The Barkley Fall Classic (BFC) is no ordinary race. Modeled after the legendary Barkley Marathons, it’s designed to push runners to the edge of their physical and mental limits. Set in the rugged and unforgiving terrain of Frozen Head State Park, Tennessee, the BFC serves as a brutal reminder that not every race is meant to be finished. With its insane elevation gain, treacherous trails, and unforgiving cutoffs, this race is designed to make you question everything. I knew this well, having attempted the race in 2017 and only making it through half the course. This year, I was determined to finish.
I spent the entire year preparing for this moment. My training wasn’t just about logging miles. I lifted heavy weights six days a week—hundreds of pushups, burpees, pull-ups, rope pulls, squats, and countless hours of upper body work. Hills became my best friend and greatest enemy, and I ran them relentlessly. When the weather didn’t cooperate, I cranked the treadmill up to a 30% grade and walked. I had to be ready for anything the BFC would throw at me, including the infamous climbs and rugged terrain that demand full-body strength as much as endurance.
Race Day
Race day began deceptively simple, as it often does at the BFC. The first few miles were manageable, with gentle trails that almost let you forget what was coming. But soon, the real challenge revealed itself—maddening switchbacks, lung-burning climbs, and brutal elevation gains. The race’s total elevation topped out at over 12,000 feet—about half the height of Mount Everest. The further we progressed, the more we found ourselves clawing up unassisted climbs, grabbing onto tree branches and roots to pull ourselves higher. Each step was hard-earned, and the mountain was relentless.
I ran much farther than I had in 2017. My legs, hands, and mind were stronger than before, and I was ready to push beyond my previous limits.
The Turning Point: Rat Jaw
At one point, I was running with a partner, someone who had kept pace with me for a good portion of the race. But with the cutoffs looming, I knew I had to make a decision: stay with them or try to make up time on my own. Dropping my partner was tough, but I had trained for this moment, and the race doesn’t wait for anyone. So, I pressed on, determined to meet that cutoff.
But Rat Jaw, one of the most notorious sections of the course, nearly broke me. The climb up Rat Jaw is brutal—steep, slick, and covered in thorny sawbriars. As I made my way up, I lost my footing. In a terrifying split second, I nearly plummeted 60 feet down the slope. My heart raced, and for a moment, it felt like everything was over. But instinct and training kicked in. I grabbed onto the nearest branch with every ounce of strength I had left and pulled myself back up, inch by inch, until I was able to recover and continue the climb.
It was a near-death moment, one that made me even more determined to finish.
The Final Stretch
I fought for every inch of that course, running up every hill, clawing up every climb, and pushing through exhaustion that felt like it could swallow me whole. But as I neared the final stretch, the dreaded time limit caught up to me. Despite my best efforts, I missed the final cutoff by just two minutes. Two minutes. It was agonizing to come so close, to run the entire course, only to be held back by the unforgiving clock.
While I didn’t officially finish, I’m proud of how far I came this year. The BFC is a test of mental and physical endurance, and though I didn’t cross the finish line, I fought harder than ever before. I trained for this. I bled for this. I nearly fell off the mountain for this. But next time, those two minutes won’t stand in my way.
The Barkley Fall Classic might have stopped me this year, but the mountain hasn’t seen the last of me. #heavyweights#heavyweight#countlesshours#barkleyfallclassic#bfgunfinished
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