Ferg Hawke:
Man on

Barbara K. Adamski
Features Editor

 

On July 12, 2004, seventy-two
“extreme runners attempted what
many consider the most
demanding foot race in the
world—the 135-mile Badwater
Ultramarathon. Starting in
California’s Death Valley, at the
lowest point in the western hemi-
sphere, athletes set out to run the
equivalent of five marathons, tra-
versing three mountain ranges,
three valley floors, and ending at
the base of Mount Whitney, at an
elevation double the peak of
Grouse Mountain. Fifty-seven
athletes completed in the allotted
time of 60 hours.

A few did it in under 30. Ferg
Hawke was one of them.

With a time of 27 hours, 30 min-
utes, and 20 seconds, Hawke sur-
prised everyone—including him-
self—with a second-place finish in
a time that would have seen victo-
ry at all but two Badwater events.
Why the surprise? For one thing,
Hawke doesn’t look the part. “?’m
too big to be an ultrarunner,” he
says, noting that many of the
competitors substantially
smaller and leaner than 6 foot,
180-pound Hawke. For another, it
was his first attempt at Badwater,
and most winners are veterans at
the race. And the third? Hawke’s
Canadian.

are

For seven or eight months prior
to this race, 46-year-old Hawke
trained, peaking at 100-plus miles
a week. He created a solarium on
the deck of his home in White
Rock, BC—complete with solar
panels, two heaters, and a tread-
mill—to simulate Death Valley
conditions. Entering his workout
room, he would open the sliding
door just enough to allow his large
frame and tray of six water bottles

24 | OtherPress

 
   
 
   

Features

Barbara K. Adamski | adamski @telus.net

   

Photos by Ryan Mckenzie

through, careful to not let any heat
escape. With a quick glance at the
thermometer he’d verify that, at 58
degrees Celsius, the temperature
was just as it should be—unbear-
ably hot to the average person.

Being no average person, Hawke
would hop onto the treadmill,
program it to include steep
inclines, and start running, usually
for two hours straight. Three
weeks before Badwater, he
tapered off his training and
allowed his body to rest for what
he rightly anticipated would be his
hardest race yet.

His main concern, both before
and during the race, was the heat.
Death Valley’s temperatures can
reach the high 50s, and road sur-
face temperatures get so hot that
running shoe gel sacs burst.

The race itself was as gruelling
as Hawke had expected, forcing

him to run through the heat of the
day, a long, sleepless night, then a
final hot morning. Almost every-
thing was done on the move: eat-
ing (a peanut butter sandwich at
the 80-mile mark), drinking, uri-
nating (When pressed for more
details urinating, Hawke
replied, “Think garden hose ...
squeeze, release, squeeze ... you
just kind of keep running and it
doesn’t hit you.”) The few stops
he made were to change shoes,
have his blisters nursed, and take

on

one bathroom break.

To combat the intense summer
sun, Hawke wore a shirt and pants
made of sunscreen material and a
hat modified to protect his neck.
He ran along the white road line
where it’s a few degrees cooler. To
prevent his toenails from rubbing,
Hawke cut the tops off the front
of his shoes, wore special socks
that separated and protected indi-
vidual toes, and changed shoes
regularly. He used three pairs of
running shoes in varying sizes (all
broken in in advance and labelled
for easy recognition) to accommo-
date swelling feet, and a pair of
running sandals. Even with these
precautions, Hawke lost five toe-
nails and gained several blisters.

With just seven and a half min-
utes between five-time Badwater
competitor Dean Karnazes of San
Francisco and Hawke, the 2004
race saw the narrowest margin of
victory in its 27-year history.
Through most of the course,
however, Hawke held the lead. But
by the second morning of the
race, had _ reduced
Hawke’s 47-minute lead to a mere
12 minutes, then managed to beat

Karnazes

With a quick glance at the
thermometer hed verify that,
Beat 58 degrees Celst

Hawke’s time in the final 13 miles
of the race. Still Hawke is very
happy with his performance, but
“I wish I was eight minutes
faster,’ he says with a laugh.
Interestingly, this wasn’t the first
time for the two to compete
against each other. In 1998, both
ran the Western States 100-mile
endurance run in Sierra Nevada.
Hawke came in 18th, Karnazes
20th. They didn’t meet personally,
however, until this race. Hawke
calls Karnazes a real classy guy

August 2004

and an unbelievable runner. “I’ve
been a fan of his
years,” he says.

Contestants in Badwater started
at three different times: 6, 8, and
10am. Hawke was in the 8am time
slot; Karnazes in the 10am slot,
where ideally all top competitors
should have been. Hawke’s
impressive running résumé was
either not carefully read, or his
capabilities were grossly underesti-
mated. It’s unfortunate that the
two weren't pitted against each
other. “It would have been a lot
more exciting, certainly, for the
people who were watching, for the
crews, for myself,’ says Hawke,
“as well as for the TV coverage
that was there. We were going
neck in neck for that last bit. That
would have been a pretty dramatic
finish.”

As for what motivates someone
like Hawke to go the extra mile, so
to speak, he says, “I really enjoy
pushing myself. I wanted to do
Badwater to see if I could.”

Crossing the finish line, howev-
et, Hawke said it would be his first
and last Badwater Ultramarathon.
He then sat and enjoyed a cold
beer, compliments of his trusty
and well-trained crew captain,
who always makes sure there’s one
at the finish line. “He knows that’s
what I want, so that’s what he has
for me,” says Hawke. “I crossed
the finish line; I broke the tape. I
was pretty out of it. And I looked
up and there’s Glenn [LaHay]
standing there with a smile on his
face, and a beer in his hand.”
Molson Canadian, of course.

Two weeks post-race, Hawke is
taking a break from running to
allow his muscles and joints time
to recover. He focuses on training
for one big race a year. And,
although he hasn’t officially decid-
ed, Hawke is talking about run-
ning Badwater again next year. If
he does, he’ll be setting out to win:
“When I put a number on, I get
pretty competitive.”

for several