The Essays

Plodding my way through the Grindstone 100

First off, I'll briefly say that I had a successful outing at Grindstone.  I managed to plod my way along the 100-mile course to a mediocre finish of 31+ hours. It rained nearly 27 of those 31 hours, so was definitely not the most pleasant ultra I've done. Many of the climbs, while not technical, were quite notable as well. My only goal was a finish and to secure a Hardrock/WS qualifier.  I was monumentally undertrained, and went in treating it like a thru-hike...so there was lots of power hiking.  Still, I was thrilled to come away with finish and a qualifier.  I may put together a race report yet, as I did have a few bizarre experiences on this course (e.g. a very close bear encounter, and about 45 minutes of running off course).  If I do, it will end up here at some point.

On to the Essays......

Over the years, I've had many ask me about my Barkley Marathons Essays.  It has become public knowledge at this point, especially since the release of the documentary, that every applicant must submit an essay titled "Why I should be allowed to run the Barkley Marathons".  There are varying opinions by the Barkley community and veterans on what makes a "good essay", and there are many approaches people take to try to potentially woo the race director (Laz).  Often, people simply go with the "here's my awesome/impressive resume" approach, or the "I'm so tough, I never DNF, and I never quit" approach.  Sometimes, people will go for an inspirational approach, or even the more risky hubris angle of, "I'm so awesome, your course won't beat me", which has the potential to get Laz fired up to prove that applicant wrong.  It's a risky approach that can backfire horribly, but often the hubris angle does pay off.  What I've learned over the years, is that there really is no perfect equation...and a lot of it is just luck or random chance.  Maybe in some rare cases, the essay really does matter; it's hard to say, and honestly I think it's best that way. If there were a known formula, then it just wouldn't be the same.  I have no idea the reaction Laz has had to my essays.  He may have enjoyed them, maybe he hated them, or maybe he just rolled his eyes at them and said, "how many times will I read this same essay!"

Frozen Ed shared all of his essays over the years in his book, and it gives readers a tiny window into what goes through the heads of Barkley applicants from year to year.  Sometimes it really comes down to how you're feeling the day you send in your application.  Often times, you'll spend days composing the "perfect" essay, only to delete it all and write a few haphazard sentences before hitting  "send" in a blur of uncertainty.  Other than Ed's essays, I've never read any other applicant's essays, save for the occasional one that is shared online or via email.  I honestly have no idea what other people are writing...only what Ed has written, and what I have written.

I've never had a specific approach to my essays, and they have always varied from year to year.  I've also known full well, that there's a very real possibility they aren't even being truly read...but merely skimmed over in the madness that is probably several hundred submitted essays that find their way to laz during the application period.

I have never publicly shared my essays, nor really told anyone specifics about any of them. I have always regarded them as something I would keep to myself. Lately though, my thought on this has evolved.  I am dealing with the reality that I very likely won't be applying this year and it has stirred in me a desire to partially close a chapter on my own Barkley book, and publish it for the world.  I have submitted 5 separate essays now, each with their own character and personality.  When I go back and read through them now, it's almost nostalgic in a way.  I can also see how my entire mental and emotional connection to the Barkley changes each year, and how my level of respect for the course grows.  Also, I see coming through my words the realization on just how much of an outlier 2012 was, and how the cold truth is I will almost assuredly never finish Barkley again.  So many things went perfectly right that year, and even with my fun-run redemption in 2014, I doubt I will ever be able to put together the perfect year I had in 2012 again.  

So....posted below are my 5 essays spanning 2012 - 2016.  Take them for what they are...a little piece of something that has been so very important to me for the past 5 years.  These essays are incredibly personal to me.  They may just be silly words to all of you, but to me they represent some of the most difficult words I've ever had to put to paper. You'd think answering the question of "why do you want to run Barkley" would be easy.  For me it has been one of the most difficult to really answer...and arguably after 5 years may still be at least partially unanswered for me.  I wanted to share these personal memories with you all.

One parting thought.  My final essay contained this quote, "One might think that I have already come to find or discover what I was meant to at Barkley, but this is simply not true."  

Well, this year at the Barkley, I walked off of the course (thereby quitting) near the end of my 2nd loop, but, with a smile on my face.  I was in decent shape to continue...well-fed, warm, hydrated, etc.  I had simply come to the realization that after 5 years, I had finally arrived at what I was looking for on the course. I sat on the trail for over an hour just admiring the perfect stars without a care in the world.  Then, I walked down into camp with a smile and a truly earned sense of contentment.  It has been a wonderful journey over the years, and I'm honored and humbled to have been able to share it with you all...

THE ESSAYS:

2012

Laz,

Well, the time has come and I would like to formally request entry into the 2012 Barkley Marathons, aka Barkley 100, aka Barkley 100 miles-of-torture, aka The Race That Eats Its Young.

(PLEASE NOTE:  While you read this, I am very literally working at a remote field camp in West Antarctica.  My internet access is very limited here, but I assure you that I CAN still respond and send you any additional information as needed.  It just may take an extra day or two.  I am also in contact with several people back home via satellite phone if it comes to that.  I return back to the States at the end of January.)

"Why I Should Be Allowed To Run The Barkley"

Originally I had this grand plan to send you an elaborate essay where I would immediately jump into all of the reasons why I think I'm "qualified" to run the Barkley.  I was going to list all of my ultrarunning, thru-hiking, and various other accomplishments and achievements in hopes that it might convince you that I have the "drive" or "tenacity" to actually do well at the 2012 race (or at least better than the other virgin applicants).  I was going to try to relay to you my stubbornness and my ability to push through what I considered extreme situations.  I was undoubtedly going to mention that I don't have a single DNF on my record either and that when I set a goal, I complete it.   blah, blah, blah....you've heard it all before.

In all of my countless hours of internet research on the Barkley and in all of my conversations with fellow runners about it, I've learned one valuable thing:  You can be the best of the best of the best....and still fail miserably out there.  We are all scum of the earth....measly mortals when faced against the beast.  You can end up leaving the yellow gate on what looks to be an "in-the-bag" lap 5, and end up talking to imaginary friends while sitting in a mud puddle.  I've come to realize that nothing about the Barkley is "normal" for an ultrarun.  When you leave that gate, you are stepping into that proverbial boxing ring.  On one side is you...oh so tiny and insignificant, and on the other is the Barkley Course itself.  You can be completely trained, completely confident, and completely ready...but still be knocked out and beaten by the course in the first round.  Like Ed said in his book, you can spout off all you want about how you "never quit", but at the Barkley, you can still lose to the course....and lose miserably....embarrassingly. 

So, with all that said, and with all the knowledge I've been able to glean from various resources, I do still want the humbling experience of participating in the 2012 Barkley Marathons.  I want to feel what it's like to push myself to the absolute extreme point of whimpering in a corner, only to get kicked again while down.   So I ask that you give me the opportunity to be tortured and maimed...so that I may call myself a Barkley Runner.

Thank you, and I hope that you give me a shot at being one of the few 2012 Barkley virgins.  

-John Fegy, Representing Antarctica (and/or Pennsylvania)

2013

Laz,

It has taken me a long time to decide whether or not to send you this email, but ultimately, as you are now reading it, that decision was made.

"Why I Should Be Allowed To Run The Barkley.......Again."

I have thought for a long time about what I might say to you if I were to submit another application to the Barkley Marathons.  In all that time of thinking, I never did come up with any sort of array of profundities or overly-inspirational motives to spill into this email.  The honest truth as to why I should be allowed to run again in 2013, is not because of any obvious or cliche' reason as one might assume.  It's not because I feel that I "deserve" to, or because I'm "worthy", because I "earned it", or because I'm that "Antarctica guy" (or any other crap like that).  Frankly I don't think anyone truly earns it.

Quite simply the reason I'm sending this application in....is because:  I am Haunted.  Constantly.  I am haunted by disbelief. Every single day since I left Frozen Head State Park on April 2nd, I think about what happened, and my experience participating in the Barkley Marathons.  But, every day that passes, the less I actually believe it really happened.  I think back to specific memories I have of being lost on the course, getting water from a creek, picking ticks off of myself, or laughing alongside Alan...and I start to wonder if it wasn't just a dream.  I look at results listings and postings on the internet that list my name, but somehow I no longer believe it.  I email Ed Furtaw and ask him, "Did I really finish?  Was I really there?"  He assures me I did, and that I was.  I see pictures at the finish of me touching the yellow gate and it simply feels that it can't be so.  It has been tearing me up.  I've seen so many people say online that I "shouldn't have finished", that I'm not an "elite runner", or that I just got "really lucky"....and sometimes I actually start to believe them.

But then I think about how damn hard I trained.  How many God-awful hill repeats I did....over and over and over and over....    How I spent 15+ hours every weekend training on hills and trails.  how I did two-a-day workouts during the week (every week) of more hills, and how I studied that Frozen Head map for months.  I think about how I sat every single night at the dinner table down in Antarctica while others were playing cribbage and poker, and I studied race reports and scribbled down notes and compass bearings.  I tell myself that I did finish dammit...and it was because I trained hard enough, and wanted it badly enough.  But then I wake up the next day and I don't believe it again. In a way, I've tried to mentally "Earn" my Barkley finish by spending the rest of this year pounding out countless ultras.  I've run harder, and at more races this year, than during any previous year.  I thought finishing Badwater would somehow make my Barkley finish feel more real.  It didn't.  I thought perhaps finally breaking 25 hours at Leadville would make me accept my Barkley finish as non-fantasy.  It didn't.  I even thought that if I simply ran a large volume of races, I could somehow earn my Barkley finish.  After a long year of racing multiple ultras (Five 100-milers), I still fail to believe that Barkley really happened.  Why?

So, back to the question at hand.  I should be allowed to run the Barkley, because, quite simply, I need to experience it again...in person.  I need its very presence to course through my veins.  I need to stand in the park and take it in again, during a race, so that I can truly remember and be a part of it.  I want to know that it really happened, and that it wasn't a fluke of luck.  That measly ol' middle-of-the-packer me....could walk up to that gate during Fool's Weekend in 2013, and make some sort of magic happen again.   And perhaps prove to myself once and for all, that it did really happen, and that I am capable. 

...or I'll crawl back to camp whimpering like baby after 1 loop and realize that it in fact was just a dream.   A Very BAD one.

I hope to see you there Laz,

-John (Antarctica and/or Pennsylvania)

P.S.  Actually the real reason is just because I want to buy you a pack of smokes and then hide them under a rock half-way down Checkmate Hill.

OBLIGATORY HAIKU:

Not all pain is gain

Observe the march of the fools.

What were we thinking?

2014

Laz, ....a story first.....

On February 13, 1996, in Philadelphia Pennsylvania, Gary Kasparov, a legendary chess master, walked into a room and sat down to play a third game of chess against IBM's Deep Blue computer....

Three days prior, on the 10th, Kasparov was beaten by Deep Blue...marking the first time that a chess-playing computer defeated a reigning world champion chess player.  What he had originally thought in his mind would be another quick exercise in formality, demonstrating that the instincts of a human player will always better those of an artificial intelligence, was violently thrown into disarray when he was forced to resign after just 37 moves.  It suddenly dawned on him that this would not be a "walk in the park", and that he would have to earn it....to fight for it.

On the 2nd night (Feb 11th), Kasparov went in prepared.  He sat down, and began by employing a Catalan Opening technique.  The game was trying, and lasted for 73 moves, but eventually resulted in Deep Blue's resignation.  Kasparov now had his confidence back as the match was now tied 1 to 1.

So, coming back to this third night, Kasparov wanted to keep his momentum going.  This time, he began with a Sicilian Defense to which Deep Blue responded with the Alapin Variation.  After 39 moves, the game resulted in a draw with 1/2 point being awarded to each player.  It would be the same story on the fourth night as that game also ended in a draw.

On the fifth and penultimate night, Kasparov knew he needed a win to at least ensure an overall tie.  Leading with a Four Knights technique, Kasparov was quickly overpowered and it looked as though he'd lose.  He offered a draw, but Deep Blue's team refused, overconfident they'd get the win.  After just 23 moves, Kasparov had turn the tide of the game and come out on top with a victory (which was particularly embarrassing for the Deep Blue Team)

On the last night, Kasparov solidified his place as the ultimate chess master, when after 43 moves, he again came out with the victory, securing an overall score of 4 to 2 for the entire 6-game match.

Sadly...one year later, IBM challenged Kasparov to a rematch, and this time Deep Blue came out on top, besting Kasparov after 6 games by a total of 3.5 to 2.5.   After that match, Kasparov's career was destroyed because in his anger at losing, he had accused the Deep Blue team of cheating.  This accusation brought him shame in his home Russia, and he eventually faded into somewhat obscurity....

SO, on to The Barkley,

("Why I Should Be Allowed To Run The Barkley.......Again......AGAIN....")

In 2012, I came to Frozen Head as a nobody.  No one would have bet a single cent on my finishing the impossible.  Somehow, someway, I got it done.  I pulled out every ounce of will I had, and had a lot of luck on my side.  This past year (2013), I came to Frozen Head, more prepared, but was defeated rather handily.  I came shivering down from the fire tower, utterly and completely humiliated.  The Barkley had eaten me alive.  It was humbling, yet it was exhilarating and wonderful.  Later that weekend, I watched in awe as my friend Travis touched the gate for his fifth lap and it nearly brought me to tears.

I have had another full year to think about going back to Frozen Head.  As much as I loved my time playing at Vol State this summer, there is something about touching that gate at Frozen Head that can never be equaled.  The people, the mountains, the camaraderie, the climbs, the bushwacking, the compass-work, the camping, the misery, and yes....even the chicken.

I am Kasparov.  I defeated Deep Blue in 2012, and was crushed in 2 moves (loops) in 2013.  So I ask that you let me come back in 2014 to break the tie...and win the match.  I realize that space is very limited and there are so many that would love a chance to run.  2014 will be the last year of my PhD and could very well be the last year I'll be able to train and run the Barkley for a long while.  So I ask that you give me another chance to defeat the machine, before whatever post-doc life takes me over.

Here are some words I wrote to you back in my 2012 application essay:

"I've come to realize that nothing about the Barkley is "normal" for an ultrarun.  When you leave the gate, you are stepping into that proverbial boxing ring.  On one side is you...oh so tiny and insignificant, and on the other is the Barkley Course itself.  you can be completely trained, completely confident, and completely ready...but still be knocked out and beaten by the course in the first round.  Like Ed said in his book, you can spout off all you want about how you "never quit", but at the Barkley, you can still lose to the course....and lose miserably....embarrassingly."

These words were in a sense prophetic.  In 2012 Laz, I won.  I beat the course.  But in 2013, I lost miserably.....embarrassingly.  What might 2014 bring?

-john fegy (PA)

Lyrics from "Deep Blue" a song from acoustic artist Peter Mulvey,

"After all the dance was done and after all the big boys left the room...did you take the time to savor your sweet doom?   You went deep....as deep you could go....but there's a deeper blue than you."

OBLIGATORY HAIKU:

I will fight Deep Blue

Inevitable check mate

Just five easy loops

2015

Laz, ("Why I Should Be Allowed To Run The Barkley.......Again.....Again......AGAIN....")

"Although we live with the expectation that the world is fully visible and exhaustively known, we also want and need places that allow our thoughts to roam unimpeded.  The hidden and remarkable places are havens for the geographical imagination.  Map makers, cartographers, and surveyors alike play their part for modernity by eliminating doubt and attaining panoptic knowledge.  Yet modernity also gives us the self-questioning and self-doubting consciousness that permits us to understand that we lose something in its attainment.  Interest in phantom, hidden, or undiscovered geographical oddities is growing.  There are countless shifting and potentially doubtful phenomena out there, including cartographic "facts" like the shape of nations, borders, mountains, parks, rivers, and trails that will continue to disturb our geographical certainties.  The truth is, we want a world that is not totally known and that has the capacity to surprise us.  As our information sources improve and become ever more complete, the need to discover new places that are defiantly off the maps becomes more intriguing and provoking.  As new hidden places are newly discovered or uncovered, it hints at the possibility that perhaps the age of discovery is not quite over."

I came across this text (paraphrased) as I was reading a new book I picked up titled, "Unruly Places"....a book that highlights strange geographical oddities around the world and a need to explore that still exists in many of us.  Needless to say it got me thinking about Barkley again.  Last year I finished on a high note with my fun run, and certainly it could be argued that I have nothing left to prove...and that I should gracefully bow out.  But what I have come to realize over my 38 years, is that I have an unnatural fascination with exploration.  I've spent many many hours/days/years trying to understand what is at the root of this fascination within me, and after years of coming back to it, I think I've finally been able to put a small finger on it.  I think there are just some people that are born into this world that are meant to be explorers.  Thinking back to many of the classic explorers of old (Shackleton, Scott, Amundsen, etc), they all seem to have had a deep-down drive to go to uncharted places.  To see the unseen and to set foot on the un-touched ground.  The problem is in today's 21'st century, so many of the places on Earth have already been "found", leaving the explorers among us, striving to find new ways to "explore".  For me, I think perhaps I was born in the wrong century, as I  do seem to have this unexplainable desire to "set forth" and go out not just to the edges of world, but to the oddities of the world.  I want to see and appreciate places, that very few if any others have the way I do.  I want my resume of visited places to be full of superlatives, extremes, and oddities when I finally leave this world.  Many many people have asked me why the hell I would want to go to some of the places I go to, and I find it extremely difficult to explain it in words.  It's a feeling I have, and a need that I must fulfill from time to time.  It is one of the things that truly brings me a sense of contentment, and I will continue to seek out unique places for as long as I am able.  It is also part of the reason I found myself doing research for 5 seasons down in Antarctica.

One might think that I have already come to find or discover what I was meant to at Barkley, but this is simply not true.  Certainly there are the countless places I've yet to physically see within Frozen Head, but I speak more of the places that the Barkley allows me to explore within.  I have yet to find another experience that has allowed me to explore so deeply within (except for maybe my PCT thru-hike).  Each of my three years at Barkley has been immeasurably different with regards to my inner-exploration and I know I still have more to "see".  The Barkley has become my family, the course my home, and the other runners, my friends.  I'm not sure that I deserve an entry this year or not, and many might argue that I should give up a possible spot for another, but I have found that as long as my sense of discovery and adventure is alive and thriving within me, I must continue to explore.  It is at the Barkley that I may best do this.

I hope to see you fools weekend Laz,

-John Fegy   -   (representing Pennsylvania)

2015 Haiku

Unruly places

Explore Frozen Head again

Discover within

2016
Laz, (Why I should be allowed to run the Barkley Marathons)

Sitting in my dorm room in McMurdo Station Antarctica, waiting to deploy to South Pole Station, and many Barkley thoughts have been weighing heavy on my mind. There is a place here on station dedicated to the historical explorers with many famous quotes and tales of their expeditions. Many of the quotes bring me right back to my failures at Frozen Head, particularly those from Scott’s doomed quest for the pole. I’ve replaced a few words to make the quotes more relatable...

“Great God! This is an awful place and terrible enough for us to have laboured to it without the reward of priority”.

“[I] shall stick it out to the end, but [I am] getting weaker of course and the end cannot be far. It seems a pity, but I do not think I can write more…”

“Had we survived, I should have had a tale to tell of the hardihood, endurance, and courage of my companions and I which would have stirred the heart of every [runner]. These rough notes and our [broken] bodies must tell the tale.”

Last year I wrote you about Unruly Places. Places that are at the geographical and metaphorical edges of our world. Places that I long to find. I say this to you now, literally 24 hours from setting foot at the south pole of our lovely world. In just one day, I will be standing atop a place, where every direction is North, farther and more remote than anywhere. I tried to explain this desire I have in me to get to these places (both physically and mentally), but couldn’t really put my finger on it. Recently, I found myself re-reading Melville’s Moby Dick and this passage explained it better than I ever could. The Barkley is my great whale, and I am tormented by it. Someone has undoubtedly made this connection before to you, but for me, I only just discovered the incredible similarities…..

"Chief among the motives, was the overwhelming idea of the great whale himself (i.e. The Barkley). Such a portentous and mysterious monster roused all my curiosity. Then the wild and distant seas (i.e. Frozen Head) where he rolled his island bulk; the undeliverable, the nameless perils of the whale; these, with all the attending marvels of a thousand Patagonian sights and sounds, helped to sway me to my wish. With other men, perhaps, such things would not have been inducements; but as for me, I am tormented with an everlasting itch for things remote. I love to sail the forbidden seas, and land on barbarous coasts. not ignoring what is good, I am quick to perceive a horror, and could still be social with it.”

This past year, I decided the fire was not in me and I gave up my spot for another runner. This was a very difficult decision, only made harder by the fact that so many others ended up dropping as well. I attended the event, watched as Jamil, Johan, John, Rob, Heather, and others inspired with their performances. I was happy for them, but I most certainly had a part of me that was empty because of it. Watching the runners head up Bird Mountain on loop 1 was hard, not being among them.

So I ask you to let me return. Let me return and go after my great white whale once again. I know slots are even more coveted/rare this year, but I will come trained and prepared to give it another honest go.

-John Fegy (now representing Vermont)

2016 Haiku:

Wicked Great White Whale
Dear God, what an awful place
Everlasting itch

I’ll leave you with this final quote:

"We are weak, writing is difficult, but for my own sake I do not regret this journey, which has shown that we can endure hardships, help one another, and meet death with as great a fortitude as ever in the past. We took risks, we knew we took them; things have come out against us, and therefore we have no cause for complaint, but bow to the will of Providence, determined still to do our best to the last."

-Robert Falcon Scott

Remember...nothing, is impossible

See you out on the trails everyone....

and never stop exploring.

-j

Mountain Masochist and Another NJ 24-Hr

The Barkley Crew finishing the Mountain Masochist

...This will be a rather short update....

The end of the year is quickly approaching and the ultra season is winding down.  I may (or may not) still have an event or two on the schedule, but for all intents and purposes things are slowing down.  The hex screws have made their way back into my old running shoes, the cold weather is here, and I am bracing myself for another long and cold winter.  Needless to say I have seriously considered picking up a used treadmill for this winter as last year was really tough on me.  If Craigslist has shown me anything, it's that college kids sell stuff extremely cheap...including treadmills.

I've been on a bit of a roller coaster since my last update here.  I have had two incredibly fun ultra events that I was able to take part in, but on the academic side of the world, things have been a little more frustrating.  It is looking with a high level of certainty that I will be postponing my graduation now until May to give myself a little more time to find a suitable post-doc or job.  Official word on proposals have not come down yet either, so both my advisor and I agree that postponing is probably the best option.  It is EXTREMELY upsetting to not be able to turn in my finished dissertation yet, but at least a May graduation would mean my family could come.  Thankfully, my advisor does have enough funding to keep me on for 6 more months....something of which I'm enormously grateful.   Looks like I'll have to wait a few more months before I can officially call myself Doctor.

A few weeks ago I had the incredible pleasure of running my first Mountain Masochist Trail Run.  What made the event particularly exciting was that I was invited to run the event alongside 3 Barkley alums:  Andrew Thompson, Jonathan Basham, and Travis Wildeboer.  This event is a yearly tradition for these guys and they've been running it for 17 years.  The MMTR is a David Horton event, so I actually had the great pleasure of sharing stories and coffee with 4 other Barkley finishers over the weekend.  Talk about a humbling group to be included in!

The best part about this particular race, is that these guys run it completely for fun and put aside their competitive natures.  In other words, they go out there and goof off around the course for nearly 12 hours, despite the very real possibility of crushing the course in easily under 9 hours for all three of them.  This sounded perfect for me as I was more interested in having a fun day, rather than a hard race.  The course, despite being mostly forest roads, still boasts and impressive 10,000 feet of gain.  It's definitely not an "easy" course.

The plan was simple: go out at an easy jog pace, and trot along just under the the time cut-off for the entire day.  We were purposely aiming for a 11:30-11:45 finish.   This plan played out perfectly.  We jogged easy and never stopped talking and laughing the entire day.  It was honestly the most fun I've ever had during an ultra.  We made our way around the 50 mile course and miles just flew by.  I can't remember the last time a race seemed to move along so quickly.  The bad weather held off (although we did get a little sleet), and the trip out on the "loop" and up to the high point peak was simply wonderful.  We stopped for a few pictures on top of the foggy peak before continuing on to the finish.  We hit the 42-mile aid station and were told we were 19 minutes ahead of the cutoff.  Perfect.  We continued at our pace and eased down the final few miles on the road towards the finish.  We crossed the line to a smiling David Horton in 11:39 to finish off what was a simply perfect day.  His exact words to us were, "It's about time you guys showed up!"

Just after finishing for the day!

The Barkley contingent in full force the day after with sore legs!

This past weekend I got talked into yet another ultra event.  Despite my daily runs picking up again, I knew I'd be less-than-rested after the Masochist to even attempt any serious go at an ultra.  Still, I couldn't resist the temptation to go out for loops with one of my favorite running groups out there: The NJ Trail Runners.  Last year I participated in what was my first 24-hour event at the inaugural NJ One Day in November.  I managed to complete a respectable 114 miles (3rd place) and hit the 100-mile mark under 20 hours (which was my primary goal).  After getting talked into running again this year, I went with an entirely different attitude.  2014 has been all about having fun, and so I didn't stress about quantity, and instead focused on quality.

I took it easy all day running the 1-mile loops around the Augusta Fairgrounds (the same course at 3-Days at the Fair).  I never really checked my pace, but just ran what felt fun.  My legs were definitely still un-recovered from Masochist, but I had a blast catching up with many of my NJ running friends.  Around me, some very incredible performances were unfolding....particularly with the women.  Maggie Gutterl and Sky Canaves both were shooting for 135+ miles.  It was simply incredible watching them both rack up the loops and in the end both achieving over 135 miles (Maggie with 142!!!!!).  Both qualified for the Women's national team.  On the men's side, Aaron Mulder won the event also passing 135 miles and qualifying for the Men's national team.

As for me, I was quite content to put out 108 fun miles, only 6 short of last year, and on much more tired and less trained legs.  One thing I can say for sure, you will never be disappointed at a NJ Trail Series event.  Even if it is running 1-mile loops around a paved course.

Maggie still smiling after her 142-mile record breaker

Smiling, laughing, and having fun early on in the loops.

Beautiful day for some miles for sure.

In other news, a very large group paper that I've been working on with my ice-core science collaborators has been officially published in the Journal of Glaciology.  May long hours and field seasons went into this large study.  You can browse through it if you'd like to see what my life is like outside the running, hiking, and various outdoor adventures...

http://www.igsoc.org/journal/60/224/j14j100.html

Lastly, today is in fact that one day of the year that I get to feel selfish...although at 38, I am definitely starting to not feel as young as I used to.  It's hard to believe in just 2 years I'll be a "Masters" runner.

To celebrate, I'm going to see Damien Rice live in concert tomorrow night up here in Montreal (where I've been partially living for the past week now).  I've been waiting to see him perform for upwards of 10 years now.  Should be fantastic.

happy trails and fun running everyone,

-j

2014 Barkley Marathons Run Report

Photo credits (John Price, Karen Jackson, Karine Comeau, et al.)

3-Loop Fun Run Finished (Just BARELY!!!)

I came into this year's Barkley run in a very different and unfamiliar mind-space than I had the previous two years........let me explain,

Back in 2012, I was completely and whole-heartedly all-consumed by the idea of finishing. My training was regimented and intense.  I was single in purpose and a goal of a sub-60 hour finish was my only option.  I had spent months studying every resource available, fallen asleep nightly dreaming of climbs and descents I'd never even seen in person, and imagined nothing greater than touching that yellow gate after 5 loops.  My schoolwork suffered a bit, I saw very little of friends, family, and loved-ones, and getting my daily hill workouts in was not optional....it was required.  It helped that we had fantastic weather that year, which made compass-navigating more feasible...and a finish more possible.  When somehow, I was able to pull off the impossible and actually finish, I wasn't quite sure how to feel.  Certainly it was incredible, and I knew I had earned something that no one would ever be able to take away, but I didn't know how it would affect my trail and ultrarunning in general.  I sort-of wandered for a bit and had trouble finding enjoyment out of other races for several months afterward.  I kind of had this nagging feeling of "what's next?".  It wasn't just that I finished either.  It was the entirety of the event.  I loved the people, the atmosphere, the culture, and the camaraderie of the Barkley.  It was a how an event should be in my mind.  When I showed up to some future races that year, I was turned-off by the sponsorships, the swag bags, the expos, and the corporate feeling.  I still had some fun at events like Hyner and Finger Lakes....but other events made me feel out of place.  I just wanted to go back to Frozen Head, to a place and an event that made me feel as I should.

When I got accepted for 2nd attempt last year, I was ecstatic to be going back.  I had been pining for it for almost a year and while tucked away in my little tent in Antarctica, I could think of nothing other than getting back out there and playing on the steep and briar-infested slopes at Frozen Head.  My training in 2013 was even more intense.  I pushed harder than I ever had in my life hitting 100+ mile weeks, 35,000' ascent weeks, and streaks lasting all winter.  I wanted to finish a 2nd time.  At least I thought I did.  I came to the 2013 Barkley more trained than for any other event in my life, even more so than the 2012 race.  Showing back up to Frozen Head was magical.  I was home again.  I played in the park for a week or so before the race and sucked the marrow out of it.  I got to be the veteran, giving advice (some good, some bad) to the virgins as they began to file in.  It was awesome.  I got to catch up with Brett, Travis, Jared, Carl, Nick and the Abbs' (along with many others).  It was truly magical.  When the race started, I comfortably, and strongly pushed out a quick 8:24 first lap in mediocre weather, still feeling great.  I knew that I was more trained and it was showing.  I was on great pace to finish again, even with the new course change.  But then something happened.  On loop 2, a whirlwind of things piled up on me and left me feeling empty.  I had stopped eating and the cold rain steered me into a hypothermic state.  A group of us got lost in the fog and I felt personally responsible for ruining their race.  My last quote that I remember uttering to Nick and Travis as we passed each on Rat Jaw on loop 2 was, "Guys.....I'm in a horrendously dark place right now...and it is so indescribably terrible".  Nick, trying to be encouraging said something along the lines of "Just don't quit at the tower!  Finish this loop dammit!".  But I did quit at the tower.  I stumbled down the mountain a cold, shivering, hypothermic, and depressed disaster.  Laz tapped me out and told me that even had I been legally finishing loop 2, he would have pulled me because I was shivering so badly.   I wasn't so much mad about quitting as I knew, for safety and health reasons, that it was likely the right thing to do, but I was confused and saddened by the horrible despondency and depression I was feeling.  I had never felt that way during an event before and it was simply awful.

As the following day went on, I found solace in becoming a member of Travis's crew and support.  In 2012, he and Alyssa were a big reason for my finish, so I got to feel like I was returning the favor.  Seeing he (and Nick) triumph was magical, and allowed me to find some peace out of the entire ordeal. When I got home I didn't run for a long time....weeks.  I couldn't find my center and I struggled with a lot of things.  I had lost sight of what it was that was important to me with regards to being outdoors and playing on trails, and my experience at the Barkley allowed me to realize this.  I slowly found my compass bearing again, and started up with the running...more cognizant of the aesthetics and beauty of the running, and not so much the number-crunching.  Gradually I found that happiness again, and ended up having an incredibly fun year playing at events like 3 Days, and Vol State.  I slowed down a bit in 2013, and like I said, I tried to enjoy the trails and roads more for what they were, and not for the times I might clock running on them.  It was a bit of a soul-search I had to go through I think, a sort-of running-epiphany....but one that I necessarily needed.  It was my failure at Barkley that made it possible.

So....when I applied for this year's Barkley, I wrote a very different kind of essay and had a very different mental goal for my run.  I knew, without question, that I would not be able to get in the training that I would really need, especially if the course change was to be at all significant (which it WAS!).  I have been in the final stages of writing up my doctoral thesis, and finding time to squeeze in the necessary hill workouts was an incredibly difficult struggle.  Still, I got in a fair amount...and enough to give me a small fighting chance.  The most important thing to me this year was to just enjoy as much time as I could on the course for whatever that meant.  I wanted to just be out there.  I also had made the decision beforehand that I would not forcefully latch on to anyone.  I would simply do my own thing, and if that meant I was around others great...but if others went ahead, that'd be great too.  I wanted to find myself on the course, and absorbing the experience within my own mind.  No ipods, no time-math, no crazy heart-rate monitoring....just me and the woods.   I had made a few other adjustments as well....like that I had decided that I would use my trekking poles this year...something that I had wished I had done last year.  I proved in 2012 that a stick works, but I missed my poles for sure.  I also carried a lot more clothing, rain gear, and food....so I was heavier.  I knew the forecast was not looking so great so I didn't want to screw around with hypothermia again.  There were also a lot of people I was really looking forward to meeting and catching up with this year.  People like Willy "Natureboy" Syndram (with whom I hiked the 75 miles of the Smokies on my AT thru-hike back in 07),  and Heather "Anish" Anderson, the current PCT speed record holder.  I knew other fast runners with large ultra resumes would be coming too...people like Jamil Coury and Eva Pastalkova, that I was looking forward to chatting with.  But as always, I was really looking forward to seeing the likes of the legends like Ed Furtaw, Matt Mahoney, Mike Dobies, Stu Gleman, and of course Laz himself.  I wanted a year to relish in, and remember, regardless of the outcome.  I knew in my heart, that this could be my last year participating in a while as I just don't know where I'll be, and what I'll be doing next year at this time.

THE REPORT:

This year I again came to Frozen Head a few days early, but mostly just to get myself in the right headspace, not so much to explore trails.  I did spend a few days making some trailed loops around the park, but mostly I just sat in my cheap motel room in Wartburg or my tent at Frozen Head working on my thesis.  As the week got closer to Friday, I was amazed at how slowly people were filing in to camp.  I thought for sure that more virgins would want as much time as possible to prod the veterans for useful info...but it seemed there was a general attitude this year of "ahhh...I'll just follow a veteran"  By Thursday afternoon people were still slowly trickling in, and I found myself settled in nicely at the site right next to my site from the previous 2 years.  I was sharing with a few others, and right next to the Abbs' and Jared.  It was a great little group.  I wandered around and met whom I could, caught up with those I knew, and chatted with the virgins.  I helped a few with map issues, tried to give hints where I could...but mostly just relaxed.  I did not do any running or hiking for the 2 days before the race.  I simply ate and took it easy.  On Friday afternoon, Laz put out the map and we all glared at it in horror as we envisioned the new 600+ foot climb that we'd now have to do (Hiram's Vertical Smile).  Last year's change, while not trivial, was still manageable.  This year though, it was going to definitely add some time onto loops.  It was quite significant....and we all knew it.  Even Jared knew it.  I prepped my gear, set up my car-aid-station, made my food bags, and wrote down all of my necessary compass headings on my two maps.  It all went fairly smoothly, and I was relaxing again by the time the chicken came out.  I enjoyed some lively banter up by the fire and traded some good Vol State and Barkley stories (particularly with Alan).  The general opinion around camp was that Laz was going to start the race early morning, but no one knew for sure.  I was guessing a 5 - 6 am start.  Sure enough the conch blew at 5:46 am waking me up in my tent after a very poor night's sleep.  

Talking chicken and Vol State with Alan and Nikki.

We all scrambled around getting our gear and supplies in order.  I burned through 20 minutes just taping and prepping my feet, but it was worth every minute of it.  Thankfully I had prepped my entire bag the night before so really just had to eat, and freshen up before heading up to the gate.  About 5 minutes before the cigarette, I checked in and took my place at the front of the gate.  I wanted to again take a spot near the front up Bird Mountain.  I knew Jared would likely go out first, but I had hoped to be not far behind.  At precisely 6:46 am, Laz lit the cigarette and we were off....

6:46 AM Start (still in the dark)

LOOP 1:

The forecast for the race was basically that the first day would be on-and-off rain, cooler, with a very cold first night (with maybe even some snow).  There were also conflicting reports of high winds for later in the day.  In other words I knew the first 18-24 hours would be tough and I mentally prepared for it.  I would not be pulling out another 8:24 loop, pending some miracle.  I led the wave up Bird Mountain with the Abbs', Jamil, and Jodi not far behind.  At the top we broke off onto the Cumberland Trail taking at least 6-8 people with us.  It was a large crew that seemingly wanted to keep us veterans in sight.  After quick work through Fangorn we came upon the first book and chaos ensued.  Everyone frantically wanted their pages first.  It was a bit of a push/shove match but eventually I left with my page just behind Alan and Bev.  We bolted down Checkmate still pulling several other runners with us and before we knew it were climbing up to Jury Ridge.  At the top, we put our game faces on as we began the dreaded new section.  After grabbing the new Book 2 just off of Jury Ridge's ridgeline, we took an incorrect line down to the confluence and Book 3.  We ended up passing the gas well, but were still too far North.  We wandered around for a good 10 minutes looking for the draw and the confluence and eventually bumped into Jared who was also wandering around looking for the Book.  We all agreed we were too far North as the landscape didn't seem right, and after a good 15 minutes we finally found the right place and the book.  We began the new, and very steep climb back up to the North Boundary Trail where we would pop back in to the usual course.  From here on out, the course would be the same as last year.  On the climb, the first real significant one of the day, I noticed I was already lagging behind the others.  I decided that I would do my own thing and let them go on ahead.  I was here to enjoy myself and that was it.  What none of us knew was that while were were looking for Book 3, several others passed us.  At the top of the climb, we scrambled up the Vertical high wall (which was tons of fun!), and popped out on the NBT.  I jogged my way along the trail, past the coal ponds (passing several others along the way) until the final switchbacks up to Garden Spot.  I hiked up and gathered the book...making sure to eat as well.  By this point, the rains and fog had started.  I had caught up to Jodi at this point and I decided to navigate down through the Stallion, Butt-slide, Fyke's sections.  

The two of us made quick, albeit briar-infested work up on Stallion, and were soon descending down to the New River.  The Abbs and Jamil were still well out of view ahead of us.  We had some great conversation up and over the Spectacle and I showed him the navigation ropes up Pig Head Creek.  My climbing was still labored, but I was having fun.  Once we hit Rat Jaw, the rain was full-on.  It was cold, windy, wet, and foggy on the climb.  This also meant that the mud had become similar to last year...almost impassible.  We found ourselves climbing Rat Jaw by staying on top of the briars for traction.

Alan, Bev, Jamil Descending....Jodi and I ascending 

(I'm at the top of picture, a bit behind Jodi)

Jodi killing the climb up RatJaw

Final push up Ratjaw

Topping out in the fog

Jodi and I getting pages at the tower (Loop1)

I made the descent with Jodi and we made quick work through the prison tunnel.  On the other side we could see the Abbs' and Jamil starting the climb up the Bad thing and we figured we'd probably catch up to them if things went well.  We dove into the briars by the water towers and began the slow and painful climb up the Bad Thing (probably my least favorite climb on the entire course).  I explained the contour around the top to the proper capstone and we nailed it almost dead on.  Within a minute or so on the top we were tearing our pages out and checking our compass headings for our descent down zip line.   Our line wasn't terrible down, but was a smidge off as we found ourselves a little off course near the bottom.  We spotted the Abbs' and Jamil across the creek though and jumped in to join them.  The 5 of us got our Beech Fork pages and climbed Big Hell together to the summit.  After the long/slow climb, we grabbed our last pages and began the jog/run back to camp down from Chimney Top.  The wind was blowing and I had to stop to put on another rain shell.  We had a good pace all the way back to camp and came up on the gate at about 9 hours 12 minutes....a little slower than I would have liked, but not bad considering the rain and fog that had been plaguing us all day.  I knew the night loop was going to be tough and I informed the others I'd be spending 20-25 minutes in camp.

LOOP 2:

In camp I moved with purpose, but also made sure not to miss anything.  I knew on our current time and pace, we'd likely get through the new parts still in daylight which was fantastic in my book.  We each spent about 25 minutes eating, and resupplying.  I was careful to bring lots of extra clothing.  I knew it was going to be a cold night, and even though the rain had mostly stopped, we were all still wet  and would get even colder as the night moved on.  Additionally, the winds had started to pick up.  At the gate, we all checked out and began the climb up Bird.  Things went smoothly at checkmate, and we were soon climbing up to Jury Ridge mentally preparing for the new parts.  I was again lagging a bit, and had decided that once on the climb up from the new section, I would slow up a bit and let the others go ahead.  This time, we navigated book 2 perfectly with the help of Jodi (who had nailed it his first time through).  On the climb, I watched as the others slowly pulled away and I mentally prepared for a long, cold night alone.  I took time to eat, and kept a smooth and even pace.  The NBT went by mile by mile, and soon I was climbing to Garden Spot.  When I arrived, I was surprised to see that the others were only a few minutes ahead of me.  I stopped for a couple minutes to warm up and eat.  I made the turn to Stallion, feeling pretty good, and made quick work down the Barley Branch towards Leonard's Butt Slide.  At the bottom, I had caught back up to the group, but there was someone missing.  I noted Bev wasn't around and had assumed she was just taking a pit stop, but Alan informed me that she had to drop due to borderline hypothermic conditions.  I knew exactly how awful that feels and it brought back vivid memories from last year.  I was super bummed to hear the news, but you simply don't mess around with safety issues.  The night had gotten very cold and it was now sleeting on and off.  We were all so far into the loop yet all we could all think about was getting back to the gate.  There was definitely some quit temptation coming on at this point.  Moving through the remaining parts of the loop were slow and labored.   Generally on the climbs I fell back behind the group a bit, but then caught back up on the downs.  One by one...book pages were collected, and we suffered through the cold up to the tower.  The fog was pretty bad, but not quite as bad as last year.  At the tower, I was presented again with a temptation to quit and recalled my mental state last year.  This is where I gave up.  I refused to this year.  I quickly headed down Ratjaw before the debate was even settled, so that I would have no choice but to finish the loop.  I was dreading the thought of the Bad Thing.  I simply hate that climb...but we were making steady progress.  We ran into Jared at the Beech Fork as he was heading out on his loop 3.  It was good seeing him and he still had quite a bit of spunk in his step.  I had no doubt that he'd be going for 5, pending some major blowout.  We made the last slog up to Chimney Top, got our pages, and began the jog back to camp.  

We came into the gate at about 23 total hours. The first words out of Laz's mouth were "Well that was kind of a slow loop for you guys!".  My immediate response was...."you're a bad, bad man Laz".   On the run into camp, we had all discussed our intentions, and the general consensus was that we would all like to go for loop 3, but none of us were particularly thrilled about it.  I informed the others that I would be taking at least 45 minutes this break.  I need to warm up, and re-evaluate my goals.I set up in the warm bathroom, and ate a lot of food to replenish.  Alan and Jamil were also doing the same, while Jodi was taking a nap.

LOOP 3:

The decision to go out on loop 3 was a very difficult one.  Had I not dropped so early last year, there is a good chance I would have pulled the plug at 2.  At 24+ hours we all knew it but didn't want to say it: A 5 loop finish was no longer possible.  A 3rd loop would be it if we went for it.  A fun run would be all I would come away with.  Considering my lack of training, and the horrendous weather on day/night 1, I was actually quite content with this thought.  The problem was, we still had to do that 3rd loop.  I had many debates in my mind, but after about 70 minutes of mulling around, I finally just got up and starting walking towards the gate.  If I didn't do it then, I was never going to do it.  Jamil and Alan reluctantly followed.  We hadn't see Jodi.  We were all starting to suffer from the effects of sleep deprivation a bit.  We were slow on the climb and since it had become clear that this would be our last lap, we laid into the caffeine tabs.  Alan and I started popping 200mg tabs left and right.  The mini boosts were nice, but really did nothing more than to keep us alert.  Slopping around in the mud and cold the previous night had really cost me a lot of energy...much more so than in 2012.  I was much more tired on this loop 3 than on my 2012 loop 3.  Thankfully, the sun was just starting to come up on the climb up to Chimney Top.  Branches along the trail were caked in wind-blown ice.  It was quite surreal.  The wind at the top was still biting hard and made for a brisk morning.  It felt good to be on a reverse loop...my first since 2012.  We navigated perfectly down and up the Beech Fork and were soon descending to the prison.  Alan and I got off course going down the Bad Thing, but corrected quickly.  Still, Jamil had managed to beat us down and was waiting for us at the book.  We noticed that Jodi's page was also missing, meaning he had passed us at some point.  It was apparent that the sleep did him well!  I was happy for him that he was having such a strong loop 3 and finally going out on his own.  I secretly began to hope that he might sneak in under 36 and still have time to go out for a 4th. 

The long climb up lower and upper Rat Jaw took a while, and we were greeted part way up by the French film crew.  I think at one point they got video of me pissing...so that'll be some lovely footage. Right as we began climbing upper Rat Jaw, Jodi was already coming down.  He had already gained about 45-60 minutes on us and was looking fantastic!  I could see the hunger in his eyes.  It reminded me of myself two years ago.  We all wished him well, and the three of us plodded on.  We made quick work on Rat Jaw and Alan began hinting at quitting.  I tried to keep his mind distracted and soon the three of us were descending back down Pig Head Creek.  There'd be no quit at the Tower this loop dammit!  I led us down that descent and got out on the road quickly.  The climb up Meth Lab Hill, despite being tame, really sapped me.  I fell behind again.  I began to worry a bit about our finishing time.   I kept telling the other two NOT to wait for me as it might come down to minutes.  On the descent down the Spectacle though, I caught back up with Alan and we breezed down to the New River grabbing the swamp book in the process.  In my mind we now had 3 major climbs left...Stallion, Hiram's Smile, and Checkmate.   We just needed to get through them and we'd be done.  The climb up Stallion was the longest, but it's one of my favorites so it didn't bother me.  The sandwich I'd eaten at the tower was finally kicking in and I maintained a steady pace up the entire climb.  Within an hour we were en route to Garden Spot with 4+ hours of time remaining.  We hustled at the Spot, and began a very brisk hike along the NBT.  We passed the turn off to quitter's road where I told Alan he had come this far...he was stuck with us till the end.  There'd be no quitting.  When the three of us made it to the "Wilderness" Ridge at the turnoff to the new section, we all breathed a long sigh, gathered ourselves, took a bearing, and dove down into the woods.  I took lead, and navigated quite well, down to the confluence.  On the ascent up to Jury Ridge, Jamil confidently took lead and picked a perfect line up to the Book 2 cairn.  This was critical to our finishing as we lost no time here.  It was truly a perfect ascent.  At the top, we all ate quickly, sussed ourselves out, and did some time-math.  We also put our headlamps on as it was getting dark.  We all agreed we needed 2 hours from Phillips Creek to be safe.  We were at 2:20.  We hustled down the switchbacks to the creek and began the climb up Checkmate with about 1:55 remaining.  It was going to be close.

I had never navigated up Checkmate in the dark so we all agreed to let Alan lead.  It was a lot of pressure to put on him, but he navigated us perfectly and when we topped out on the coal bench I thought we could relax and had the finish in the bag.  We rounded the bench to the book...BUT IT WASNT THERE.  Panic set in. We scrambled back and forth and could not find it.  I knew all of the visual markers.  The rusty cable, the fallen tree....everything was where it should be...but no book.  Precious minutes ticked by and I yelled, "I'm not going to go out like this dammit!".  Finally, I took a deep breath, climbed up on the center ridge where we come down to the book, and traced an approach to where it should be.  I popped out on the bench, looked to my left where the book should be....and there it was.  It was there all along.  Annoying! In the end, we lost about 5-7 minutes, making our precious cushion that much slimmer.  We quickly bolted into Fangorn. I navigated, praying that I didn't screw us up.  A couple of times I didn't recognize the surroundings, but I always gathered myself quickly and refound the route quickly.  Soon we were making the final climb up to Hiram's Gambit and the final high-point of the race.  We popped out on the Cumberland Trail, hopped over the Pillars and hit the Bird Trail junction at the top with 25 minutes to get to the bottom.  I did the quick math, turned to the guys and said,

"I think we have to run a bit to make this guys.  I don't want to be the guy that misses it by 2 minutes...so I'm running.  I don't care how much it hurts".

They agreed and we sort-of run-hobbled our way down the mountain, grunting and groaning the entire way.  My attitude shifted between elation and panic.  Moments would pass where I was convinced we'd make it, and then after countless switchbacks not ending, I'd panic and start running faster.  I kept hearing the creek, but it never seemed like it was getting closer.  

10 minutes left.  Still switchbacking....still seemingly no closer.   7 minutes left and the creek is now loud.  I see a headlamp and know we are close.  I recognize the last switchback and realize I'm about to pop out on the road.  We're going to make it.  This is the first moment I'm truly convinced we'll make it....only about 1/4 mile from the finish.  The headlamp was from some of the film crew waiting.  I turn on the adrenaline afterburners and run around the corner not waiting for Alan and Jamil (I know they are just 30 seconds behind me anyway and that they're safe to finish as well).

I ran down the final road to a large and welcoming crowd of my Barkley Family cheering and hollering for us all.  I touch the gate at 39:56, with just 4 minutes to spare.  Alan and Jamil are a minute behind me.  The crowd tells us all that it was the most intense and exciting fun-run finish ever...waiting for us.  They were all biting their nails and watching as our headlamps descended the mountain, wondering if we'd make it.  I took a well-earned seat in the chair by the gate, turned in my pages, and then stood up to gracefully accept my Taps.  We all laughed about the crazy finish, and then gradually retired to our campsites and tents.  It was a hell of a fun run finish.  Jodi had gained over 3 hours on us during his 3rd loop finishing with an amazing 36:36...just a smidge over the cut-off for a loop 4 attempt.  He had the 2nd best performance at Barkley this year and should feel pretty darn good about that.  I can definitely see him coming back for another go.

The next day at about 4 pm, I stood patiently at the gate and watched as Jared Campbell became the 2nd two-time finisher.  I stood eagerly for over an hour and listened to his wonderful stories of loops 4 and 5.  I couldn't help but smile to see such an incredibly humble guy, with such a kind heart, finish the Barkley for a 2nd time (especially on this tougher course).  It was an honor to shake his hand and hear his stories.  He earned his finish, and I hope he takes a nice long rest in the coming weeks.

All in all it was a great success.  I was of course somewhat disappointed not to be out on a 4th or 5th, but considering my lackluster training this year, I can't be anything but content with my fun run.  I drove home from Tennessee quite pleased with my experience and happy to have met and talked with so many great people.  I will miss my Barkley Family over the year, but will be thinking of all of you often.  Thanks for again imprinting the indelible memories in my heart and mind.

hike on my friends,

-john

39:56 Fun run finish

Alan's Finish and Taps

Jamil's Finish

The Barkley Buckle

Celebrating with Jodi the next day.  (Using a pole to walk!)

Jared Campbell Finishes again:  57:50