“what is it you want to know about this year’s race? we have runners from 21 states and 9 foreign countries. there will be a lot of difficult climbs and descents. ultimately, most will fail to complete the journey…possibly all.” – laz
I was not at all surprised to receive this email late at night, in fact I never expected to receive it at all. Lazaras Lake is a legend, an elusive figure, a leader of a cult.
Brave runners attempt the Barkley Marathon.Lore surrounds this particular race like none other. Regulars are protective over its merits and virgins are thirsty just to be invited. Tales of its beginnings and origin are passed from runner to runner like a massive, worldwide game of telephone.
Runners from all over vie for an exclusive spot on the list, or even a spot on the “wait list.” A few dozen get a chance to fail every year. In its decades of existence, only the fortunate have actually completed the Herculean task.
It’s not Colorado’s Leadville 100 or Death Valley’s Badwater. It’s the Barkley Marathon and it’s held each spring just hours away at Tennessee’s Frozen Head State Park.
When I first heard of the “marathon” it was understood that I would never hear more about the 100-miler than that reference. No one had been able to find out more about the race. But I couldn’t leave it alone-the idea of a super popular, yet clandestine ultra-marathon intrigued me. Why wouldn’t it? Runners are absolutely charmed by it. Maybe it’s the registration process, which I hear consists of an opportune email, an essay, poem or interpretive dance and the sacrifice of a license plate from your home state or country with a tithe of $1.60.