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6 Races That Make Marathons Look Wimpy

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I'm currently training for a marathon. When I'm on a long training run and start to think, "This is stupid..." I don't stop and remind myself why I'm trying to run a 26.2-mile race. I prefer to comfort myself with "Yeah, but it's nowhere near as crazy as..." and then fill in a truly absurd feat of human endurance that makes 26.2 miles look positively meager. Here are some favorites:

1. The Barkley Marathons

When assassin James Earl Ray escaped from a Tennessee prison in 1977, he was missing for 55 hours. In that time, he only managed to get eight miles away before being recaptured. Race organizer Gary Cantrell heard this statistic and thought he could make it at least a hundred miles in that time. He organized the Barkley Marathons to test this theory.

Since 1986, elite ultramarathon runners have met in the hills of Frozen Head State Park to have a go at one of the world's most difficult races. Cantrell handpicks the field according to his own whims and applicants' essays on why they should be allowed to run the Barkley. Marathoners have 60 hours to complete five 20-mile loops through the park. Each loop contains over 10,000 feet of vertical climb, and if any loop takes more than 12 hours, the runner is disqualified. The runners trudge along through brambles, unmarked trails, and occasionally both snow and blistering heat during the same race.

Don't think that 100 miles in 60 hours sounds so tough? Since the race's inception over 500 elite runners have tried to finish the 100-mile trek. Seven have successfully finished the race. Cantrell's not a total sadist, though; he also offers a companion "fun run" to go along with his monstrous trail run. Fun runners only have to finish 60 miles of the course in 40 hours. Sounds like a lot of fun, right? [Image courtesy of Dave Harper.]

2. Badwater Ultramarathon

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The Barkley Marathons have some competition for the title of "World's Toughest Race," though. The idea behind the Badwater Ultramarathon is fairly simple: when it's really hot, it's tough to do anything active, much less run 135 hilly miles. Starting in 1987, though, devoted runners have been trying to make a dash from the Badwater Basin in Death Valley to the Whitney Portal, Mount Whitney's trailhead, each July.

That's right, Death Valley in July. Temperatures have been known to reach 120 degrees in the shade, and runners have been known to run on the white lines on the side of the road to keep the soles of their shoes from melting.

The elevation gain in the race is similarly brutal. The race was originally conceived as a trip between the lowest and highest points of the continental U.S. Runnes would head from Badwater (282 feet below sea level) to the summit of Mount Whitney (14,496 feet). However, the current race "only" goes to Mount Whitney's trailhead due to Forest Service regulations on climbing the mountain. And that doesn't even take into account the pair of mountain ranges in between the two points.

Runners, who must be invited to participate, have 60 hours to complete the course, and usually 60-80% of them do. Some finish much, much faster, though. Last year Brazilian Valmir Nunes destroyed the course record in his first race; he made the trek in just 22 hours and 51 minutes. [Image courtesy of Badwater.com.]

3. Furnace Creek 508

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This race, started in 1989, is the cycling equivalent of Badwater. Starting in just north of Los Angeles in Santa Clarita, CA, cyclists take off through Death Valley and the Mojave Desert in this 508-mile race. Entrants have 48 hours to finish the course, which includes 36,000 feet of elevation gain. For perspective, that's like riding four mountain stages of the Tour de France back-to-back without stopping.

Interestingly, organizers of the event eschew the typical practice of giving each racer a number, opting instead to give entrants animal "totems" by which they can be identified. The totem presumably gives cyclists a head start on picking an animal to hallucinate after spending two grueling days on the saddle of a bike. [Image courtesy of The508.com.]

4. Race Across America

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If pedaling through Death Valley sounds a bit soft, perhaps the Race Across America is tough enough for you. This ultra marathon bike race is exactly what the title makes it out to be; racers get on their bikes in and ride from the West Coast to the East Coast. It bills itself as "The World's Toughest Bike Race."

The race, which began in 1982, is even more strenuous than most long bike tours. Unlike, say, the Tour de France or other races of its kind, there are no stages or designated times to stop and rest in most divisions of the race. Once the clock starts at the beginning of the race, it doesn't pause until entrants start trickling across the finish line. Consequently, there's a lot of pressure to keep riding throughout the night without getting adequate sleep. The time limit for the event is 12 days, so riders can't average more than 4 hours of sleep a day and expect to finish.

The course changes each year, but the winner usually rolls in around eight or nine days after the race starts. Some years 50% of entrants fail to finish due to exhaustion or medical distress. This year's race starts June 8 and will cover 3000 miles between Oceanside, CA and Annapolis, MD.

One of the race website's FAQs compares the event to the Tour de France or climbing Mt. Everest. The Tour de France comparisons are brushed aside; this race is 50% longer and doesn't allow drafting or team tactics. On the topic of Everest, the site speaks for itself: "Mt. Everest and the Race Across America are entirely different. Austrian adventurer Wolfgang Fasching has won solo RAAM three times and climbed Mt. Everest. In his opinion, - Everest is more dangerous, but RAAM is much harder." [Image courtesy of Team Type 1.]

5. Manhattan Island Marathon Swim

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Running and cycling aren't the only sports that lend themselves to feats of absurd endurance. Swimmers looking for a ridiculously difficult even need look no further than the annual Manhattan Island Marathon Swim. Each year a small handful of intrepid individuals meet in New York and brave the waters of the East, Hudson, and Harlem Rivers to circumnavigate giant loop around Manhattan. The course is 28.5 miles long, and takes over seven hours to complete. While continuously swimming for seven-plus hours would be impressive under any circumstances, these athletes have to deal with boats, pollution, and what the event's website describes as "random jetsam and flotsam in the waterways." Probably best not to think about what said jetsam and flotsam might be. To make things tougher, wetsuits aren't allowed, either.

The event is popular, though. When it began in 1982, only 12 people swam the race; last year there were 90 entrants. Due to strong currents and dirty water that hinders visibility, each solo swimmer needs a guide in a kayak or motorboat to steer them in the right direction. There are also unexpected problems. A hard rain during the race can make Manhattan's antiquated sewage system back up into the river, which lead to cancellations in 2003 and 2005. [Image courtesy of NYCSwim.org.]

6. Colac Six Day Race

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As if the aforementioned examples didn't seem challenging enough, a certain small subset of ultramarathon runners have taken on the challenge of multiday races that go beyond the ones listed here. Take, for instance, the Colac Six Day Race. Instead of seeing who can go the fastest on a given course, runners meet up most years in Colac, Australia, and see who can run the most laps around a 440m track. Sure, there are no hills, but the scenery never changes, either. Just six days of running in circles around a track.

The static environment doesn't slow down the competitors, though. In 2005 Greece's Yiannis Kouros, possibly the world's greatest ultra runner, broke the world distance record for such an event by going 1036.80 kilometers in the six days. He needed some help from his competition, though; according to the event's website, Vlastk Skvaril generously gave Kouros his ice vest to help lower his blood temperature when it started to get too high. What these events lack in mainstream appeal, they make up for in sportsmanship and ownership of frozen vests. [Image courtesy of SixDayRace.com.au.]

Ethan Trex grew up idolizing Vince Coleman, and he kind of still does. Ethan co-writes Straight Cash, Homey, the Internet's undisputed top source for pictures of people in Ryan Leaf jerseys.

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11 Popular Quotes Commonly Misattributed to F. Scott Fitzgerald
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F. Scott Fitzgerald wrote a lot of famous lines, from musings on failure in Tender is the Night to “so we beat on, boats against the current” from The Great Gatsby. Yet even with a seemingly never-ending well of words and beautiful quotations, many popular idioms and phrases are wrongly attributed to the famous Jazz Age author, who was born on this day in 1896. Here are 11 popular phrases that are often misattributed to Fitzgerald. (You may need to update your Pinterest boards.)

1. “WRITE DRUNK, EDIT SOBER.”

This quote is often attributed to either Fitzgerald or his contemporary, Ernest Hemingway, who died in 1961. There is no evidence in the collected works of either writer to support that attribution; the idea was first associated with Fitzgerald in a 1996 Associated Press story, and later in Stephen Fry’s memoir More Fool Me. In actuality, humorist Peter De Vries coined an early version of the phrase in a 1964 novel titled Reuben, Reuben.

2. “FOR WHAT IT’S WORTH: IT’S NEVER TOO LATE OR, IN MY CASE, TOO EARLY TO BE WHOEVER YOU WANT TO BE.”

It’s easy to see where the mistake could be made regarding this quote: Fitzgerald wrote the short story “The Curious Case of Benjamin Button” in 1922 for Collier's Magazine, and it was adapted into a movie of the same name, directed by David Fincher and starring Brad Pitt and Cate Blanchett, in 2008. Eric Roth wrote the screenplay, in which that quotation appears.

3. “OUR LIVES ARE DEFINED BY OPPORTUNITIES, EVEN THE ONES WE MISS.”

This is a similar case to the previous quotation; this quote is attributed to Benjamin Button’s character in the film adaptation. It’s found in the script, but not in the original short story.

4. “YOU’LL UNDERSTAND WHY STORMS ARE NAMED AFTER PEOPLE.”

There is no evidence that Fitzgerald penned this line in any of his known works. In this Pinterest pin, it is attributed to his novel The Beautiful and Damned. However, nothing like that appears in the book; additionally, according to the National Atmospheric and Oceanic Association, although there were a few storms named after saints, and an Australian meteorologist was giving storms names in the 19th century, the practice didn’t become widespread until after 1941. Fitzgerald died in 1940.

5. “A SENTIMENTAL PERSON THINKS THINGS WILL LAST. A ROMANTIC PERSON HAS A DESPERATE CONFIDENCE THAT THEY WON’T.”

This exact quote does not appear in Fitzgerald’s work—though a version of it does, in his 1920 novel This Side of Paradise:

“No, I’m romantic—a sentimental person thinks things will last—a romantic person hopes against hope that they won’t. Sentiment is emotional.” The incorrect version is widely circulated and requoted.

6. “IT’S A FUNNY THING ABOUT COMING HOME. NOTHING CHANGES. EVERYTHING LOOKS THE SAME, FEELS THE SAME, EVEN SMELLS THE SAME. YOU REALIZE WHAT’S CHANGED IS YOU.”

This quote also appears in the 2008 The Curious Case of Benjamin Button script, but not in the original short story.

7. “GREAT BOOKS WRITE THEMSELVES; ONLY BAD BOOKS HAVE TO BE WRITTEN.”

There is no evidence of this quote in any of Fitzgerald’s writings; it mostly seems to circulate on websites like qotd.org, quotefancy.com and azquotes.com with no clarification as to where it originated.

8. “SHE WAS BEAUTIFUL, BUT NOT LIKE THOSE GIRLS IN THE MAGAZINES. SHE WAS BEAUTIFUL FOR THE WAY SHE THOUGHT. SHE WAS BEAUTIFUL FOR THE SPARKLE IN HER EYES WHEN SHE TALKED ABOUT SOMETHING SHE LOVED. SHE WAS BEAUTIFUL FOR HER ABILITY TO MAKE OTHER PEOPLE SMILE, EVEN IF SHE WAS SAD. NO, SHE WASN’T BEAUTIFUL FOR SOMETHING AS TEMPORARY AS HER LOOKS. SHE WAS BEAUTIFUL, DEEP DOWN TO HER SOUL.”

This quote may have originated in a memoir/advice book published in 2011 by Natalie Newman titled Butterflies and Bullshit, where it appears in its entirety. It was attributed to Fitzgerald in a January 2015 Thought Catalog article, and was quoted as written by an unknown source in Hello, Beauty Full: Seeing Yourself as God Sees You by Elisa Morgan, published in September 2015. However, there’s no evidence that Fitzgerald said or wrote anything like it.

9. “AND IN THE END, WE WERE ALL JUST HUMANS, DRUNK ON THE IDEA THAT LOVE, ONLY LOVE, COULD HEAL OUR BROKENNESS.”

Christopher Poindexter, the successful Instagram poet, wrote this as part of a cycle of poems called “the blooming of madness” in 2013. After a Twitter account called @SirJayGatsby tweeted the phrase with no attribution, it went viral as being attributed to Fitzgerald. Poindexter has addressed its origin on several occasions.

10. “YOU NEED CHAOS IN YOUR SOUL TO GIVE BIRTH TO A DANCING STAR.”

This poetic phrase is actually derived from the work of philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche, who died in 1900, just four years after Fitzgerald was born in 1896. In his book Thus Spake ZarathustraNietzsche wrote the phrase, “One must have chaos within to enable one to give birth to a dancing star.” Over time, it’s been truncated and modernized into the currently popular version, which was included in the 2009 book You Majored in What?: Designing Your Path from College to Career by Katharine Brooks.

11. “FOR THE GIRLS WITH MESSY HAIR AND THIRSTY HEARTS.”

This quote is the dedication in Jodi Lynn Anderson’s book Tiger Lily, a reimagining of the classic story of Peter Pan. While it is often attributed to Anderson, many Tumblr pages and online posts cite Fitzgerald as its author.

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Fumbled: The Story of the United States Football League
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There were supposed to be 44 players marching to the field when the visiting Los Angeles Express played their final regular season game against the Orlando Renegades in June 1985.

Thirty-six of them showed up. The team couldn’t afford more.

“We didn’t even have money for tape,” Express quarterback Steve Young said in 1986. “Or ice.” The squad was so poor that Young played fullback during the game. They only had one, and he was injured.

Other teams had ridden school buses to practice, driven three hours for “home games,” or shared dressing room space with the local rodeo. In August 1986, the cash-strapped United States Football League called off the coming season. The league itself would soon vaporize entirely after gambling its future on an antitrust lawsuit against the National Football League. The USFL argued the NFL was monopolizing television time; the NFL countered that the USFL—once seen as a promising upstart—was being victimized by its own reckless expansion and the wild spending of team owners like Donald Trump.

They were both right.

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Spring football. That was David Dixon’s pitch. The New Orleans businessman and football advocate—he helped get the Saints in his state—was a fan of college ball and noticed that spring scrimmages at Tulane University led to a little more excitement in the air. With a fiscally responsible salary cap in place and a 12-team roster, he figured his idea could be profitable. Market research agreed: a hired broadcast research firm asserted 76 percent of fans would watch what Dixon had planned.

He had no intention of grappling with the NFL for viewers. That league’s season aired from September through January, leaving a football drought March through July. And in 1982, a players’ strike led to a shortened NFL season, making the idea of an alternative even more appealing to networks. Along with investors for each team region, Dixon got ABC and the recently-formed ESPN signed to broadcast deals worth a combined $35 million over two years.

When the Chicago Blitz faced the Washington Federals on the USFL’s opening day March 6, 1983, over 39,000 fans braved rain at RFK Stadium in Washington to see it. The Federals lost 28-7, foreshadowing their overall performance as one of the league’s worst. Owner Berl Bernhard would later complain the team played like “untrained gerbils.”

Anything more coordinated might have been too expensive. The USFL had instituted a strict $1.8 million salary cap that first year to avoid franchise overspending, but there were allowances made so each team could grab one or two standout rookies. In 1983, the big acquisition was Heisman Trophy winner Herschel Walker, who opted out of his senior year at Georgia to turn pro. Walker signed with the New Jersey Generals in a three-year, $5 million deal.

Jim Kelly and Steve Young followed. Stan White left the Detroit Lions. Marcus Dupree left college. The rosters were built up from scratch using NFL cast-offs or prospects from nearby colleges, where teams had rights to “territorial” drafts.

To draw a line in the sand, the USFL had advertising play up the differences between the NFL’s product and their own. Their slogan, “When Football Was Fun,” was a swipe at the NFL’s increasingly draconian rules regarding players having any personality. They also advised teams to run a series of marketable halftime attractions. The Denver Gold once offered a money-back guarantee for attendees who weren’t satisfied. During one Houston Gamblers game, boxer George Foreman officiated a wedding. Cars were given away at Tampa Bay Bandits games. The NFL, the upstart argued, stood for the No Fun League.

For a while, it appeared to be working. The Panthers, which had invaded the city occupied by the Detroit Lions, averaged 60,000 fans per game, higher than their NFL counterparts. ABC was pleased with steady ratings. The league was still conservative in their spending.

That would change—many would argue for the worse—with the arrival of Donald Trump.

Despite Walker’s abilities on the field, his New Jersey Generals ended the inaugural 1983 season at 6-12, one of the worst records in the league. The excitement having worn off, owner J. Walter Duncan decided to sell the team to real estate investor Trump for a reported $5-9 million.

A fixture of New York media who was putting the finishing touches on Trump Tower, Trump introduced two extremes to the USFL. His presence gave the league far more press attention than it had ever received, but his bombastic approach to business guaranteed he wouldn’t be satisfied with an informal salary cap. Trump spent and spent some more, recruiting players to improve the Generals. Another Heisman winner, quarterback Doug Flutie, was signed to a five-year, $7 million contract, the largest in pro football at the time. Trump even pursued Lawrence Taylor, then a player for the New York Giants, who signed a contract saying that, after his Giants contract expired, he’d join Trump’s team. The Giants wound up buying out the Taylor/Trump contract for $750,000 and quadrupled Taylor’s salary, and Trump wound up with pages of publicity.

Trump’s approach was effective: the Generals improved to 14-4 in their sophomore season. But it also had a domino effect. In order to compete with the elevated bar of talent, other team owners began spending more, too. In a race to defray costs, the USFL approved six expansion teams that paid a buy-in of $6 million each to the league.

It did little to patch the seams. Teams were so cash-strapped that simple amenities became luxuries. The Michigan Panthers dined on burnt spaghetti and took yellow school buses to training camp; players would race to cash checks knowing the last in line stood a chance of having one bounce. When losses became too great, teams began to merge with one another: The Washington Federals became the Orlando Renegades. By the 1985 season, the USFL was down to 14 teams. And because the ABC contract required the league to have teams in certain top TV markets, ABC started withholding checks.

Trump was unmoved. Since taking over the Generals, he had been petitioning behind the scenes for the other owners to pursue a shift to a fall season, where they would compete with the NFL head on. A few owners countered that fans had already voiced their preference for a spring schedule. Some thought it would be tantamount to league suicide.

Trump continued to push. By the end of the 1984 season, he had swayed opinion enough for the USFL to plan on one final spring block in 1985 before making the move to fall in 1986.

In order to make that transition, they would have to win a massive lawsuit against the NFL.

In the mid-1980s, three major networks meant that three major broadcast contracts would be up for grabs—and the NFL owned all three. To Trump and the USFL, this constituted a monopoly. They filed suit in October 1984. By the time it went to trial in May 1986, the league had shrunk from 18 teams to 14, hadn’t hosted a game since July 1985, kept only threadbare rosters, and was losing what existing television deals it had by migrating to smaller markets (a major part of the NFL’s case was that the real reason for the lawsuit, and the moves to smaller markets, was to make the league an attractive takeover prospect for the NFL). The ruling—which could have forced the NFL to drop one of the three network deals—would effectively become the deciding factor of whether the USFL would continue operations.

They came close. A New York jury deliberated for 31 hours over five days. After the verdict, jurors told press that half believed the NFL was guilty of being a monopoly and were prepared to offer the USFL up to $300 million in damages; the other half thought the USFL had been crippled by its own irresponsible expansion efforts. Neither side would budge.

To avoid a hung jury, it was decided they would find in favor of the USFL but only award damages in the amount of $1. One juror told the Los Angeles Times that she thought it would be an indication for the judge to calculate proper damages.

He didn’t. The USFL was awarded treble damages for $3 in total, an amount that grew slightly with interest after time for appeal. The NFL sent them a payment of $3.76. (Less famously, the NFL was also ordered to pay $5.5 million in legal fees.)

Rudy Shiffer, vice-president of the Memphis Showboats, summed up the USFL's fate shortly after the ruling was handed down. “We’re dead,” he said.

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