This article was originally published in the December 2023 / January 2024 issue of UltraRunning Magazine. Subscribe today for similar features on ultra training, racing and more.
I can feel the concerned glances from strangers at the supermarket. My clients wince in empathy. Family members stare blankly, unbelieving that anyone would willingly subject themselves to this torture. I use humor to ease the apprehension someone may have about asking me just what the hell happened “out there”:
“I tried to bathe a litter of mountain lions.”
“It’s abstract body art.”
“Laser hair removal gone wrong.”
What really happened? The Barkley Fall Classic.
Before we get into why this race leaves its runners looking like they have been put through a meat grinder (which some would say would be a kinder alternative to this race), let’s take a trip back to when this sadistic event originated.
The Barkley Fall Classic (BFC), as the name suggests, has its roots in the Barkley Marathons. Often referred to as “Baby Barkley,” this race was born in 2014 from the idea that runners who thought they might be interested in the Barkley Marathons needed a little taste of Frozen Head State Park before even considering applying to the big race. The infamous Lazarus Lake (Gary Cantrell) shares that in providing a mere fraction of the experience that Big Barkers have to endure, it was an “unexpected bonus” that BFC helped thin the pool of applicants.
At its inception, the race was advertised as being the equivalent to one single loop of the Big Barkley. The race was first run as a 50k, adding the “marathon” option in its second year to provide runners an opportunity to really test their resolve. The Decision Point gives runners the choice to take the “easy way out” by completing the shorter distance, many of whom find themselves with only minutes before the race clock dictates that they are cut. As you consider how you might handle this temptation, you should know that the course changes every year. Each course change always includes an addition to the course (never a subtraction), so you do not need complicated mapping software to figure out that whatever they used to call a 50k in 2014 is definitely not a 50k now. Still, Laz, with certainty and authority, will insist every single year that the race is exactly 31.2 miles. Anyone who shares a course map or any revealing GPS information (or even caught wearing a GPS watch) is issued a lifetime ban, so any numbers that might refute Laz’s claims are completely, utterly false.
In spite of false guestimations of distance or elevation gain, this race draws applicants from around the globe who think they want to run this race. Even with the park’s generous allotment of 400 runners, the number of hopefuls dreaming of making the pilgrimage to Wartburg, Tennessee, has pushed up into the thousands, requiring the race to go to a lottery draw. Although Laz did not need any more fame or notoriety in his race-directing career, crashing UltraSignup was another fun and unexpected notch in his belt. When asked if he envisioned BFC becoming as huge as it is now, Laz replied, “I thought it would work, but never expected it to get this big.” Thinking toward the future, he adds, “I hope to get it set up to continue long after I am gone.” During the early years of BFC, when he saw its potential to bring in far more masochists adventure enthusiasts than he had initially thought, Laz knew this race could raise a lot of funds for local service organizations and youth sports in less affluent counties. Laz’s thoughtful—if not sometimes abstruse—musings about what it takes to set foot on the starting line, seem to do more to entice runners than deter them away. The decision many naive hopefuls have made to face imminent failure has helped to bring hundreds of thousands of dollars for the various groups that are now integral to the operation of this race.
Harrowing tales of survival emerge every year with each metamorphosis of the race (which again, stays exactly 31.2 miles no matter what anyone else may suggest), leaving the novice and initiated with jaws agape. You may hear of the local wildlife, none too welcoming to the hoard of intruders. Wasps that will make you wish you had run into a rattlesnake instead. Obstacles that might make you feel like you’re in a Spartan race, except instead of the luxury of rings and ropes, there’s saw briars. Heat on exposed hills that will incinerate your soul. Or rain, on those very same hills, that leaves your entire body cramping as you cling to those briars to keep from back-sliding 100+ feet.
During the earlier years of the BFC, runners were not only subjected to an unrelenting course, but there wasn’t much reprieve to be found at the aid stations, either. This was again, in part by design to deter inexperienced runners from even saying the words “Big Barkley.” But as the race grew, Laz and co-race director Steve Durbin recognized a need for a little bit more support. Football players from Morgan County’s Coalfield Middle School and High School joined race organizers and volunteers to support runners during their crazy endeavor. The aid stations grew from just a couple volunteers with water jugs, granola bars and meat sticks to dozens of hands helping refill flasks. Previously meager provisions became more traditional aid station offerings, sometimes including volunteer donations like homemade brownies or ice-cold Coke. Sword Performance, based out of nearby Lexington, Kentucky, became the nutrition sponsor. “The community and especially the Coalfield people have embraced the runners. I think the relationship between the BFC runners and the local community is what makes the race so special,” Laz states. So, while the course may continue to make every runner question their abilities and their sanity, the generous volunteers do soften the blow (just a little).
Joining the amazing volunteers are the talented and dedicated Morgan County Volunteer Rescue Squad. While any race poses the potential for trips, falls or unpredictable weather, Frozen Head has a unique and alarming ability to create its own microclimate without warning. Runners may start the race dry and comfortably warm, only to later find themselves enveloped in a fog so thick they can’t see their own feet, or overheating and out of water miles from an aid station. It should not be taken lightly the danger this can present to runners and volunteers alike. “Volunteer rescue squads are a vital (and underappreciated) part of the emergency response team everywhere. These people volunteer their time, often paying for their own equipment and training. We have only had two extractions with the many thousands of participants; one runner (in a previous year) and this year a rescue squad member. They have been there every year in case we need them.” One can find some small measure of assurance that even when (not if) their race seems to be going terribly wrong, they will not be left for the wild boar.
Make no mistake, however, despite all the love and support that you may experience during this race, Laz needs you to know that the BFC “is not a race that coddles you to the finish.” This is not a time for “all-day pace.” Whatever cushion a runner may build for themself running every bit that they possibly can, will simply vanish when they encounter the off-trail sections. A seasoned runner, usually comfortably ahead of cutoffs in any other event, will find themselves praying to make it out from under the dense canopy before needing a headlamp. Anyone who is used to phoning it in on the bare minimum of training will regret that approach within the first few miles of the “warm up loop.” Ask me how I know.
Still considering joining the lottery for next year’s race? Well, then I suppose I have not accomplished what I set out to do when I decided that BFC deserved a different kind of race report. What I can tell you is that it doesn’t matter what gear any of us used, what nutrition we consumed or how many hill repeat workouts we did in our training. None of that alone will earn you the coveted Croix. What will? In Laz’s words: “Do not be afraid to take on big challenges. You will not accomplish big things if you have small goals!” So do not aim for anything short of the full 50k. Do not give your doubts a chance to have a say in the matter. But also know, if nerves get the best of you or you don’t get selected in the lottery, you can donate your entry fee to the passionate and tireless volunteers who will ensure that this race will be there when you’re ready. If you’re ready. Are you ready?