In 2017 I watched a fascinating documentary entitled: “The Barkley Marathons: The Race That Eats Its Young.”
The Barkley Marathon is an endurance race held in March of each year.
The race was the idea of “Lazarus Lake” who has lived his entire life near Brushy Mountain State Penitentiary. Because the landscape around the prison is so rugged, no prisoner who has ever escaped has gotten away. Invariably the land itself does them in.
Lazarus was a runner and decided to invent a race inspired by the idea of a prison break.
In the Barkley Marathon race, runners are given GPS coordinates for a specific number of books which are hidden in the woods throughout the course. Runners need to navigate with their compass to locate each of the books … then tear a page out of each book and bring it back with them, in order to prove that they actually found each book.
(Side note – As a tribute to the inspiration for the race, the course always takes runners through a water drainage tunnel underneath Brushy Mountain State Penitentiary, with one of the hidden books always being located somewhere along the outer prison wall.)
After runners successfully collect a page from each hidden book, they head back to the checkpoint … where Lazarus himself double-checks the pages they brought back. They then can take a break, refuel … and head out once more for another identical loop … of traveling the exact same path (in reverse this time), finding each book once again (using GPS coordinates), tearing a page out of each book to prove that it was actually found, then returning once again to the checkpoint with all book pages accounted for.
The race consists of five loops (exactly as described above). It is grueling! It is round the clock for three days straight … running day & night … running regardless of rain, sleet, snow, fog, heat, etc.
I found the documentary about the Barkley Marathon absolutely fascinating! … because it was such an accurate picture of what life itself is like! Life is hard! Life is grueling!
So I wrote a poem about life itself … inspired by the Barkley Marathon.
I wrote this poem in April 2018.
Life’s Barkley Marathon
I’m running, running, running
in Life’s “Barkley Marathon.”
Running, running, running –
keeping on, keeping on!
I run, though I’m weary.
I run, though I ache.
I run until I feel
as if my body’s going to break.
I run through terrain
which is steep and hard to climb.
I run through stark woods
where there is no path or sign.
I run in cold mists
which shroud and hide the way.
I run in cold sleeting rain
that falls all through the day.
I run when the darkness
swallows everything around.
I run through black night
when there’s no light to be found.
I run with my headlamp
shining at my feet …
keeping on, keeping on,
even though I’m beat.
I run across high ridges.
I slide down steep ravines.
I tramp through briars and brambles.
I ford cold swift streams.
Bruised, scratched, and bleeding.
Pushing through the pain.
Keeping on, keeping on
in this mental game.
I run with my compass.
I run with my map.
I run even though
clear direction I might lack.
As I run I’m making progress.
As I run I’m growing strong.
I discover I can help others
in Life’s “Barkley Marathon.”
As I run I can share
what I’ve learned on this race.
I can come alongside struggling runners
and help them set the pace.
I can lend a helping hand
when they stumble and fall down.
I can reach to lift them up
as they climb to higher ground.
I can run alongside with them
through woods stark and bleak,
with my presence as an encouragement,
even though no words we speak.
I can demonstrate my compass,
and show them how to navigate.
I can encourage them to keep keeping on
when they feel like they will break.
I can run alongside with them,
muddy, bruised, and sore,
enduring brambles, briars and thorns,
legs bleeding, scratched, and torn.
I run into the checkpoint –
another loop complete!
I pause for a break,
cause I’m weary, worn, and beat!
I discover at the checkpoint
runners lounging in lawn chairs,
sipping frosty beverages
with a vacation-party air.
These gave up on their marathon;
they’ve tapped out on their race.
They decided it was time to quit
when they couldn’t keep the pace.
Now they relax on the sideline,
lounging in the sun,
not at all concerned
that this race is not yet done.
They wave to weary runners,
stumbling in worn and spent,
while they lounge around the checkpoint,
complacent and content.
They have this expectation
that I will come and sit a spell,
and reminisce along with them
how they ran their portion well.
But I’m bruised, worn, and weary.
I’m in need of food to eat.
My legs are scratched and bleeding.
I’ve painful blisters on my feet.
I need a break to pause and heal.
I need a cup of soup.
I’ve no time to sit and reminisce.
I must start another loop!
I head into the woods
for another loop once more,
leaving the loungers in their chairs,
with feelings hurt and sore.
I refuse to let the loungers
interrupt my stride,
for I know there’s someone out there
who needs me to come alongside.
A fellow-runner on this race
needs a running friend.
So I’ll run alongside them,
and tell them it’s not the end.
We’ll scramble up embankments.
We’ll slide down steep ravines.
We’ll tramp through briars and brambles.
We’ll ford cold, swift streams.
We’ll run across high ridges
where they might have feared to go.
We’ll slacken up the pace
when they need to take it slow.
We’ll run with our headlamps
shining at our feet.
I’ll encourage them to keep keeping on,
even though they’re beat.
I’ll encourage them to not give up,
even though they want to quit,
for they’re building up endurance,
growing stronger bit by bit.
All too soon before we know it,
the checkpoint comes into view.
There sit the loungers
with nothing at all to do.
My marathon-running friend,
whom I’ve just run alongside,
is now ready to go out
and match another fellow-runner’s stride.
I pause at the checkpoint
for salve and a little soup,
then once again I head back out
for another loop.
Running, running, running
in Life’s “Barkley Marathon.”
Running, running, running –
keeping on, keeping on!
Running so others learn
from what I have to share,
so that they, in turn, become
mentor-runners who will care.
By: Amy Hayes
April 2018
