DEATH VALLEY — The inevitable question is why. That's what people really want to know.
Why would a 45-year-old mother of two who otherwise lives comfortably in upscale Hidden Hills choose to run 135 miles through one of the hottest places on Earth, without sleep, in July, during a heat wave that has left most Southern Californians uncomfortably sitting on their living room sofas?
They hear the tales of exhaustion, dehydration, fits of vomiting and hallucinations, the unbearable pain of landing heel to toe on a bloated, blistered stump that only partway into a race doesn't look much like a foot anymore, and the curious assume that a pot of cash or some really nice prizes must be at stake.
Which is when Shannon Farar-Griefer shows them her trophy -- the pewter belt buckle she received for finishing last year's Kiehl's Badwater Ultramarathon in less than 48 hours.
And, of course, they still don't get it.
"They see the buckle and go, 'You do all that ... for \o7that\f7?' " she says.
"They don't understand."
They would understand even less had they seen her Tuesday afternoon, more than 80 miles into this year's race, well into her third pair of sneakers -- she started in a size 7, expected to finish in a 9 -- one of her toes resembling a small, partially inflated balloon, the insides of her groin area raw from chafing.
"I can't wear underwear and you should see my feet," Farar-Griefer said as she paused to slow to a walk. "They're all blisters. I'm in so much pain."
But ...
"As much as I want to quit, I won't. As much as I want to say 'I want to go home to Hidden Hills,' I'm not."
Such is the determination of an ultramarathoner, the definition of runners who compete in races longer than the standard marathon distance of 26 miles 385 yards.
On Monday, 85 runners -- 68 men, 17 women -- left from Badwater, a map dot about 30 miles from the Nevada state line at the eastern edge of Death Valley National Park, the lowest point in the Western Hemisphere, 282 feet below sea level. The finish line, more than five marathons from the start, is at the Mt. Whitney Portals, trailhead to the highest point in the contiguous United States.
Along the way, the course winds through three mountain ranges, salt flats, sand dunes and aptly named places such as Stovepipe Wells and Furnace Creek, where, years ago, the air temperature is said to have hit 134 degrees.
