Local woman finds happiness while running tough races

Barb Elias swears her favorite pastime isn't even close to being lethal, even when she's almost knocking on death's door and actually feeling pretty darn alive."The only time I would stop is if I knew I was going to do permanent damage to my lungs, if I was going to really mess myself up," Elias says. "But other than that I don't give up - never." Whether she's hiking across a mountain range or loping for countless miles down a hot desert road, this Yuma woman is happiest when she's pushing herself to great physical extremes as a racer - an extreme racer, to be exact.

Lots of people run races, but Elias prefers events that involve a lot more than just running. Her kind of races tend to combine distance, terrain, altitude, completion deadlines and even temperature to create a challenge to the body and mind that would make most folks take the first ambulance home.

"I know it sounds funny, but racing is how I handle my stress," Elias said, chuckling. "You learn so much of what you're actually capable of doing physically and mentally, it's a great way to be outdoors and you kind of just get hooked."

It turns out that making it across the finish line puts life in perspective, too.

"When you finish and look back and think 'Oh, I didn't do that,'" Elias said. "It makes you think 'If I can do that, then everything else in my life is okay.' You learn that you can do some amazing things when you set your mind to it."

Elias runs races called ultamarathons. They're longer than the traditional 26-mile marathon, often stretching from 50K (31 miles) to 160K (100 miles). But don't forget about the landscape. These races certainly aren't on any track. Elias said ultramarathons in the East are mostly run on flat ground like straightforward road runs, while events here in the West tend to throw in some desert, hills and/or mountains.

"You want to make it interesting for people," she said. "It's mostly walking and running, but if there are mountains there can be a lot of hiking, too."

For example, a course near Salt Lake City takes runners on a climb of 25,000 feet over 100 miles. Plus there is a 36-hour time limit, although Elias knocked that challenge down in a mere 30 hours and 18 minutes.

Those long hours mean that racers sometimes have to sleep while the stop watch ticks.

"Basically you've got so many hours to complete your mission. What you do in those hours is up to you," Elias said. "Most people take 15 to 20 minute naps. I know I'm having a bad day if I have to lie down."

This type of racing truly pits racers in battles against themselves in the struggle to continue, keep going and hopefully not conk out before the finish line. Even when thoughts and physical signals like burning feet and dehydration tell a racer to stop, the mission is to rebel and refuse to listen.

"You have to be self-reliant. Ultimately, it's very much a mental kind of thing," Elias explained. "There is going to be pain. You are going to be uncomfortable. There are times when you're going to be feeling good and having fun, but other times your body is going to be breaking down or you're going to be battling the weather. So you just have to dig down deep - and keep going."

Elias sure put that thinking to the test this summer during a race considered to be the mother of all ultramarathons in this country. It's called the Badwater Ultramarathon and it's billed by its organizers as "the world's toughest foot face."

"... a true challenge of the champions, this legendary foot race pits approximately up to 90 of the world's toughest athletes, runners, triathletes, adventure racers and mountaineers against one another and the elements," says Badwater organizer Chris Kostman on his Web site.

Badwater's course stretches from infamously hellish Death Valley to Mount Whitney, covering 135 non-stop miles that vary from 280 feet below sea level to 8,360 above it. The race covers three mountain ranges and takes place during the roasting 130-degree heat of July.

"Badwater was a lot longer and harder than what I usually do. It was also the hottest," Elias said.

This race is so hard and so well-known that races don't just pay and go. Racers have to be accepted into the event and must demonstrate that they have a fighting chance of making it through. This year 84 people began the race and 76 actually finished, which Elias said didn't surprise her, given the caliber of racers involved.

To keep racers going, most events have aid stations with hydration, snacks and maybe the chance to get doused by some cool water.

Racers also rely heavily on their crews - people charged with monitoring the racer's safety and seeing to his or her needs during periodic meet-ups. To assess if a break is needed - or the race needs to be stopped - the crew provides a system of checks and balances.

"When you are sick you may not be thinking straight," Elias said. "Sometimes you need someone else to tell you to stop or to lay down."

She's heard of people having heart attacks and even dying during extreme events, but she's never seen anything like that at her races. She's landed in the emergency room herself, due to a race's bad impact on her asthma.

"In a 100-mile race, after 50 miles you start hurting. Your muscles start aching. You're just tired," she said. "By 70 miles you're taking Ibuprofen just to take the edge off. It might be dark and cold, but you keep cruising along. Then by 90 miles the adrenaline pumps up again and you're just so excited that you just keep going no matter what."

Thankfully for Elias, she's also got the help of a physician's assistant - herself. She works for Yuma Cardiology Associates, where the staff goes all out to cheer on their favorite runner. They were even able to watch her progress during Badwater via a special feature on the Internet. When she returned home from the event, the clinic's lawn boasted a big sign of congratulations.

Elias often runs her races over the weekend, sometimes taking Monday off, but always getting right back to work. It usually takes her three to four weeks to get back to normal.

"You can get pretty messed up, but you learn how to take care of your body."

But don't think that Elias is crazy and beating up her body. In fact the opposite is true.

"I feel great, especially right after the race," she said. "I actually think racing has improved my health. I'm much healthier than I was in my 20s. I certainly don't feel 45."

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Darin Fenger can be reached at

dfenger@yumasun.com or 539-6860.