Finding their footing

The least fortunate of the participants in the second Outback in the Ozarks event ran uphill on winding roads in the dead of night.

But even the luckiest runners didn't have it easy. They all ran 15 to 18 miles split among three legs of a 30-hour race and traversed several Northwest Arkansas cities in the process.

A showcase of the region's most scenic countryside, the race grew in its second year to 18 teams of runners covering 200 miles in a madcap relay. The prizes that greet finishers include a barbecue dinner, a shirt and for the winning team, a traveling boomerang trophy.

Race director Kimberlee Guin argues that the prize for some comes earlier. The 200-mile trek passes through Ozark hills, around creeks and through scenic bypasses. It also enters five state parks: Hobbs State Park-Conservation Area, Withrow Springs, Lake Fort Smith, Devil's Den and finally the Prairie Grove Battlefield, which doubles as the finishing line.

"People don't know how gorgeous Arkansas is," Guin says.

Long-distance runaround

The idea for a 200-mile relay run is not new. Guin borrowed the concept from Ragnar, which started as a single 188-mile journey in Utah and has since evolved into a national relay series of similar design and distance. Guin's participation in a previous Ragnar prompted her desire for a similar event in Northwest Arkansas. But the idea of running on paved roads troubled her, and the plan remained dormant. While staying at a cabin in Eureka Springs, she had her eureka moment. If she could design a course that primarily used forest-service roads instead of paved highways, she believed it would work.

"There's an inherent risk any time you run on the road," Guin says.

That principle of avoiding paved highways carried over into the design of the course, which debuted in 2013 and was altered in 2014. The race begins at Lake Leatherwood City Park just outside of Eureka Springs. It then winds south toward the intersection of Arkansas 23 and Arkansas 12 and turns west into Hobbs State Park before bending toward War Eagle Mill. Similarly, it continues to curve south through Withrow Springs, then farther south into Lake Fort Smith State Park before crossing Interstate 49 and entering Devil's Den State Park, then north into Prairie Grove. The course was actually shortened slightly this year. It maintained the 200-mile distance, but several mandatory ferry locations -- during which vehicles transport runners across busy highways -- were eliminated.

A total of 35 exchange points exist on the course -- the locations where one runner ends his segment and another begins the next. The distance of the 36 legs varies and is largely dependent on finding a good exchange zone in remote terrain. Each member of the standard 12-person team is expected to run between 15 and 18 miles of the course. Ultra-distance teams, which consist of six or fewer members, run twice that amount. All full-size team members run three legs. Ultra relay runners might tackle six legs or more.

Support vans consisting of resting team members hover near the runners to provide water, sports drinks or first aid. Each team is required to have two vehicles, one active and therefore in close contact with the runners and the team member waiting to take over. The vans switch between active and inactive status every six stops, meaning there are five such vehicle exchanges on the course. The inactive status allows the passengers time to eat, rest or recuperate.

Super Scale

Eighteen teams started the race at either 7 a.m. or 8 a.m. Friday. Fewer than 200 runners, then, took the challenge with just as many people required to support the runners on the course. Whenever possible, law enforcement officers watch over particularly dangerous parts of the course. For instance, Guin hired an officer to monitor traffic on Arkansas 303 near War Eagle Mill, which hosted a craft show last weekend. The officer's job was to ensure no one sped through the area while the runners were present. Exchanges were open only for a certain length of time, and those who trailed behind the cut-off time were moved forward to the next leg of the race. Participants were monitored constantly, often courtesy of local ham radio operators. A team of 30 such radio operators representing all three area ham clubs relayed information to Guin or other team members, a vital element considering many of the course sections do not receive cellphone service.

All runners are documented at all points during the race. Upon entering the exchange point, racers hit their team partner with a neon slap bracelet that serves as the baton and then immediately sign a spreadsheet verifying that leg is complete. Along the way, two types of teams filter out: competitive teams, those who hit every exchange within the time window and always stay on course, and noncompetitive teams, which don't follow the rules as precisely but finish.

And there are plenty of rules to follow. Several thousand words on the race's website highlight the requirements of teams, both in staying on the course and regarding items they must bring to the race. Most of the verbiage relates to runner safety, specifically the many requirements about running at night, when runners must carry blinking red lights on their backs. The nighttime runs provide for some of the memorable elements but also present their own set of challenges. One law enforcement department along the course started running sobriety checks on passing cars after noticing several potentially unsafe drivers, Guin says.

To say the race is complicated logistically is an understatement; it took Guin's husband, Todd Guin, 30 hours just to place all the signs outlining the course.

An experience

The first year of Outback in the Ozarks, runners slogged through a rare May snowstorm. This year came warmer weather -- almost too warm for running comfort. Michael Dereszynski, a Bentonville resident who is among the few to run part of the course both years, hoped for snow again for the 2014 edition of the race. The heat slowed his team down, although his group, 501 Years of Experience, finished first in the master's division, meaning all the runners are older than 40 years. Between the change of course and the change of temperature, Dereszynski says this event taxed him more than the previous one. His race team, then called 500 Years of Experience, ran about 15 seconds faster per mile last year, he says.

The morning after the 2014 run, as soon as he got out of bed, Dereszynski's calves cramped up, and he fell over. He's better now, and he went for a run on Monday night after work, just two days removed from the race.

His team is made up of friends, with its nucleus a running group based at his church, First United Methodist Church of Bentonville. He met a few of his teammates for the first time on race day, as they were recruited by other members. Though many of the running teams were locally based, many drove in from around the region to participate. All of them paid an entry fee of at least $1,100 per team for the opportunity.

Unsteady footing

Guin's nightmare scenario, the one where runners get hurt on a paved road, and the reason she gives money to the volunteer fire departments that staff the course at night, never played out. No one on the course got hit by a car. Still, running over uncertain trail terrain is difficult enough in the daylight hours. This course does the same through the middle of the night. Guin recalls a story from this year's race where a runner tripped and stumbled into barbed wire.

"She literally yanked it out and kept going. She didn't let that stop her for one minute," Guin says. Another competitor sprained an ankle, and two teams quit altogether. Several teams got lost at some point on the course and had to backtrack. Dereszynski says his team miscalculated an exchange time, and when a runner completed his leg, there was no one waiting to take his place. Their team resumed running 30 minutes later when relief arrived in the form of the next runner. Even with that 30-minute delay, team 501 Years of Experience beat its goal time by about 5 percent, Dereszynski says. And he would know: He plotted every predicted start and finish time on a color-coded spreadsheet.

Guin says the runners are learning. Charts may work for one team. Others simply brought more supplies.

"They were more prepared, and the word got out that it was a tough course," she says.

It's also tough on the Guins. Even though more runners participated in this year's race, Outback in the Ozarks is not a money-making endeavor. Guin promises she and her husband will fulfill their promise to make a charitable donation to two organizations: Youth Bridge and Friends of Hobbs. Next year's race will need some combination of more runners and more sponsors.

"We're kind of re-evaluating it," Guin says. "It's got to grow enough that it's feasible."

Meanwhile, Dereszynski and his entire team are ready for another 200 miles in the Ozarks and for another 30-plus hours scrambling toward that goal.

"Absolutely. Everybody that raced wants to do it again," he says.