Lazarus Lake is walking across America. Again.
That might sound simple, but if you’ve followed his story, you know there’s nothing simple about Laz—or this journey.
The 70-year-old race director behind the Barkley Marathons and Big’s Backyard Ultra is back on the road this month, continuing the cross-country walk, dubbed Lazcon, he started last year. After calling it quits (temporarily) in Oklahoma in 2024, he’s picked up where he left off—facing wind, rain, old injuries, and new aches, one step at a time.
“Lazarus Lake (70) is back on his trek across the United States,” wrote author and friend Jared Beasley on X on Sunday 6th April. “After stopping last year in Oklahoma, he’s returned to the road—facing harsh wind, rain, and injuries.”
Restarting in Oklahoma, With Sore Feet and No Illusions
Laz is currently back in Oklahoma, working his way west through open prairie and tight hamstrings.
On April 8, Beasley shared that Laz had reached Pawhuska, a small town surrounded by rolling hills and big skies. He’s averaging about 2.5 miles per hour according to Beasley, which might not sound like much—until you consider the layers of pain he’s walking through.
There’s the usual: fatigue, sore legs, weather. But there’s also the less usual:
- A blocked femoral artery
- A 90% blocked carotid artery (which now has a stent)
- Graves’ Disease
- A herniated disc
- A fused neck
- And a body that’s, well, 70.
Beasley’s April 9 update was pure Laz:
“Laz getting a little rub down from the Law. ‘They think I’m homeless.’”
It’s darkly funny. But it also speaks to the quiet, unpolished nature of this mission. There’s no RV, no film crew, no big brand patch on his pack. Just a man walking slowly across the country, mostly by himself, sometimes with a crew, often misunderstood.
Why He’s Doing This (Again)
If this sounds familiar, it’s because Laz already attempted this last year.
Back in April 2024, he dipped his toes in the Atlantic and set out west from Delaware. The goal was to walk all the way to San Francisco—about 3,000 miles—in 150 days, finishing around his 70th birthday.
But life, age, and the realities of a road that doesn’t care how iconic you are got in the way.
He stopped in Foyil, Oklahoma, after covering 1,716 miles in 83 days. It wasn’t the finish line he imagined, but it became a deeply meaningful one. Foyil was the hometown of his father. He’d just visited his parents’ graves the day before. And the town is also home to a statue of Andy Payne, the 1928 winner of the legendary Bunion Derby—the original transcontinental footrace that inspired Laz’s own walk.
In his final post from that journey, Laz wrote:
“70 is not 30.”
“I asked myself if it was really that important to reach the Andy Payne statue. Or could I just call it where I was? I knew I couldn’t do that. I had to complete this part of my journey.”
But even then, it was clear he wasn’t done.
“I’ve already started wondering how I can come back and pick up where I left off.”
Now, here he is. Doing exactly that.
The Road Is the Only Place With No Pressure
One of the strangest things about Laz’s walk is how peaceful it seems to make him.
His updates—shared via Jared Beasley or his private Facebook group—don’t read like someone suffering through a death march. They read like someone who’s found some version of home in motion.
“The only time to relax is during the actual walking,” he wrote last year. “Then all I have to do is keep moving, stay under control, and don’t get hurt.”
Of course, that’s easier said than done.
The injuries don’t heal like they used to. His left ankle—what he calls his “wheel assembly”—was failing by the end of last year’s trek. This year, it’s anyone’s guess what will go first.
But the goal, as always, is forward.
What’s Next?
It’s not clear how far Laz plans to go this time. San Francisco is still a long way away. And if he doesn’t make it? That’s fine.
He’s not doing this for the destination. He’s doing it because there’s still road left, and he’s still here to walk it.
“Our journey is not over until we have no more goals,” he wrote at the end of Lazcon 2024. “And I am not yet ready to sit at home and wait to die.”
That might sound bleak, but in Laz-speak, it’s just truth.
He’s a man who’s built his life on pushing limits—his own, and those of anyone who dared to sign up for one of his races. Now, in his 70s, he’s exploring a different kind of limit. And he’s inviting the rest of us to think about our own.
Because maybe that’s the real magic of #Lazcon: it’s not just about a man walking across the country. It’s about the quiet courage it takes to pick something back up after you’ve set it down—and keep going, even when nobody’s watching.
