The Barkley Marathons has always lived somewhere on the outer edge of possible. But in 2025, the course wasn’t just tough — it was ruthless. Just one runner, John Kelly, finished three loops of the infamous 100-mile challenge at Frozen Head State Park. Only two other times in history has the field field to produce more than one “Fun Run” performance (2018 had one three-loop finisher, and 2006 didn’t have a single fun runner).
After the dust settled, Barkley’s enigmatic creator, Gary “Lazarus Lake” Cantrell, shared a post-race debrief — part analysis, part cautionary tale — reflecting on what he called “the massacre of 2025.”
“To say the course won this year is an understatement,” Laz wrote. “Since the smoke cleared, revealing a battlefield littered with the corpses of hubris and overconfidence, I have been thinking back over the past week… seeking to understand what went wrong.”
Turns out, quite a bit.
2025 Barkley Course Tweaks
Each year, the Barkley course changes slightly — new twists in the terrain, added climbs, or a reshuffling of checkpoints. This year, Laz admits, the course did include “a little more climb,” but was also a touch shorter than 2024’s record-breaking route.
That’s what made the outcome even more surprising.
Last year, five runners finished the full five loops — the most in Barkley history, including Jasmin Paris, the first woman ever to do so.
In 2025? Nobody made it beyond Loop 3.
Even Barkley legend John Kelly, one of only 20 people to ever finish the race, tapped out after completing three loops — a “Fun Run” in Barkley terms — in just under 40 hours.
French ultrarunner Sébastien Raichon and Japan’s Tomokazu Ihara also bowed out during Loop 3. The race simply ate them alive.
Laz’s Post-Mortem: Where Runners Went Wrong
In his trademark blend of wit and brutal honesty, Laz laid out what he believes were some of the most common — and costly — mistakes that runners made this year.
1. Following Veterans Instead of Learning to Navigate
“Better to develop your own navigational skills,” Laz warned. “How do you know the veteran you follow did not become a veteran by following veterans?”
While it may sound smart to stick with someone who’s done it before, the truth is: once you’re out there, you’re on your own. If your guide makes a mistake — or drops you — you’re lost without the skills to recover.
2. Copying the Map Alone (Off a Phone)
This year, some runners skipped the traditional group map-copying session and instead snapped a photo of the master map to copy it back at their tents.
“That one is so stupid we aren’t even going to allow it next year,” Laz said flatly.
Not only is it nearly impossible to accurately mark checkpoints from a photo, but doing it solo means missing out on critical conversations — route advice, terrain beta, checkpoint strategies — that happen during the shared map session. At the Barkley, that kind of info is gold.
3. Over-Reliance on Compass Bearings
“Shooting a bearing is the most rudimentary form of navigation,” Laz said.
He pointed out that successful Barkley navigation is about reading the land — interpreting contour lines, ridges, valleys, and terrain features — not blindly following a compass needle. “I would not use a compass to navigate at Frozen Head,” he added. “I would look at the map and match the contours with my surroundings.”
4. Searching Blindly, Instead of Reassessing
Some runners reportedly spent hours combing the woods for lost checkpoints — often without even being in the right area.
“Checkpoints are not hidden,” Laz emphasized. “In a race with zero margin for error, I would not look more than 5 minutes before consulting the map.”
His advice: find a known landmark, reassess, and only then start searching again. Otherwise, you’re just burning daylight and energy — and chances are, you’re not even close.
A Harsh Reminder
For most of the field, the Barkley is about seeing how close they can get to that ever-elusive finish. And that’s kind of the point.
Laz doesn’t expect a high finish rate — and never has.
“Barkley is out there on the edge of possibility,” he said. “But it is not impossible.”
Still, his final assessment of this year’s group was blunt: “Most of them should have been able to knock out one loop under the time limit. The 2025 field left a lot of cards on the table.”
For runners who dream of Barkley glory, 2025 is a stark reminder: this race doesn’t reward grit alone. It demands brains, humility, and a deep respect for the map.
Laz isn’t trying to make it impossible. He’s just trying to keep it barely possible. And if this year proved anything, it’s that the Barkley Marathons still has plenty of ways to break even the best.
