all the pacers insured that I wouldn’t get hit, Jo was just a little more assertive). John Anderson showed up about 2 or 3 miles from 395 with his son Mike and 2 pots of Casa Java coffee. He said he would get me a hamburger in Lone Pine. Jo and I left the Van and I was looking forward to getting into Lone Pine, I had to use the facilities. As we were moving along I noticed a coin on the road; I pointed at it (I couldn’t verbalize). Jo picked it up and we found out it was an Italian coin (nice snag), I’ll place it with all my Badwater memorabilia.

We got to Highway 395 and Elaina and I started out, I reminded her that I needed to use the facilities. We stopped at the Alabama Hills Hotel and asked the Clerk where the bathroom was located, he said around the corner. I looked around the corner and there was no bathroom, I thought maybe he got a whiff of my two day old body odor and decided he’d not tell me the exact location. Anyway while I was looking for the facilities Elaina saw a guy with a 5K T-shirt on and said you’re a runner, aren’t you? He said “yes” and then she said do you have a room here? And he said “yes” again, then she asked if he would help out a fellow runner by letting me use his bathroom. And he said “sure”, I entered his room and there were 2 other guys in the room unpacking their clothes (they had just arrived). The 5K guy explained to his friends what was going on as I used the facilities, I apologized and thanked all as I exited.

Now I was totally happy entering into Lone Pine, I could see the last check point the Dow Villa. As I got closer I saw the silhouette of a Boxer dog; I asked Elaina if she saw a Boxer dog and she said yes. I knew I wasn’t hallucinating, it was my dog Murphy. My daughter Mandie along with her husband Jacob, my granddaughters Katie and Hope Joy and Jakie my grandson had come to see me finish. I didn’t know they’d be there, it was a really big happy moment. I checked into the Dow Villa and hugged my family and greeted Lisa and Glen Bennett from the track club.

Elaina and I headed for the Portals Road and a long pit stop. I wanted to check my feet, eat a burger and talk with friends and family. My stay was cut short; I didn’t feel good so I decided to leave. 2 miles down the road, 11 miles from the finish I started to shake, I felt like I had a fever, nausea, headache and body aches, I didn’t think I was going to finish. I held Barb and told her I needed to lie down she threw a blanket on the side of the road and I laid down for about 10 minutes. My shakes stopped so I stretched my legs and said, “let’s go”.

Eric and I headed out; I forgot my water bottle so Chris Rios sprinted from the Van to us. I must have felt better because I was laughing at how fast Chris was running. Now remember way back at Townes Pass I said that I didn’t see Marshall Ulrich when Elaina said we passed him, well I still thought he was in front of me and I was so inspired by his tenacity that I started to feel stronger every step I took. I knew I was going to finish! My crew decided that they were going to switch out pacers every 2 miles so they could enjoy the last couple of miles with me. 2 miles from the finish I opened a can of Whoop Ass, it’s a beverage to boost your energy. I took a sip; it tasted like crap to me (Barb drank it down).

1 mile to go, Barb was with me. Eric, Jo, Chris, Mitch, Elaina and Mark walked down to join me on the final journey. I finished in 43:36:20, 1:36am Friday morning and fell on the ribbon holding girl Elisabeth.

Originally I decided to do the race to challenge my body and mind. This is better than that; my Grandchildren will pass this on forever.

I want to thank my lovely wife and best friend Barb, she supported me throughout the whole enchilada. My Crew Elaina McMahon, Eric and Jo Kajiwara, Chris Rios, Andrew Mitchell and Mark McKinney, I couldn’t have done it without you guys “THANKS!” I also want to thank Ben and Denise Jones, 2 very special people, and Chris Kostman the Race Director for putting on such a top shelf event.

Three time finisher

I have run the Sun Precautions Badwater Ultramarathon the last two years. Both years I ran the race in 42 plus hours. Since that is considered a good time for a runner my age (now almost 60), I was thrilled with my finishing time but felt I could still improve it. So this year I went to Death Valley with the intention of trying to break the 40-hour barrier. It should be spelled “bearier” because it is a bear.

Considering my last two finishes as quite successful, I thought I had Badwater and Death Valley figured out. Piece of cake. Just go out and stay focused, drink the normal ration of Gatorade and other liquids, pee a lot and everything will be OK. I eschewed the idea that runners need supplements so I never before took any like those “other” runners. All I need is my Gatorade, which I drink by the gallon, and it will provide me all of the electrolytes and sodium that I need. BOY was I ever wrong. I have said many times that you can never be sure of how things will go in Death Valley, I simply did not listen to myself. Just when you think you have the right formula, the rules change and everything goes bonkers.

Now that I have had time to analyze and think about what went wrong, I have a story to tell. I have written an article about my experiences after each of my two previous Badwater finishes. This year I had decided that if all went as before, there would be nothing new to write about. As I said, I had this race pegged. But this story has something to tell and perhaps help other runners from experiencing what I went through.

Heat? I did not think this year, 2002, was as hot as 2000 or 2001, but it sure was humid. I was not ready for the humidity brought in by a thunderstorm that was expected but did not materialize. However, the humidity that accompanies a thunderstorm was certainly present. The heat index must have shot way up because I was unable to maintain my electrolytes at a normal operating range and by mile 36 I was starting to cramp. First I felt my hips tightened up and then slowly my hips and other parts of my body started cramping. I did not see it coming on until it was too late. I found out that cramping is a major symptom of electrolyte deficiency.

Besides my hips cramping, whenever I stopped to rest, my legs would also cramp so I decided to not stop. I was definitely slower than the previous two years and was slowing down even further. I had gained time over the last two years going into Furnace Creek but lost it all even before I got to Stove Pipe Wells. I had never experienced electrolyte deficiency before so I was totally unaware of my problem. I knew I was hydrated as I was drinking my “normal” amount and was urinating regularly, fairly clear urine, which is a sign of proper hydration. I needed time to recover but time down lessens the chances to “buckle”, that coveted carrot.

Jane, my crew person in charge of monitoring my medical condition, suggested that I take a break and try to determine what my problem might be and take care of it. This meant getting a room at the Stove Pipe Wells’ Hilton. She volunteered to go up ahead to Stove Pipe Wells and get us a hotel room. I was in denial so refused to give in and acknowledge having a problem. When I finally agreed to taking a break, it was almost too late. Jane did manage to commandeer a room for me in which to shower, lay down and recoup. Unknown to me, my son Kevin had queried the race’s medical team concerning my condition. The doctor immediately recognized the symptoms and recommended he pump e-caps into me. E-caps are these “magical” capsules that provide the electrolytes your body requires when it is stressed by the conditions under which we were running in Death Valley. Kevin and Heidi started feeding me e-caps in my drinks without my knowledge, thank God, because had it not been for that, I don’t know what the results might have been.

When I finally crawled into the hotel room I got into shower before I laid down to rest and rehydrate. The water in the shower was on full cold yet the water temperature never cooled below about 105F degrees. After the mid 120s outside, 105 was not too bad. I laid down and immediately my body started cramping from my back down to my toes. It might have been the right thing to do but I was concerned about my time and not being able to continue in the condition I was in. Everything cramped whenever I moved. Again Jane came to my rescue. She massaged my cramping legs and was a major factor in my ability to continue.

After about one and one half to two hours and gobs of e-caps shugged down with copious amounts of Gatorade, coke and water my body quit cramping and I was able to sleep for a couple of hours. Kevin and Heidi then went out to our crew support vehicle and made bacon, egg and cheese sandwiches, which we devoured and washed down with more water, coke and Gatorade. By this time it was getting time to continue and so we did. We left Stove Pipe Wells (mile 41) at about 12:40 AM Wednesday morning.

The rest of the story, as is often said, is history. I ran/walked for the next 24 hours and managed to limp into Lone Pine (mile 122) by very early Thursday morning. Then we slogged up the Portals Road in just over four hours to finish in a very good time, considering the problem the day before. Final finishing time was 45:56. About three hours slower than my slowest previous time but considering I spent six hours in a hotel room, I am again very happy with my overall time. Great crews are hard to find but I have always managed to find the right crew for me. They were wonderful.

What is next? Well, if you think running for 45 hours in Death Valley in July is crazy, as is the general consensus, wait until you hear about my plans for next year….

Cancer Survivor, and 2000 and 2001 Finisher

Getting to the starting line this year took a lot more than just normal training. Two weeks of high dose Chemo in December & January, followed by a month in UCLA Medical Center in Westwood to receive a Bone Marrow Transplant using my Stem Cells.

I told everyone when asked I thought I was back to about 85% of last year, but what I lacked physically I made up in mental toughness & faith. I was right, but I was off on the %, more like 50%.

The race started and everything fell into place. My crew, Rob (brother) and Al (long time friend) were ready to roll. Our 4×4 Tahoe was loaded with ice and supplies.

At the 1st Check Point I was only 5 minutes off last years time. Check Point 2, I was only a total of 20 minutes behind, then spent another 20 minutes dialing in my clothes & socks for the evening and was off up Townes Pass. At the top of Townes, my quads never hurt so bad, worse by far than after the entire race last year. I thought I might had bitten off more than I was really ready for because I had lost another hour.

But I had to have this goal while in the hospital and recouping. I talked to my crew about maybe having to drop out at Panamint. They said they understood and not to worry about them coming out from Wisconsin and Ohio, they could see I was giving it 100%. They went ahead 1 mile and I said a prayer and asked God for some major help. Within a minute a Van pulled up and turned around. It was Lisa Smith who asked “How ya doing Rick?” She had been in contact with me in the hospital along with many other Badwater racers. I told her, not good, I was thinking of dropping. She said, “No Way, there was still a lot we could do.” At the next stop she had my crew get out a chair and iced my quads, then massaged out the lactic acid. 22 minutes later we were back running. She had the crew she was with check with Marshall to see if it would be OK for her to stay stayed with me till Panamint. He said sure. Lisa was a gift from God.We got to Panamint hours ahead of my projected time. We made up the 1:40 minutes I had lost and gained about another 25 minutes. She had my crew get me breakfast and worked on my quads again.

Then she asked David, a photographer and friend, to pace me up Father Crowley’s. He and my crew shuttled his van a few miles ahead every hour or so and he gave me reports… Marshall’s X amount of miles ahead and would love to walk/run with you, but you have to catch him, he’s not going to wait. My only chance was about every 25 minutes Marshall had to stop so his crew could wrap fresh ice on his shins. I think about 5 or 6 hours later, after I made it over the 5,000 ft. marker, I finally saw him!!! Now, I was getting close. I new I would be with him in a while. See, Marshall is another one of my Heroes and this was going to be great.

They gave me a 10 minute rest when I got there. I had a sandwich, pudding and Lisa worked on my quads one more time. Then we were off. We got to Check Point 4 in the late afternoon, and it was still light out. I couldn’t believe it. I started 4 hours later this year and still got to Darwin while it was light. We got to watch an unreal sunset. Marshall made me feel so confidant. We talked and joked together, and with our crews. My crew was doing great keeping me fuled with Sustained Energy once an hour. Food in between that, new iced bandannas every other mile and anything else I needed to keep me going strong. It was great!

Around midnight we were taking a 2 minute break & a Big Harley pulls up and this guy yells out, “#81, Ready to Rumble!!!” I couldn’t believe it. It was one of my crew from last year, Joe. He flew out from Wisconsin to Arizona, rented a Harley and found us in Death Valley. What a surprise! Around 4 am both Marshall and I decided to take a 30 minute power nap, so we went to our crew vehicles and got some much needed rest. It was my first sleep in about 48 hours.

The sun rose, and we were out by Keeler heading into Lone Pine. We got to LP to the cheers of many. I couldn’t believe it, I think it was 8:07 am and I was hoping to get there around 3 pm. We had my brother Rob get us both breakfast at PJ’s and decided to eat under a shade tree at the start of the Portal Road.

After we got started again, Marshall still had more in him than me, so I thanked him and Lisa and told them I would see them at the finish. Joe was a great influence to pump me up during those late hours. Going up the Portal road I thought was he a vivid hallucination or had he really pulled up on that Harley? He was really there… LOL. My crew was now using every trick they had learned to keep me pushing up the Portal road. At 51:51:08 I crossed the finish line; 3: 53 minutes faster than last year.I could barely believe it. I almost can’t remember feeling joy of this magnitude. We took pictures, got the medal and had to head back down to Lone Pine to get ready for the Summit attempt in the morning.

We decided to go to the post race meeting to see about other runners who might be summiting. More luck we hooked up with Denise, Scott (a climber) & Phil who were going with Shannon. Rob, my brother, was going to try his luck at Whitney in a day. See the rest of us train hard for 50’s , 100’s or Badwater or have climbed big mountains. Rob was here from Wisconsin but had every ounce of himself ready for the adventure. Al had to fly back to Chicago for a service for his Dad who passed away just days before the race. So, we were doing it in His Honor for Al, but Al was there in spirit! We got to the Summit at 12:30 pm, 5:22 minutes faster than last year. What an achievement, we were so happy. Going down was long and slow with never ending switchbacks, but we got back to the Portal parking lot at dusk. My brother was AWESOME!!! He hiked and had the time of his life with the rest of us, I was so proud of him.

I would like to THANK my Crew, Rob and Al, Lisa, Marshall, Jay and the rest of Marshall’s crew. I couldn’t have done it without the combined efforts of everyone.

Also, I would like to Thank everyone at SIGNTRONIX where I work for their love and support through all of this. They have been behind me 100%.

This was truly a dream come true. All during my Bone Marrow Transplant all I could think about was getting well and this race. Enlargements of pictures from The 2000 Badwater Ultra Marathon were all over the walls of my hospital room for the entire month. All I can hope is I always have a dream and a goal and never forget, No Matter How Bad Things Get, with Faith and hard work I can always try and give it my best. Lance Armstrong and I had both had a good month and showed Cancer Survivors are not damaged merchandise.

To read crew member Al Parell’s account, click here.

Laufen zum Takt der Rolling Stones

BRAUNSCHWEIG. Wenn er sich nachts vor Müdigkeit kaum noch auf den Beinen halten konnte, ermunterte ihn die Stimme des Rolling-Stones-Sängers Mick Jagger, die aus dem Auto dröhnte, zum Weiterlaufen. Eberhard Frixe hat geschafft, wovon viele Marathonläufer träumen: Er überstand das über 216 strapaziöse Kilometer führende Badwater-Race im amerikanischen Death Valley.

Die Tour gelte in Läuferkreisen als eines der härtesten Rennen der Welt, erklärt der Industriekaufmann aus Meine. Er stand bereits zum zweiten Mal am Start. Im vergangenen Jahr hatte er nicht durchgehalten – so wie 16 der 80 Teilnehmer aus aller Welt in diesem Sommer. “Nach 20 Kilometern war ich zusammengebrochen”, erzählt der 51-Jährige, der bereits vor 21 Jahren mit dem Extremsport begann. Diesmal hatte er sich vorbereitet: “Ich bin drei Tage vorher angereist, um mich an das Klima zu gewöhnen.”

Gestartet wurde am tiefsten Punkt der USA, 85 Meter unter dem Meeresspiegel. Die Strecke führt hinauf auf das Mount Whitney Portal, das 2548 Meter hoch liegt. Insgesamt müssen die Läufer 3962 Höhenmeter überwinden. Sollzeit: 60 Stunden. Die hat der Sportler unterboten. Exakt 41 Stunden, 39 Minuten und 35 Sekunden brauchte er. Damit platzierten sich Frixe und Laufkollege Uli Weber aus Franken unter den besten 30. Wer unter der magischen Marke von zwei Tagen bleibt, bekommt die begehrte Badwater-Race-Gürtelschnalle.

Die Bedingungen waren extrem: Tagsüber brannte die Sonne bei 53 Grad Celsius, nachts sanken die Temperaturen auf minimal besser verträgliche 30 Grad. Ein Cap mit Nackentuch schützte ihn vor der Einstrahlung. “Andere trugen weiße Leinenanzüge.” Auf den letzten 40 Kilometern hat Frixe nochmal zwölf Konkurrenten überholt, jedesmal ein neuer Adrenalinstoß. Gerade mal eine halbe Stunde Schlaf hat sich der 51-Jährige innerhalb der 41 Stunden gegönnt. Gegessen wurde halbwegs im Stehen, und zwar Trekkingnahrung: “Spaghetti Bolognese, einfach Wasser dazu. Ein wunderbares Gericht”, beschreibt der Extremsportler. Oder Bananen, “die sind schnell im Körper verfügbar”.

Begleitet wurde Frixe von seinem Team, das in einem Van nebenher fuhr: ein Physiotherapeut, der die Waden massierte, wenn sie zu sehr verhärtet waren, ein Fernsehreporter und dessen Freundin, eine Krankenschwester, betreuten ihn. “Ein eingespieltes Team”, lobt Frixe. Gegen die Hitze legte er sich nasse Handtücher um den Hals, seine Crew spritzte ihn mit kaltem Wasser ab.

Trotz der Strapazen dieser Woche fühlt sich der braun gebrannte Frixe super: “Das liegt an den Endorphinen.” Das so genannte Runner’s High halte eine gute Woche an. Muskelkater habe er nicht.

Dennoch trainiert der Meiner bereits wieder fleißig in heimischen Gefielden. Allerdings auf Sparflamme – etwa 20 Kilometer läuft er jeden Tag. Sein nächstes großes Ziel hat der Läufer, der den diesjährigen Hannover-Marathon in zwei Stunden und 57 Minuten rannte, schon vor Augen, für den Herbst: La Réunion, die Nachbarinsel von Mauritius. Sponsoren buttern für die Reisekasse zu. “135 Kilometer, 8000 Höhenmeter Unterschied, durch fünf Klimazonen”, sagt er. Seine Familie habe dafür Verständnis: “Meine Frau und meine beiden Kinder laufen selbst Marathon.”

Meet the athletes who push the limits of endurance by participating in epic competitions that begin where marathons end

Originally Published in Midwest Express Airlines Magazine, July 2001
Published here with the permission of the author.

Above left: Errol Jones, and above middle, Lisa Smith and Jay Batchen, during the 2000 Badwater Ultramarathon (Photo by Tony DiZinno). Above right: Jonathan Boyer in the 1985 Race Across America. Photo by Dave Nelson.

The 50-minute video is grainy, a little dark, probably a second- or third-generation dub off a 16-year-old episode of ABC’s Wide World of Sports. But the drama unfolding pulses with such intensity it could’ve been occurring live. Two top-notch, but very different, cyclists are battling for the lead in the 1985 Race Across America, a sleep-deprived, hallucination-inducing, almost unbearable endurance bicycle race spanning 3,120 miles from Huntington Beach, Calif., to Atlantic City, N.J.

At stage left, there’s Jonathan “Jacques” Boyer, a Tour de France cyclist who dismisses his competitors as “not real athletes.” At stage right, there’s long-time endurance cyclist Michael Secrest, without the professional cycling pedigree, but with the long-distance experience and a full repertoire of psychological weapons.

For nine agonizing days, the two play cat-and-mouse, often within just a dozen or two miles of one another, bleary-eyed, tenacious, spinning, spinning, spinning across endless miles of blacktop. The network couldn’t have broadcast a better passion play if it had hired its own scriptwriter and cast. “The race had narrowed to a dark duel,” the narrator announces solemnly, with anxious music from the horror film ‘Halloween’ accompanying the voice-over. “Along the dark shoulder of a rural Arkansas truck route, the race assumed a mood of urgency it had never previously enjoyed. Their senses awakened by the scent of competition, the ultramarathon cyclist and the road racer dug into their pedals.”

• • •

“I still watch that video a couple of times a year,” remarks 34-year-old Chris Kostman. “To see that battle of wills, that clash of titans, unfold on the open highways of America….” his voice trails off. Kostman was already an accomplished distance cyclist himself at the time of the 1985 Race Across America, and was, in fact, trailing the racers in one of the race’s official vehicles. He was just out of high school, on his first road trip without his parents, surrounded by the heroes of a culture that spoke to him. “I think about that race almost every day,” he notes. “It was just an incredibly formative experience for me.”

Today Kostman runs AdventureCORPS, his L.A.-based firm that organizes some of the most excruciating endurance races out there: Runners competing in the Badwater Ultramarathon run 135 miles across Death Valley in July. Cyclists in the Furnace Creek 508 enlist in what is dubbed “the world’s toughest single-stage open bicycle race,” a non-stop, 508-mile torture test that traverses the Mojave Desert and Death Valley, climbing more than 35,000 feet along the way.

The success of AdventureCORPS reflects a growing interest in extreme athletic competitions, races that raise the physical bar to what many would consider almost impossible levels. By foot, by bicycle, by kayak, by dogsled, by snowshoe, by ski, by pretty much any manner you can dream up, more and more people are out to tax their personal limits, to push their bodies–and perhaps even more so, their minds–to extremes.

The obvious question, of course, and the one the athletes hear time and time again, is: Why? Why would people put themselves through such a test?

Some of the post-race diary entries alone read like case studies in masochism. “I began having mild asthma symptoms at 50 miles, became exhausted and despondent at 55 miles and dropped out at 57.5… In retrospect, I should probably have continued in the hope of reviving,” wrote one participant in the Hardrock 100, widely considered the nation’s toughest hundred-miler, a run that staggers uphill for more than 33,000 feet as it winds through the thin alpine air of Colorado’s San Juan mountains. Cyclists in the Furnace Creek 508 write about hallucinations brought on by sleep deprivation and fatigue–sagebrush morphing into people, buildings appearing on the horizon. Paddlers in the Yukon River Quest–a 460-mile, 50-hour-plus canoe race–crumble to the ground with bloody hands, torqued backs and atrophied “canoe legs.”

“I have been naked and sobbing by the side of a road,” acknowledges Bob Boeder, whose impressive running resume includes the ?grand slam of trail ultrarunning,? completing four of the most prestigious 100-mile races (including the Hardrock 100) in a single summer. ?And I have felt the most glorious sense of well-being and happiness you can imagine. A runner will go through as many emotions in a 30-hour trail race as most people do in an entire year.

“Contrary to the popular perception, we’re not a bunch of weirdo crazies,” Boeder adds. “We’re ordinary people doing extraordinary things. Maybe it’s an addiction, but it’s a positive addiction. There’s a sense of euphoria that’s like….well, like nothing else.”

• • •

Humans have demonstrated remarkable feats of endurance for centuries. The modern marathon has its roots in ancient Greece: According to somewhat fuzzy historic accounts, in 490 B.C. a messenger ran more than 25 miles from Marathon to Athens carrying word of the Greeks’ victorious battle over the Persians. To symbolize that legendary run, the marathon foot race was established at the first modern Olympic Games in 1896. A dozen years later at the 1908 London Olympics, today’s official marathon distance (26 miles and 385 yards) was established so the course could begin at Windsor Castle and end in front of the Royal Box.

The marathon pretty much stood alone as the human endurance test until the 1970s. Then came the Human Potential Movement, the Me Generation, and suddenly it seemed like everyone was running and cycling progressively longer distances. “I think it was all related to that sense of powerless that came out the Vietnam War and the Civil Rights Movement,” suggests Kostman. “There was this focus on the individual, on people doing things for and by themselves.”

Marathons soon sprouted up in cities around the U.S. Hawaii’s famed Ironman Triathlon began in 1978. Ultra-marathons, or ?ultras?(by definition, anything longer than a traditional marathon distance, but often 50 kilometers or 50 miles long) soon followed. In the early 1980s came ultra-marathon cycling. “It was all very simple and straightforward,” Kostman says of ultra-marathon cycling’s roots. “People would pick two spots on a map, ride it, set a time, and others would try to break it. That’s how the sport got started.”

Kostman jumped in the game early. At age 14, he was already riding centuries (100 miles). By age 16, he decided he wanted to set a record cycling the 470 miles from San Francisco to Los Angeles. He completed his quest in 31 hours and 13 minutes–and the next week, someone eclipsed it. The following year, Kostman broke that record. And so on.

For Kostman, it all began with an inherent love for cycling. “I wasn’t driving yet, and cycling opened up my world,” he explains. “I could roll out my driveway and go the beach or the mountains or San Diego. The first day I got my bike, I rode to Mt. Baldy. I had lived within sight of this 10,000-foot mountain my whole life, and had never been on it. Cycling put me in touch with the landscape, with geography. The point wasn’t necessarily to go far–it was to go somewhere.”

That concept remains key in the events Kostman hosts today. There are endurance races, he notes, that take place entirely on one-mile tracks and in swimming pools. “But who cares?” he argues. “You’re not going to learn anything running 262 miles in a circle. It needs to be a celebration of adventure and travel. That’s why I put on these events–to provide a dramatic forum for life-changing experiences.”

For most athletes, the endurance element factors heavily into that equation. “There’s a singularity of purpose–to compete at these levels, you need to drop everything else you deal with on a day-to-day basis,? explains Kostman, who has completed everything from snowshoe and bike races across Alaska to the Race Across America. ?For most people, their brain is so removed from their body. But these kinds of races create this incredible awareness. You need to focus on your pacing, hydration, nutrition, range of motion…you get to know yourself on physiological, psychological, and emotional levels.”

Indeed, most endurance athletes seem to share this keenness for tracking and analyzing and documenting their efforts. Post-race diaries are ubiquitous, many posted on the Internet, detailing everything from what they ate to where they changed their socks. “There’s definitely an obsessive-compulsive quality to it,” agrees Boeder, who took the race-diary concept a step further, publishing two books rich with description: Beyond the Marathon: The Grand Slam of Trail Ultrarunning and Hardrock Fever: Running 100 miles in Colorado’s San Juan Mountains. “Lots of runners are engineers or computer people. You need to be very organized for these races. There’s a lot of planning and logistics–arranging travel, planning your food, organizing a crew.”

For some competitors, the intense focus stems from something even deeper. Boeder openly discusses what fuels his compulsion to run. “I was a heavy drinker and drug abuser in my twenties and thirties,” he reveals. “In my forties, I cleaned up and found running to be good therapy. It just sang to me right from the get go.”

He began by running a mile or two, then entering short races, then his first marathon in 1983. “I liked the people, and I liked the challenge,” he explains. “And there’s nothing like the feeling when every endorphin and every hormone in your body kicks in. It’s a natural high, a celebration of life. Everybody who does this says their biggest fear is not being able to run.”

At age 58, Boeder runs every single day, tallying 65 miles a week, and ramping that up to 85 miles a week if a race is coming up. He runs a marathon virtually every month. Does he ever not look forward to it, ever not want to run? “Not really,” he says simply. “I don’t feel right if I don’t run. That’s the obsessive part, I guess. But it’s positive. If you have that kind of personality, it’s best to channel it this way, rather than into narcotics or overeating or what have you.”

Competition clearly exists, with plenty of gamesmanship going on in the front ranks. “Of course there’s competition,” responds Kostman, who scoffs at the idea that people enter “just to finish.” “No one goes to Hawaii to run, swim and bike (ala the Ironman) by themselves. People want some degree of measuring against others.”

But there also is a clear camaraderie and mutual respect among endurance athletes. Just as mountain bikers meet up at Moab or surfers gather at certain wave breaks, theirs is a supremely fit subculture that continually regroups at races throughout the country. They bond over their ordeals, their accomplishments, their elite level of fitness.

While outsiders may dismiss them as “crazies,” endurance athletes in turn see a couch-potato society that “is just so damn easy,” declares Kostman, a sentiment echoed by athlete after athlete. “Most of America is turning into fat slobs. They use the drive-through, the remote control…Some of us are just looking for a challenge, a way to hark back to the days when we used our bodies to survive, when we scavenged for food.”

Kostman even takes a jab at latest twist on endurance events, multisport, team racing competitions like the Eco-Challenge. “We are a culture of jack-of-all-trades-master-of-none,” he suggests. “We only want to dabble. Those races offer a false sense of security. Most of those folks couldn’t cut it in a Badwater.”

• • •

Jonathan Boyer, the renegade road racer who plowed his way into the endurance-athlete world in the Race Across America, seemed to understand all this from the start. After nine days on a bicycle, hollow and haggard from sleep deprivation and pure exhaustion, he wheeled onto the Atlantic City boardwalk a mere four hours ahead of Michael Secrest.

“If you have enough willpower and you want something badly enough,? he had said, somewhere along a lonely strip of Tennessee pavement, “you can get your body to do anything. Anything.”

–end–

TINA LASSEN is a nationally published freelance writer. Her travel features and personality profiles have appeared in National Geographic Adventure, Northwest Airlines World Traveler, Outside, Country Living, Better Homes and Gardens, the Chicago Tribune Sunday travel section, Bicycling, and several other magazines. She is the author of National Geographic’s Guide to America’s Outdoors: The Great Lakes, and the Michigan Handbook, published by Moon Publications of Emeryville, California.

Tina also owns Pen & Inc Business Communications, Ltd., a writing studio she founded in 1988. Tina writes image brochures, annual reports, catalogs, employee magazines, video scripts and other business communications for a variety of corporations and advertising agencies. Her clients include The Gillette Co., Strong Funds, Honeywell Corp., The Kohler Co., Fiskars and Promega Corp. She has won numerous awards from the International Association of Business Communicators.

In her free time, Tina enjoys alpine skiing, windsurfing, hiking and paddling. She lives in Hood River, Oregon.

2000 Official Finsher

Badwater was everything I expected and then some, very challenging but doable. Quitting never entered my mind, spending a week finishing did. The temp at the start line was 99 degrees and progressively went up to 128 by mile 33 near Scotty’s Castle turnoff at 2:15 pm. The first problem was a hot spot on the ball of my left foot. I stopped for 12 minutes and placed a gel pad under the hot spot. This did not work so stopped 1 mile latter and taped the hot spot with some 2″ Elasticon. This was about the last problem I had with my feet. I did end up putting the gel pad back under the taped spot, as the ball of my foot had become very sore. By mile 38 my stomach had turned sour and I slowed my pace from 14 to 18 minute miles. The stomach settled down and I was able to make it in to Stove Pipe Wells for a one hour twenty five minute break. I returned to the course just before 7pm and the temp had dropped down to 116. For the next 12 miles I walked and ran with Johann Pratscher , and then spent some time run…ok walking with Rick Nawrocki. Rick has been an inspiration as he has battled cancer off and on for the past few years but never gave up. For me this was a major highlight of the race. Night came quickly and the temp dropped to 81 degrees at the top of 4900′ Towne’s Pass, 58 miles. By now it was 12am and time for another long break. Started running again at 1:30am, each time I started after a break it was a real struggle to run/walk. Now is the time I wanted to get some fast miles in, I know 12 min miles doesn’t sound like much but that is what I had wanted to do through this section. 18 to 20 min miles is all I could muster.

By mile 63 I had diarrhea, not a good sign. I struggled with this for the next 4 hours I made it 67 miles in the first 27 hours, I knew there was no way I could buckle having only made it about half way. Oops, coming in to Panamint Springs I lost the diarrhea battle and had to walk close to a mile feeling very uncomfortable. Changed my shorts at Panamint and used some Desenex for the diaper rash that had developed between the cheeks. Damn that stuff stings…I see why babies cry when you use it on them. The manufactures of that crap should have to try their own product. Feeling somewhat refreshed I headed up toward Father Crowley, after climbing a couple thousand feet the fresh feeling left. It was again a struggle all the way to the 5000′ elevation sign at mile 87. The smoke from local fires was starting to cover the valley. You could see ash drift down to the valley floor. The sun had become obscured and was a beautiful red ball. After checkpoint #4 at 90 mile I felt much better, a friend and first and only pacer joined me. I had no idea he was going to run with me as his job was to escort me to the top of Whitney on Sunday. It felt great to get out of my own head and talk to somebody. We walked for 10 miles and I got my second wind and started running. I did some quick math and realized I could buckle if I kept it up.

My pacer decided to save his energy for Whitney as he was coming off an injury and had not been running much. I forged on and made it to Lone Pine at 11:36pm. Still full of energy I headed up Portal road for the final 13 miles. Within a few miles I was face first in the gravel on the side of the road. The wheels had come off. This is what I call a Marlin Perkins moment. I felt as of I had been shot with an animal tranquilizer and could not move. People where talking to me but I was unresponsive. I could hear and see them but was immobile. It only lasted about 10 minutes, and I was able to continue on at a blistering 36 minute pace. This was the worst part of the race, looking back I believe I was so excited about being able to finish well under the 48-hour mark I stopped doing the things needed to take care of myself. I had been refusing food and drinking very little.

About 2 miles from the top I got my legs back and renewed energy. I started running and did not stop until the finish. A day of rest and then on to the top of Mt. Whitney. We started up the trail at 4:00am Sunday morning. The air was filled with smoke from local forest fires. The trip up was uneventful. I only saw 1 runner, Scott Weber and crew. We spoke for a few minutes and tossed some arrows back and forth for a few switchbacks and that was the last I saw of them until my return. I pushed very hard and made it to the top in 5 hours and 22 minutes. I have no idea if that is a good time or not all I know is that was all I had left When I reached the top I broke in to tears…it was very emotional as I had trained so many hours to accomplish this goal. Stuck around the top long enough to see Adam Bookspan , Michael Styllas and Chris Moon arrive at the top. I also saw Rick Nawrocki, Barbra Elia and Scott Weber on my way back down.The return trip was pure hell. I did not enjoy the scenery after the first 5 miles. It was just one foot in front of the other with no thought other than forward movement.

I would like to thank my Crew Vivian McQueeney, Shannon McQueeney, Pat Smith and Dan Anderson for helping me through all the rough times. Without your help this would not have been possible. Also to Scott Weber my coach, thanks for the leasons and encouragement over the past year, I have learned so much from you.

“Fainting is Normal”

We were almost on schedule for my 48 hour goal when blisters began to be a real problem just over Towne Pass. Looking back, I would pre-tape and listen to my crew chief, Kawika Spaulding, and bring 4 pair of shoes in ever-increasing sizes. I cut the sides out of my New Balance 9 * EEEE’s to make room on the left side. This foot is worse as I once developed DVT (deep vein thrombosis) while in a cast for an Achilles’s rupture. The circulation is still not good. My right shoe was a Rockport walking shoe size 11 borrowed from Cousin Bob. It no longer fit. I walked into our Keeler stop carrying my shoes. Norman Allan, a massage therapist and crew member offered me some size 14 walking shoes which I could get on with two socks on the right foot. Some of you may have seen Norman barefoot on the course in temps up to 120. I needed him to patch the blisters first. As I sat soaking my feet in Betadyne, I had a sudden sickness in my stomach. Next thing I knew I was off in a strange dream. Norman brought me back to consciousness but I still wasn’t sure where I was. I eventually declared it unsafe to continue and asked my crew to drop me from the race and take me to the hotel in Lone Pine. I was afraid to shower lest I faint again so I just went to bed. Having only 2 hours sleep in 48 made it easy to drop off. But in just two hours my room was invaded by all 4 crew with Bill Kinney and

Bill Hole, Cousin Bob, Denise Jones and Matt Spaulding on the phone from Mammoth. Denise declared she was there to tape me up and get me going as I still had time to make the cutoff. I was sure they had not told her about passing out and that she would let me off the hook with that news. “That’s normal,” she said. “It happens all the time out here.” She went on with the taping. I just lay in bed not believing I was going to be sent back. I hadn’t fainted due to dehydration as my hydration was good and I wasn’t cramping. My BP tanked probably due to lack of sleep and maybe food, and because I sat down after being on my feet for so long. The two

Bill’s drove me back to Keeler and threw me out of the van next to my stake. I made Portal Road with 5 hours to go. I was pleased to see Ben and Denise as well. Denise seemed happy her work paid off. Sakurai, the great Japanese athlete and 3rd place finisher was kind enough to cross the street to encourage me. We had spoken at registration and he tolerated my primitive Japanese. It was good to know the elite runners want to see us all get in. By 4.4 miles to go on the map I was sure to miss the 60 hour cutoff by about 15 minutes. I was not feeling good about this and barely kept going. Kawika was not around as his brother, Matt, was pacing me. He showed up at what should have been the 2 miles to go mark and said he had measured with the van and it was really 1.05 miles. That I could do. I picked up my walking pace and all the crew eventually fell in behind me. Ray Bell came down to tell me he thought I could make the cut. I slipped in 6 minutes under the cutoff. Thank goodness for crew and friends who don’t give up on you even when you give up on yourself.