Badwater 135 – 2021 Redux

Badwater 135, a 135-mile trek from Badwater Basin, at 280 feet below sea level, to Whitney Portal, at 8,300 feet, deemed the “the world’s toughest footrace,” is always a journey. There’s the training and perseverance that it takes to even apply. Throughout 2019 when I did not have time to get on a plane, scramble to another race over the weekend, run 100 miles over 30 hours, rush back to work, and keep it all going, I did. I knew that applying for BW135 not only required that I have the races and experience to back me, but also an inkling of confidence that I could get through it. The thing about ultrarunning – and life as we have seen via the pandemic – is that no matter how much you plan, prepare, and pray, anything can happen. There are no guarantees.

The announcement of the 2020 Badwater 135 runners field occurred in February, over President’s weekend. The thrill and honor of hearing your name called, of being one of 99 runners representing 27 nationalities chosen to participate, to be one of 30 women runners of that field, resonates. Then comes the panic. Because once you get in, your life shifts. You are not random with your training or races. You plot and plan. If you have run the race before, you know that May and June are about heat training, time on your feet running, climbing, walking, and focus. You cannot wing Badwater; there is simply no way to show up in Death Valley in July, when the temperatures soar between 120-130 degrees and think you will survive running 135 miles of literal ups and downs, and three mountain passes without careful preparation. Training builds focus into your life, too. I have found again and again that ultrarunning has shifted my view of everything, from my career, to my friendships, to my decisions. I have learned the benefit and value of hard work, commitment, discipline, and showing up your best self on a daily, hourly basis. There is no other way to grow into who and what you are capable of beyond working at it, every single day.

Why? For one, races humble me. They have taught me about adaptability, about laughing at myself, courage, and letting go. They have taught me that dire situations can and do turnaround – if I can just persist a bit longer, believe a bit more, and find that strength within myself to get past and through. Races, and especially Badwater 135, are a mental game. A constant battle of your mind saying no, it hurts, it’s too hard, I don’t have it in me, and your body doing everything in its power to push forward, until the roles reverse and your mind says yes while your body says no. If you are going to finish, you have to learn to align your mind and body, tune out the negativity, and trust and believe in yourself. There is no other way to persevere.

During a span when most ultra-marathons and marathons had been canceled, the likelihood of BW135 happening on July 6-8th was slim. And yet, the field of runners, all of whom bonded throughout the pandemic, wished and hoped for a ray of light. There was the emergency room doctor in Italy who trained through the nights on trails. The runner who ran in various superhero costumes through her neighborhood, and runners trudging through snow as late as early June. With most gyms closed, making saunas unavailable for heat training, there were creative discussions on ad-hoc heat-training. We all chimed in regularly and cheered one another on. The stresses of the world were not lost on any of us and we never for a moment lost the gravity of the situations around us in our various countries, cities, and states, but the race was a way for us to come together, to aspire and inspire. It was a way for us to dream big in a span when dreams seemed to be shelved for another year. 

We all prepared for the race as best we could from our separate corners of the world, quarantining, some of us reduced to running in circles around our homes, or indoors, trying to stay positive and healthy. The reality of the situation made us pause: was traveling to Death Valley the right thing to do? Was it the right thing to put our crews through? And yet, after being sick for some of March and most of April, when I thought about journeying through the desert, of being in Death Valley, the dry and consuming feel of the heat, the wispy sound of the desert wind, passing through the darkest and deepest places in my heart, mind, and soul, it seemed right. The great thing about running long distance is that it affords you time to think, to look within, and in a time when we are being told so much, asked to make choices and shifts, I’m a big believer in pausing to make sense of the world around me; in taking a time out to tune in. I have never left Death Valley the same person I was when I entered it. Of my four attempts at Badwater 135, three resulted in my crossing the finish line. My DNF in 2018 taught me that while I won’t always succeed, I will always learn and grow from my failures. The journey is a win/win situation for me.

Race Director Chris Kostman was relentless in his efforts to host the race. Meetings with Inyo County, with the National Park Service, with Death Valley National Park. While the race has become synonymous with family reunion for the runners – veterans and newbies alike – there is also the element of community we feel with Inyo County. If you have been fortunate to return year after year, the Death Valley National Park team are friends – they cheer us on pre-race and along the course and make sure we adhere to the rules sometimes, too. They are a critical part of our journey and safety.

On Tuesday, June 23rd, we received word that all permits were secured, and the race was on. There was a collective sigh of relief – we were racing, or at least the U.S. runners were. It had become clear in the days preceding that most international runners would not be able to enter the U.S. Then, on Wednesday, June 24th, a 5.8 earthquake hit the Lone Pine area, where the race finishes, causing a landslide which closed the race finish line area and road leading to it. Search and Rescue teams went out to look for victims, while geologists began to assess this past weekend to determine if it is safe to re-open the area. We were still hopeful, until we learned that new COVID-19 cases were reported in Inyo County, after weeks of improvement; we had also heard all week of the spike in corona-virus cases in Florida, Texas, and Nevada, all locations where runners and crew members were flying in from. As Inyo County is a remote, rural area with only two small hospitals and cannot handle any kind of surge, it became clear that Badwater was not going to happen. 

On Friday evening, ten days before our July 6th start date, in a heartfelt letter, race director Chris Kostman shared, “It is with the deepest regret that I must tell you that the 2020 Badwater 135 Ultramarathon - held annually since 1987 - will not take place this year as we had hoped, planned, and intended.” Kostman concluded, “all 2020 Badwater 135 entrants will be guaranteed entry next year and will receive the 2020 Badwater 135 Official Finishers Buckle when they cross the line in 2021.” While it wasn’t what we all wished to hear, it was amazing to witness the camaraderie of all the racers and the acknowledgement and appreciation of the hard work Kostman had done on our behalf, and everyone’s acceptance of the race’s postponement. Endurance sports are, after all, about adapting and enduring. Ultramarathons are about moving forward when it seems impossible to put one foot in front of the other. In a world full of so many significant issues, we will all be okay without Badwater this year, just a bit sad not to experience the magic of Death Valley on our collective pilgrimage.

When I got up Saturday morning to run, the birds were all still singing, the sun still shining, the world around me vibrant. Although the race had been cancelled for 2020, my dreams had not been cancelled. While the race was postponed, it in no way dimmed my discipline, drive, or commitment to keep striving to be my best. Adversity is perhaps our greatest teacher, even though we may not always recognize it as such right away. As I started my run, my feet moved me forward, and before I knew it, I was already moving into my next chapter with some plans for July 2021 intact.

Safe, healthy, and meaningful journeys to all as we move through 2020!