If you think completing the “World’s Toughest Foot Race” is tough, try editorially capturing the event without putting everyone to sleep. The 2010 AdventureCORPS Badwater Ultramarathon was an epic adventure for all parties involved. If you have the endurance for The Run Down’s “World’s Longest Ultra Recap,” then carb up, grab a 5-hour Energy shot (or 14) and then slap yourself a few times with a wet Moeben arm sleeve.
The 2010 AdventureCORPS Badwater Ultramarathon recap is brought to you by INKnBURN and their forthcoming line of semi-custom, made-to-order endurance wear. The revolutionary new line, similar to those worn by the Team INKnBURN crew, will be online soon. INKnBURN – Where Art Meets Apparel.
Words can’t convey the surreal experience delivered by Chris Kostman’s 2010 AdventureCORPS Badwater Ultramarathon. If you’ve tried to explain a dream to a third party, you know what I’m referring to. While your Posturepedic revelation may motivate you to stop popping Advil during a 5k, it’s tough to craft a narrative so that you’re even remotely understandable to the most attentive audience. For the record, dreams are like small children and interesting to the people who actually have them. It’s a personal thing.
And so follows our take on the AdventureCORPS Badwater Ultramarathon, in Harry Potter-esque fashion (very long). Trying to document this race is like explaining what motivates people to buy and then hydrate their Chia Britney — some things can’t and shouldn’t be explained or purchased. To comprehend the AdventureCORPS Badwater Ultramarathon, you have to crew or run in the event. However, I’ll scarf a Twinkie, down a Jolt Cola and give it my insulin-high best (sort of my template for life in general, anyway).
The event name, like all ultramarathons, is confusing or even semi-limiting. The physical race occupies Badwater for all of a few hours. Wouldn’t Badasphalt, Badblisters, Baddrivers or Badcellreception make more sense? Or even Badass? Sorry, getting sidetracked.
On a continued tangent, what’s up with the braggadocios’ 280 feet “BELOW SEA LEVEL” reference and glorification sign? I’m convinced everyone understands Badwater is 280 feet below “Whale Wars” as the lowest point in the entire Western Hemisphere (it’s all so exciting). But really, Badwater is nearly in Nevada. Is the sea-level statistic of any major geographic or life-threatening importance? Should we be securing beach chairs and wearing floaties for the ensuing high tide or BP spill? I’ve broken out the thong on many SoCal beaches and don’t recall any signs proclaiming,“280 feet above Badwater.” I’m envisioning a sign that reads “IT’S REALLY FRIKKEN HOT” that might mean more to the average person.
Plus, I’m not convinced the ocean is giving Badwater the respect Badwater is giving the ocean. And, looking around the dynamic Badwater memorial, the ocean isn’t the first thing that comes to mind. Chlorine and a Wet Dry Vac is what I’m talking about. Unless somebody is going to salt up a a few margarita glasses, let’s soak this stinkpond up before the Home Owner Association catches wind!
The Badwater reference is cool, spooky and respectfully represents the harshness of this premiere race, but those long-tailed lizards aren’t scurrying across Highway 190 to get their Boogie Boards. That’s all I’m saying.
There are more rules, forms and regulations at the AdventureCORPS Badwater Ultramarathon than found at the Singapore International Airport or on cereal box tops used to redeem prizes. The mere mention of a pre-race meeting for ADD, hyperactive ultrarunners brings on early symptoms of hyponatremia.
I’m here to inform you that the AdventureCORPS Badwater Ultramarathon pre-race meeting was necessary, informative, funny and full of hot chicks. Chris Kostman’s message was clear, well delivered and to the point. The first-year forest ranger was himself an athlete, and very relateable. He even told a topical running joke (“jography!”). Scott Wall is plain funny as he highlights what to expect if you don’t get with the program. Scott would be a fun chap to down a few beers with, but always remember to “respect the kilt.” Medical director and previous Badwater winner Lisa Bliss was credible, cute and comforting. The information session flew by. It was easily the most beneficial and entertaining pre-race meeting of all time and worth the price of admission.
To put things into perspective, Death Valley is so hot that restroom hand dryers can be utilized as personal cooling fans. It’s as if the entire area subscribes to an alternate high-definition sun. For the 2010 event, air temperatures ranged from 90 to 125 degrees depending on whose overheating car 
thermometer you trust. Asphalt temperatures were in the 140- to 160-degree range. If you watched Vin Diesel in “The Chronicles of Riddick,” the maximum security prison planet of Crematoria comes to mind.
The Badwater area has an evaporation rate of 150 inches per year. What does that even mean? If there were a 9,000-acre lake, 12-feet deep in the heart of Death Valley, it would completely evaporate in 12 months. Hanging out for multiple days in triple-digit heat, you realize Death Valley earned its name for a reason. And, the AdventureCORPS Badwater Ultramarathon experience delivers the full meaning and message of this unforgiving land. The rock, sand and light formations are “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds” material. If you are legally prescribed marijuana, this is the joint to fire up the triple-chamber bong, but a word of caution: Food choices are limited, so beware the munchies.
All kidding aside, if you’ve never visited Death Valley, you should. Witness for yourself what early valley inhabitants coped with minus Coleman coolers, Camelback hydration packs and frozen Otter Pops. Eyes-off-the-road tourists travel from around the globe to marvel at the area’s desolate beauty, while people from California think Death Valley is in Africa.
On my 13″ LCD, the AdventureCORPS Badwater Ultramarathon looks like a street race with the “ultra” reference sneaking in due to the insane distance. However, I don’t think people understand or respect the amount of climbing runners have to endure. Conventional wisdom would be, “It’s street, how severe can the ascent be?” In essence, the total elevation gain of over 13,000 feet is harder than what you’d encounter in most trail 100-milers. The fact that the crow’s flight from Badwater to the top of Mt. Whitney is only 76 miles foreshadows the amount of switchbacks and indirect routes the runners must traverse to cover the 135 miles to the Mt. Whitney portal. The climbs arrive in solid waves with no intermediate declines for temporary relief or recovery. Climbing for 3 to 6 hours is the norm.
With three Monday morning start times, 6, 8 and 10, the race start is akin the Dead Sea’s Mini Me. The 17.4 miles to Furnace Creek is rolling pavement. Most crews are feeling out their runners (not literally, mostly), acclimating to the environment, breaking street shoulder crewing rules and internalizing the logistics of supporting someone who’s beginning to slow roast like a Christmas duck.
Furnace Creek to Stove Pipe Wells (Mile 41.9) is pretty much the same story as the previous 17 miles with one slight modification: skyrocketing temperatures. About the time runners reach the Devil’s Corn Field, the temperature fluctuated between 115 and 120 degrees — obviously, not hot enough to pop the devil’s corn but enough to start sucking the life out of each runner. It became apparent that those who pushed it through this section set themselves up for some level of exposure and/or exhaustion issues up the road.
Stove Pipe Wells to Townes Pass (Mile 58.7) is 18 miles and 5,000 feet of pure climb. With no switchbacks, strip malls, shade, beer-pong tourneys or even the slightest leveling off, this section is hell on wheels. If God jumped motorcycles, this would be his personal ramp. When road signs inform you to turn off your air conditioner to avoid engine overheating, you know you’re in for a treat. TheRunDown’s V8 threatened to bog down more than once while attempting to crest this hill. Temperatures are typically way up and with less than half of the race distance completed, most runners are reduced to walking. Run/walk or power hiking wasn’t an option. Potentially the most difficult aspect of this 2010 race was the 20 to 30 mph headwinds that raged during the entire length of Townes Pass. As if 18 vertical miles isn’t enough of an irritant (or Cheryl Zwarkoski’s perfect quads).
When you eventually reach the top of Townes Pass, you’re rewarded with a quad-busting, eight-mile, 3,400-ft descent into bustling Panamint Springs Resort (Mile 72.3). In one sense, this is a welcome patch of downhill as the heart rate lowers and blood flow begins to support things like your brain. On the flip side, this is also an excellent opportunity to fry the quads and destroy your race. You have to be careful on this section not to get overzealous.
Panamint Springs Resort is a key spot for all participants. Race organizers wisely rent a few complimentary rooms so runners and crew can shower, lay down and cool off in relatively nice casitas — or plot the sequel to “The Hills Have Eyes.” At times, the rooms look more like a Jim Jones Kool-Aid party with bodies strung out all over the floor. If you don’t take advantage of these rooms to rest any portion of your entourage, that’s a mistake. The 1/4-mile long town boasts a motel, restaurant, bar, wannabe gas station and a dusty camping area.
Don’t get me wrong. The remote desert towns that double as race official hangouts and runner checkpoints make the event possible. Without them, you 
simply couldn’t carry enough gas, ice and gummy bears to support the event. While Panamint Springs Resort, with its world-famous milkshakes, was a welcome sight for thirsty throats, I’m still trying to figure out where the actual “resort” was located. Maybe due to lack of sleep, I misplaced the room service menu, couldn’t locate the spa and apparently the golf course was closed for overseeding. I hear the word “Resort” and there better be valet dudes greeting me with “Good day, Mr. Nickell” or let’s face it, we’re at the Bates Motel. Which, by the way, in Death Valley is A-OK. Again, I’m just saying. But Anthony Perkins is, after all, the honorary mayor.
After Panamint Springs Virtual Resort, there’s no prepared food, gas, ice or water for 50 miles. As if the 18-mile climb out of Stove Pipe Wells wasn’t exciting enough, the snake-like 15 miles of climbing leaving Panamint Springs is equally brutal. Every uphill turn leads to another. There are more fake crests on this road than fake people at an MLM convention. While cruising this uphill stretch, I ran into the elusive El Scorcho. With sketchy sightings and unreliable reports of his whereabouts
and true identity, I was beginning to think the devil’s step-child was a myth until I spotted the lycra-clad, Speedo-wearing outcast of the originally coined Fantastic 5. Here’s our conversation as I interrupted him hassling a runner.
Me: “El Scorcho, don’t you think it’s a tad hot for your pansy _ss to be outside?”
El Scorcho (in a rented Spanish accent): “I was born in a volcano and raised in a fire pit you bitch!”
Me: “That explains the snow-white chest and freckled skin.”
El Scorcho: “When bone turns to ash it’s white you _uck wad!”
Me: “I need to roll up my car window, the frosty air is escaping and the icicles are starting to melt. Have a nice hot day.”
EL Scorcho: “May you burn in the playground I call hell.”
It’s surprising the number of gay superheroes named after Del Taco hot sauce you can encounter in the desert.
Once reaching the top of the Panamint grade, you hit Darwin Flats — the gateway to Father Crowley’s Turnout and runner checkpoint mile 80.2. If you recall one thing about the 135-mile course, remember this: Within the four elusive miles of Darwin Flats you’ll find the only decent cell reception within the heart of the run. If you need to touch base with loved ones, call a shrink, start an online will or do some mobile Internet porn surfing, this is the G-spot. Granted, your service will be roaming via Uncle Ernie’s cell tower, so forget file transfers over 2 megabytes.
This particular stretch is famous for its fighter pilot flybys. Though I only heard the jet wash and never saw Maverick & Goose doing inverted highway maneuvers, it’s a moving experience to see pilots streaking at light speed 1,000 feet off the desert floor. While I lack specifics, Moeben mogul Shannon Farar-Griefer named her youngest son Jet after witnessing the aerial show and then getting too cuddly in Bora, Bora. I know, TMI. Good thing she didn’t see the Goodyear blimp pulling a beer banner. Young kids named Fat Tire get teased in school.
From Father Cowley’s Turnout to Keeler (Mile 107.8), the course gets long and seemingly never ending. While there’s a gradual climb at the beginning, the majority of the distance transforms into a gradual decline. I’ve never seen so many people walk downhill in an ultra. But I guess after 100 miles and more than 24 hours of running, certain things don’t work as they do in practice.
Keeler to Lone Pine (Mile 122.3) is the toughest mental stretch of the entire course. You’ve run over 
four marathons and now you need to run a fifth to reach the thriving metropolis of Lone Pine. The crystal-like rock formations and trippy sand dunes of Death Valley are gone. It’s flat and uneventful as far as the eye can see.
Chris Kostman will undoubtedly dispute my claims about the lack of nothing to see in the Keeler area. He’ll point out the phenomenal view of the Sierra Nevada and the switchbacks of the Portal Road leading to the finish line on Mt. Whitney. He’ll get dramatic and tell you that Whitney is like a beacon, drawing each runner up into its arms. Chris might be correct but that’s all assuming you can take your mind off the pain (unless Keira Henninger cruises by). You can see Lone Pine. You run but it doesn’t feel like you’re making any forward progress. Keeler (population 50) is one big extended family. Don’t expect anything aside from a paranoid eye through the opening of a sun-faded mini-blind. When they find Laura Bradbury alive and well in Keeler, don’t be surprised.
When you eventually hit Lone Pine (Mile 122.3), it feels like New York City full of shops and food establishments, despite it boasting only one intersection traffic signal. The town is taken over by runners, TRD fans (3), crew and race support personnel. Even the Mexican food, cooked by Caucasian albino twins, seemed oddly authentic. Anything hot tasted like it was prepared by Emeril Lagasse (bam!) or an Iron Chef. Roaming the desert for two days, living off Clif bars and energy gels, can make even the smallest town seem like Paris in summer.
Lone Pine and the Dow Villa Motel is world headquarters for the AdventureCORPS Badwater Ultramarathon Webcast crew. The Run Down has been admittedly harsh on the archaic webcast attempts of all the major ultramarathons, but I have to give kudos where recognition is deserved. Keith Kostman and Marcus Edvalson nailed the 2010 AdventureCORPS Badwater Ultramarathon webcast. I had friends in Oklahoma texting me runner results and updates. Reports came in that folks in Orange County saw so-and-so on the web cast all the while checking out real-time photos taken by ultra extraordinaire Louis Escobar. It was excellent online coverage that other races need to study while internalizing the significance of the influential web audience.
Nothing beats a refreshing Sierra Mountain half-marathon after running 122 miles in blistering heat. The 4,600-feet final trek to the Mt. Whitney Portal would be a tough training run. I can’t imagine too many 2010 AdventureCORPS Badwater Ultramarathon racers actually ran this entire section, though I’m sure some did. The competitors who make it this far are, for the most part, guaranteed a finisher’s medal and possibly a coveted buckle if inside the 48-hour time limit. The views of the Owens Valley are stunning and in reflection it seems ironic that a race ending with fresh running streams, a trout pond and massive trees started in a barren oasis with freaky snails living in a salt saturated pond.
While there are approximately 79 individual runners stories, there are more than 400 crew and pacer stories, too. If you want to crew somebody in the AdventureCORPS Badwater Ultramarathon, you better study up and train for it. Undoubtedly, the runners put forth the greatest physical effort, but the crew and pacers all experience their individual versions of a “mini Badwater” full of sleep deprivation, baking in the sun, fighting for backseat crumbs, cursing, running at midnight, and performing roadside waiter duties with no chance of a tip despite exemplary service. No runner finishes this race on his or her singular effort. Without a competent crew, you’re vulture bait. Most of the crews are comprised of experienced AdventureCORPS Badwater Ultramarathon participants, accomplished endurance runners or Bear Gryills types. Or just sick nutso-types with nothing else to do with their lives.
Zach Gingerich’s pacer/crew member and accomplished ultra runner Evan Hone sums it up: “I was tired and just wanted to sit down for a minute. Crewing took a lot out of me. I ran more than expected and didn’t take care of myself. I was trashed.”
While I spent time annoying various crews, taking notes and bumming Steeze energy drinks from Keira Henninger, I closely followed the Team INKnBURN crew as they supported Michelle Barton’s first attempt at crossing the diabolical desert. Here are a few tidbits from their effort, which in their entirety craft a much deeper story of camaraderie, human survival and disgustingly warm Monster drinks than I can muster up.
In his preparation for crewing, Keith Swiatkowski would finish overall 10th in the Cuyamaca 3 Peaks 50k on Saturday in what is surely the toughest 50k in SoCal. There’s nothing like an ultra to get warmed up for three straight days of nomadic desert wandering. After wood staking #17 Michelle Barton at mile 96, Keith would physically carry Michelle into the Lone Pine Comfort Inn to begin her rejuvenation process. Asked if he wanted to grab some dinner, his reply was short: “I’ll stay here and work with Michelle.” His burrito was really good.
In what ultra hasn’t Dean Dobberteen placed first, second or third? His running resume is off the charts but it pales in comparison to his natural demeanor of being one of the guys. Dean would pace Michelle during some of her most trying hours. As Dean put it, “18 or 118 miles, whatever it takes!” Fresh off Saturday’s third-place finish in the Harding Hustle 30k, Dean can go short or long. Uncharacteristically, Dean would leave the Death Valley area with no winner’s plaque but that doesn’t mean he left empty handed. Dean would return to San Diego with one ceramic ramekin, a wicker basket of fresh dinner rolls, one slightly used fork and the world’s largest pancake. If you go out to dinner with Dean, nothing goes to waste including the salt shaker. Ultra legend Ben Hian is LOL somewhere.
Larry Goddard would eventually return to Lone Pine where he previously finished 9th in the 2010 Wild Wild West 50k. Only this time, Larry would cover 30-plus miles of hot pavement with no sleep before revisiting the spooky boulders of the Mt. Whitney Portal Road. Dave is in the witness relocation program and not wanting to compromise his cover — I’m only providing a partial shot of his face. Did I just say Dave? That’s not his real name, it’s Larry. Were those gunshots?
Carl Tedesco would find it necessary to finish 11th in the Cuyamaca 3 Peaks 50k before arriving in Furnace Creek. Fast forward Tuesday midnight. Carl would agree to run the initial 10 miles with Michelle as she commenced her return journey at the 96-mile mark. Everything began clicking for Michelle on her way to Lone Pine and she would ask Carl “The Cookie Monster” to hang on for the full distance; if it ain’t broke, why fix it? Carl would oblige and run what is now known as the Keeler Midnight Marathon taking second place in 4:40:01 right behind Michelle at 4:40:00. I wonder what Carl is thinking about Saturday’s 50k. Last time I saw him he was passed out in the back of someone’s car.
2009 Javalina Jundred 2nd-place finisher Mark Matyazic would use the crewing opportunity to even his tan and get pumped for his upcoming Mr. Universe/Ironman competition. Pound for pound, I’m not sure there’s a stronger, more fit all-around runner than Mark. He makes me feel like a JC Penny elevator attendant but then again I am. Mark would win the climbing duties up Townes Pass as Keith told him there was a 24-Hour fitness at the top where he could sneak in an ab workout. Even as the 2010 Wild Wild West 50k overall winner, Mark would get mentally and physically spent before Michelle’s journey reached its final conclusion.
Crew captain Holly Anderton (and sole female on duty) had the most difficult job description of all. Holly paced the most miles and dealt with the crux of the female emotions emanating from her best friend and sauna training partner. Relatively new to the ultra scene, Holly was fresh off a 3rd-place finish in the Shadow of the Giants 50k but that was resembling a 5k in paradise compared to her pacing, life coach and motivator duties. Michelle would have Holly literally bare her soles as she ran in Holly’s shoes when her expanding feet no longer fit in her regular gear.
There are many independent reports on the AdventureCORPS Badwater Ultramarathon. What makes the race so different than other stomach-puking events? Is it the hot bodies outfitted in camouflage miniskirts? Is it the opportunity to meet George Velasco and try matching his golden-bronzed tan? Is it feeling perfectly at ease falling asleep in the backseat of an idling car?
Like a survivor of “I Shouldn’t Be Alive,” runners and crew proclaim time and time again that the extravaganza transformed their life. The universal experience felt by all is unexplainable. Is it the distance, the heat, lack of sleep, the environment or constant hiding from the silver VW Bug?
You can’t drill down on any one aspect of this race to pinpoint the short and long-term effect it has on all involved. Instead, the collective effect appears to be a solid stream of unusual sensory perceptions that when aggregated deliver an out-of-mind experience beyond human consciousness. Here are but a few examples starting with the obvious and morphing to the surreal.
1.) 135 miles of pretty much the same road.
2.) Excruciating heat and we’re not talking the cops.
3.) “Running on the Sun?” Try “Running on the Moon.”
4.) OMG, no Starbucks.
5.) OMG, no aid stations.
6.) “Resorts” with no phones. In case of an emergency, just scream.
7.) Shell station with no attendants named Hamid.
8.) Deena Kastor, fastest U.S. female marathoner, jogging around the desert. Double-take, come again.
9.) Ice more valuable than diamonds or gold.
10.) Largest collection of crappy white minivans anywhere in the United States.
11.) Monetarily successful people sleeping in strange cars or on the dirt.
12.) Stove Pipe Wells, one of the the hottest places in the world, has no hot food.
13.) Panamint isn’t even a word; maybe a Central American mouthwash.
14.) Stumble into 25 friends in the middle of nowhere; same folks you can’t meet for a coffee despite living 10 minutes apart.
15.) 50 people openly admit to the U.S. Census Bureau of actually living in Keeler.
Physically tracking front-runners is difficult. The gap their talent creates, in a few hours, spawns a separate race. Last year’s third-place finisher #3 Zach Gingerich would withstand Jorge Pacheco’s early push and win the event in 24:44:48. Zach may work in Auroura, Ill. for Office Max corporate, but he’s a STAPLE in this race; just a little office supply humor. You can file it away.
#2 Oswaldo Lopez! His AdventureCORPS Badwater Ultramarathon track record speaks (Spanish) for itself. If certain race-day dynamics were slightly different, he’d have a first-place trophy sitting alongside his other ultra hardware. Isn’t there a race in Oregon
named after Mr. Lopez? The Where’s Oswaldo 100k? I’ll tell you where Oswaldo is: first, second or third. He’s as predictable as the rising sun. The man is pure money, as in beuno dinero.
Oswaldo would break the 2010 tape a mere 20-minutes behind Gingerich. In a race of this distance, 20 minutes is a blink of the eye. Oswaldo would secure second place in 25:05:38! To put it in perspective, he only took 9 seconds longer per mile than Gingerich. Unfortunately, over distance those precious seconds crea
ted an insurmountable gap. Maybe his bib number was a curse from his country’s dreaded El Scorcho.
Men’s third place went to last year’s defending champ, Brazil’s #1 Marco Farinazzo. Marco is a machine. His pace and running mechanics don’t vary from mile 5 to mile 105. This guy was born to run and run he does.
Overall third-place finisher and first female was genetically engineered #5 Jamie Donaldson (below). With her official three-peat, Jamie owns Death Valley and we’re auditing Keeler High School yearbook archives to determine if she’s really a local product. She’s pretty hip, so that theory is admittedly weak. Finishing in a blistering 26:16:12, Jamie would trounce her previous 2009 record by over 30 minutes while catching a whiff of those mutant pancakes four hours in front of her nearest female competitor.
As you can see from the TRD Jeep in the background, I along with the BBC and the police st
alked Jamie at various stages of the race. I can emphatically report she was running in each instance. It has since dawned on me that I’m involved in a sport where the crux of my idols (Cheryl Zwarkowski, Krissy Moehl and Greg Hardesty) are all women. Does that make me gay?
The Discovery Channel will air Jamie’s 2010 performance next year after their noon tea and crumpet break. Keep paying the cable bill.
Mrs. Consistent, #100 Connie Gardner (right) would cruise in at 30:35:08 
for second female. Next was #7 Pam Reed powered by Red Bull or anything else synthetic in third place at 32:23:34. I read somewhere that this woman can run far.
There are so many personalities, touching stories, bizarre events and people that show up at the AdventureCORPS Badwater Ultramarathon it’s impossible to cover everyone’s participation. Here are a few snippets of the human effort, attitude or plain silliness that colored this particular race.
Sandbagger of the Year goes to #32 Brian Krogman (the Krogster). If you spoke to Brian before the race, you’d think he’d be better off in traction at some swanky Malibu Hospital run by Dr. Drew. This is verbatim: “Hey Run Down, got an envelope? I haven’t run in a month. I can only jog a few minutes then I have to walk. I’ve got sciatica, osteoporosis, malaria and gingivitis.” I didn’t know if I should wish Brian good luck or dial 911.
The one time I caught a glimpse of Brian, he was powering sub 8-minute miles down Townes Pass on his way to overall 12th place with a 31:49:00 finish. I’m predicting a sub-24 for Brian next year if he can show up recovering from the swine flu while fighting off the flesh-eating bacteria disease. Some people excel when feeling their worst. You got me. The Krogster is an anomaly.
Ultramarathon’s version of a taller Ryan Seacreast, #33 Jimmy Dean Freeman, would begin the race DFL only to work his way to the Whitney Portal in 16th place (34:22:40). Crewed by no-nonsense LD50 RD Keira Henninger and navigation expert Pam Everett, Jimmy would excel despite two days of female vegan manhandling, pink Moeben
sleeves, hair product debates and discussions about Eric Wickland’s hot legs. For recovery, JD would return to LA and hold an all-night guys poker game complete with mindless strippers (are there any other kind?).
Commenting that I liked his “Be Change” shirt, Jimmy immediately asked if I could break a hundred dollar bill. Maybe I didn’t understand the message.
Robert Baird drives a measly 500 miles from Orange County to check in on Jimmy Dean Freeman’s progress along with a handful of his ultramarathon buddies. 
Most are unaware that Robert pioneered ultra running in Orange County and is singularly responsible for exposing ultra-successful Kyle Huong to the trails he’s been known to dominate. Robert is seen here talking with me because he thought I was Gordy Ainsleigh. It’s dark out.
While meditating to anger management CDs, Sunday’s midnight text from George Velasco (the Guru) reads, “I’m gonna rest in Vegas, see you in the manana.” Fresh off Saturday/Sunday’s pansy _ss Hardrock 100, George is hauling it to Death Vall ey
. Forget that George hasn’t slept in 48 hours. Despite a forced DNF at Hardrock for helping a lost runner along with an ESPN blooper, George is chipper as he reaches Stove Pipe Wells in time to see Jorge Pacheco, Michelle Barton and others begin the torturous Towne Pass climb.
If there’s a more committed person in the ultra community than George, I haven’t met him or her. And, I have many genuine friends on Facebook:) Though he could, George has never raced in the AdventureCORPS Badwater Ultramarathon but has crewed the previous 14 years. Many if not most of the individuals who crew don’t ever return.
George is a wealth of ultra wisdom, can clear up incorrect trail gossip and is one of the most real persons I’ve ever met — aside from the Real Housewives of Orange County. A self-admitted “Mexican,” whatever that means, George is transforming himself into an Orange County clone with visions of sipping mint juleps and hitting the jacuzzi with the likes of Keira Henninger and Pam Everett. George, let’s start with mowing my yard. Relax, its a joke, we’re friends.
#6 Jorge Pacheco (2008 Champ) is a threat to win every race he enters. Monday had Jorge out front early, passing 6 and 8 a.m. runners well before Stove Pipe Wells. His pace looked relaxed and efficient. He had a very determined demeanor. But Death Valley is relentless, and the most basic things that go unnoticed in a standard 100-mile race become factors in a land that kills tourists 100 yards from their broken-down cars. Doing nothing different in 2010 than in his winning year of 2008, Jorge would experience stomach issues and was forced to sit down while a few respected competitors slid by in the stillness of night.
Jorge’s sixth-place finish is nothing short of amazing, but knowing Jorge I’m sure he’s disappointed though he has no legitimate reason to be. He’s a warrior
, and unlike many top runners who DNF if they “aren’t feeling it,” Jorge would regroup and beat 95% of the field. Go Mexico!
#83 Iso Yucra, fresh off a 21:17:48 Western States 100 finish, would snag first place in the AdventureCORPS Badwater World Cup 135 Series for completing the Brazil 135, Arrowhead 135 and now AdventureCORPS Badwater Ultramarathon in a total time of 124 hours, 8 minutes, 7 seconds. I’ve got friends who can’t stay married for that duration. Congratulations, Iso. I still owe you that beer.
A past-midnight, middle-of-the-street, Panamint jam session? Oh yeah, it’s a resort. This must be the nightclub. Luis Escobar and Mike Sweeny lay down a few tracks while being attacked by the real beetles.
Like this makes sense — Eric Va
n Halen of Van Halen rock & roll fame crewing for one of the 12 Team Moeben’s Euro models? I’ve been to a hundred night clubs and have only mustered up one measly conversation with one of the Wiggles. Yet, in the middle of Death Valley, I run into a direct descendant from rock superstardom. It’s all making so much sense.
There was a Lambert Timmermans (LT) sig
hting around mile 85 as he paced Canada’s #19 Lorie Alexander. Most are unaware that LT and George Velasco are Siamese Twins joined at the IT band. Any pictures of them solo are Photoshopped. Lorie ran 57 50-mile ultras in 2009. I wonder if she trained for this event and really put in the miles. Lorie was also crewed and paced by unstable Ben Blessing.
Neither his New Yorker buddies or close relatives know #8 Philip McCarthy is actually a professional synchronized runner. Phil the Drill (Broadway stage name) is caught here moving in perfect step with an unidentified Las Vegas showgirl. Philip would fox trot his way to an impressive overall 8th finish in 29:44:52, break the tape and do the splits. Its an East Coast thing.
#14 Reza Baluchi’s calorie intake would encompass all of one Dixie cup filled with warm concentrated Pepsi syrup. Reza wouldn’t sleep for an entire week and has vowed to test Cheese Wiz or other solid fake foods for next year’s event.
I’m going to get crucified for this remark but does #15 Shannon Farar-Grier really need Deena Kastor pacing her up Townes Pass? Are we projecting sub-6 minute miles here? Wouldn’t a more efficient use of Deena’s skill set be chasing down desert game or freaking out tourists by tapping on their car windows asking for directions at 40 mph? If Shannon played golf, I get the feeling her caddy would be Anikka Sorenstam. Shannon always turns in a fantastic performance, has done the double and arrives each year with snazzy bling and an all-world entuorage. My kind of show.
Sub 40-hour finisher #28 James Elson would run the entire race under a full body shadow (see photo). We’re not sure if that’s something he conjures up or buys at Walmart. We intend to find out. It’s genius.
Ian Adamson #45 and pacer were in perfect pre-race wardrobe alignment until the running pants logistics issue. With matching hats, bandanas, sleeves, shirts and even water bottles, the sequel to “Body Double” was game on until Ian realized he left the other pajama bottoms at Kinder Care. So the pacer got the shaft.
I don’t know much about #52 David Horner aside from the fact that he gets the job done. David would finish the AdventureCORPS Badwater Ultramathon in a solid 37:18:04. I can’t think of anything clever to say about David aside from the fact that he grips the water bottle old school. Nathan stock just dropped a whopping 5%.
Pasadena Rose Parade official and float greeter #62 Scott Finnell covered the entire stretch waving to the crowd-lined street. David is seen here on a desolate section giving his best wishes to a saguaro cactus and puzzled desert finch.
#66 Kenneth Posner signed up to assist as a crosswalk guard and ended up torching the course in slightly more than 38 hours.
The flight from France took #67 Vincent Toumazou less time than trudging around in 100-plus-degree heat, but First Class didn’t come with a nifty belt buckle or instant tan. Vincent would grab one of Mt. Whitney’s famous pancakes and gross everyone out by dipping it in mayonnaise; a European thing.
Repeated calls to the Furnace Creek Inn concierge yielded the same answer. “Sir, we have no idea where you’re window drapes are. Room service confirms they were accounted for when the maids finished cleaning the room.” Well, upon spotting Lane Vogul #79 one mile outside Stove Pipe Wells, the disappearing window covering mystery was no longer a blind issue. Apparently, that’s George Velasco’s shirt and the white wrist bands are off the Flash Dance audition set. Lane was able to compete in the 2010 AdventureCORPS Badwater Ultramarathon with a budget of under $14. Hum, I wonder how?
This year, #95 David Jones would train (Dancing with the Oldies) with fitness expert and overly excited Richard Simmons. Recovering from pectoral implants and unable to attend, Richard would loan David a pair of his favorite Dolfin shorts. David’s aware of my mental limitations and aptly pointed to his shirt so I’d remember what race he was participating in. Thanks David, I was getting confused with all the other sporting events going on simultaneously in the immediate area.
The pride of Japan #44 Nombumi Iwaamotoo, reminds me of those really cool Bakugan competitors. The stylish hair and shades are part of the younger look surfacing in the ultramarathon world. Like David Ploskonka, Nombumi didn’t appear to require the crutch of a chatty pacer. In fact, never catching him near a vehicle, he may have been living off the land. Nombumi has more shirt sponsors than I have personalities and with his overall 46th place finish, they all owe him at least a grand.
Poster boy #99 Adrian Belitu inadvertently became The Run Down’s official spokesmodel during the race. Sometimes timing is everything and this shot with his day-glo tank foreshadowing the TRD Jeep wrap works too well not to be used in some type of future 
promo. With the news, Adrian quit his job and plans to retire in Switzerland and live off the royalties. Good luck!
There’s no legitimate reason for this photo of Pam Everett & Kiera Henninger. They’re like sisters to me. I enjoy staring at them (not in that weird kind of way) and this report was getting a bit too “Man Cave”. I’m envisioning “Baywatch Goes Desert Storm.” Can’t wait for the slo-motion intro shots! Ok, maybe it was in that weird sort of way.
#25 Anita Marie Fromm (below) 37:53:23 looked like ripped movie character Sarah Connor on her way to Terminate me.
#63 Paul Grimm has spent so much time in the harsh desert he’s starting to evolve. His extra appendages and second head are beginning to make him resemble two human beings. Look for Paul’s finishing times to improve as four legs are faster than two. I wonder which hand he’ll use the Wipee with?
#18 Iris Cooper Imhof was so ravished she became cannibalistic and ate her pacer for breakfast after passing Furnace Creek. Heading up Town’s Pass, Iris starts eating the last of her two handhelds. Fortunately, Panamint Springs Resort’s all-you-can-eat beetle buffet was only a few hours away. Iris would complete as fifth overall women, recover a bit and then ask race officials if they’d seen any of her crew. Uncomfortable silence.
Marshall Ulrich #22 needs no introduction. Marshall does more before 9 a.m. than most countries do all day. In case you’re still living with your parents or in a Tibetan cave (Kirk Fortini?), Marshall won the Badwater 146-mile version from negative 280 feet to the 14,494-foot summit of Mount Whitney a record four times. Marshall is Badwater, Marshall is Death Valley, Marshall is Mt. Whitney.
Connie Dockendorf #34 would forgo the rental car and instead have her pacer carry all the required supplies. Since both are Nevada natives, Death Valley looked like a walk in the park for these two ladies. I don’t know too many people who can carry luggage up Townes Pass other than stalwart locals on a mini-jaunt.
Most participants are unaware that Rod Stewart has completed this event five times under the alias Floridian Frank McKinney #48. Rock stars like “Frank” live in Florida to avoid paying their share of state income tax; it all makes perfect sense. You may recall one of Rod Stewart’s greatest hits titled “Hot Legs.” I’m assuming everyone can put 2+2 together and figure out what that gold record was referencing. And no, it wasn’t referring to stage manager/pacer Juan Restrepo’s calf muscles even though they’re ripped beyond definition.
I stumbled into #37 Amy Palmiero-Winters while she was guzzling a beer inside Lone Pine’s Bonanza Mexican Restaurant in Lone. 
Perky and upbeat (tipsy?), her main concern was finding out how Michelle Barton was faring; considerate, athletic and responsible people can be annoying when you aren’t one of them. Seriously, Amy won the 2010 ESPY Disabled Female Athlete of the Year award and could beat me senseless one handed. Apparently, Amy’s left leg was raw and she wisely chose to saved it for another day. And Amy, Michelle’s right behind you.
There was a very talented toddler in the crowd. #20 Nick Hollon is the same age as his bib number (how cute). Not old enough to get drunk with neighbor Keith Swiatkowski, the 20-year-old from Poway, CA finished 13th in 31:53:00. Nick completed Western States 100 two weeks prior in sub 22 hours and was the youngest to complete the AdventureCORPS Badwater Ultramarathon in 2009 at 19 years of age (18th place in 33:21:29). He also completed the 2008 JJ100 (10th place in 20:33:36) at 18 years of age: about the time he could legally watch an R rated movie. His mother Marina Parenti is one of The Run Down’s seventeen readers so he gets some big love here. It always pays to be nice to your mommy! Unless she’s Hillary Clinton.
#24 David Ploskonka looked his same calm, gritty self at mile 40 as he did near Father Crowley’s Turnout. I spotted David 10 times at various points and in each instance he was working his way solo down the desolate highway to hell. Either he dropped his pacer or, like me, prefers running solo. When you think about it, traversing a desolate area only to have someone breathing down your neck for 20+ hours can be a tad annoying. You can go to the mall or Disneyland for that.
Brazil’s #71 Ricca Wagner makes his way up Darwin Flats for a $10-per-minute cell phone call back home to Brazil. Thank goodness for the highway guardrail, which kept Ricca’s climbing speed from spiraling out of control and catapulting him into the canyon. It’s become apparent that Brazilians like to run really far. I had heard the term Brazilian Nuts but assumed it was referencing a protein source.
The Major of Malibu #55 Chris Frost would reach his goal. As he put it, “It’s not gonna be pretty, but I’ll get it done.” I think the sea level reference is faking Chris out that he’s somewhere near Point Dume scouring the horizon for a set of waves. You don’t see the Mayor of Badwater surfing in Malibu. Come on people, it’s just a wooden sea-level sign!
When at full throttle, “Let’s Rock” #17 Michelle Barton can be the undisputed 50k- and 50-miler queen. She can dominate and has beaten the entire male field in multiple events. Despite winning a 100-miler, Michelle developed a slight reputation of dropping in some of the more difficult 100-mile races. Insiders didn’t give her much of a chance making it past 70 miles in Death Valley.
At mile 96, Michelle was a walking zombie covering one mile per hour with shredded feet. The backs of her legs bubbling, blistering and turning purple, s
he was emotionally and physically spent. Her smartly dressed INKnBURN crew took over and slammed the assigned #17 stake into the desert sand to mark the spot where Michelle would need to re-start should she have the strength and motivation to do so. Michelle was then thrown into the white mini-van and driven 45 minutes through the seemingly endless desert to a cramped, tobacco-stained hotel room in Lone Pine. Too tired to move, Keith Swiatkowski had to carry her to the air-conditioned bed.
A short nap, hot shower, makeover, clothing change, veggie burrito and lots of liquids later, the transformation was complete. It would’ve been understandable if Michelle had hung it up. But, after holding another hotel guest’s buckle and finisher’s medal, Michelle screamed out “Let’s Rock” and it was game on. Back in the van, the crew made its way through the endless desert and back to the obscure stake in the side of the road. Michelle would run a 4:40:00 marathon back to Lone Pine and then sing and dance her way up the mountain to claim her “bad ass” buckle and finisher’s medal.
As Michelle crossed the finish line, time seemed to temporarily halt. I’m sure it was only for a split second, but things appeared to be moving in slow motion. Michelle looked different (she was cooked) or maybe I just saw her as somebody else. Up against unfavorable odds and credible critics, she sucked it up and completed a journey that maybe she herself was uncertain about. In the end, none of the speculation or retrospection really matters. She came to Death Valley as Michelle Barton. She left Mt. Whitney with the exact same name but certainly wasn’t the exact same person.
It’s interesting to note the low DNF rate in the World’s Toughest Foot Race. I attribute this to the runner qualification process, high number of returning competitors and the fact that if you don’t crew for the race your chance of ever being selected for the event is slim.
To race blind, never having visited, ran or stayed up all night in the hellish conditions would be suicide and a complete waste of time and money. While the race is well worth it, the investment for INKnBURN to support six crew members and one runner for five days is significant. Sure, the Team INKnBURN crew demanded lobster tails and protein shakes, hence the phrase “Badwallet.”
As a point-to-point, 135-mile run, the approval process dealing with the different city and state agencies that come into play must be a challenge. 
The behind-the-scenes organizational chart that Chris and his clan have to maintain is substantial. Don’t underestimate the time and effort it takes to get permits for this race. Following the rules and staying in line is a central aspect of getting permits for successive years. If you ever want to run and crew in this race again, read between the lines.
Many of the event volunteers, as you would expect in an international venue, are top-notch runners themselves who understand what’s going on. San Diego Bad Rat and ultra super star Angela Shartel was in so many places we swear she has a twin. Not accustomed to seeing her blonde hair flowing outside of a competitive hat or tightly tied bun, she looked like the Bionic Women (Jamie Summers) cruising around in a little red sports car.
Bottom line, the 2010 AdventureCORPS Badwater Ultramarathon was a well thought out and executed event. Rules and time penalties are fine as long as they’re enforced. Event officials traverse the course pointing out infractions on a consistent basis and frankly, that’s a smart thing. There’s nothing more lame-o than nonenforceable rules. What’s the point? Have you ever seen a trail runner kicked out of an ultramarathon for littering, though empty gel packets sporadically litter most courses? I rest my case. Kudos for Kostman and crew for backing up their rules. Runner safety contingencies are beyond covered and with the world-renowned blister expert John Vonhof on the course, it’s all good. Chris is the poster boy for organizational and logistical efficiency. Hey Chris, that’s your car on the right.
Now, let’s go deep.
Do you want to know a few reasons why the AdventureCORPS Badwater Ultramarathon has such a profound effect on runners and observers alike? How can a human being run 135 miles in 130+ degree heat? It doesn’t sound possible, though it obviously is. Can you handle the truth? I hope so because it’s right here.
Running or crewing in Death Valley during the peak heat of summer forces everyone to be fully present. What? Stay with me. During monumental physical activity, instead of dwelling on the irrelevant past or worrying about the fictional future, your attention is forced into “The Now,” where inner strength and resolve resides. Your actions are based on the situation at hand with no time to think outside of immediate needs. This is a rare state of consciousness where you aren’t mentally exhausting yourself over how you’re going to make the next house payment, apologize to a friend or located Kirk Fortini. Your concerns and actions are tied to the present moment: How are you going to run/crew the next two miles?
Minus mental drama, humans can do amazing things by focusing all energy towards an immediate goal. Think about it: If you had no past or future worries, how would you feel this very second? You’d be fired up and raring to go. Competing in places like Badwater, the impractical mental world dissolves and your true character emerges to conquer what, while sitting at home, seems highly improbable.
If you think that was obscure, sink your Buddha teeth into this sucker. The desert is the undisputed king of silence. Though it 
appears to make no sense, there’s a well-known phrase: “The silence was deafening.” Every sound or noise begins and ends in silence. Without silence, noise doesn’t exist. In fact, silence is the conductive energy behind noise. Light a firecracker in New York City and you’ll barely notice it due to the shortage of silence. In the dead of night, close a car door in Death Valley and it will resonate like an elevator falling 10 floors. The great silence, like you find on the entire AdventureCORPS Badwater Ultratmarathon course, is the source of secondary energy that gives even the simplest running motion exponential power, noise and purpose. And, logging 140 miles a week helps, too.
If you think running the AdventureCORPS Badwater Ultramarathon is all about training and slow-twitch muscles, you’d be somewhat right and somewhat wrong. You gotta go deeper to survive this monster of a race.
Run or Die,
Reported and written by Charlie Nickell.
