IF OBSTACLE RACING has a breakout star, it's Amelia Boone. The 30-year-old Portland, Oregon, native has won, or scored a podium spot in, each of the 14 races she's entered, and she's done it while working 80-hour weeks as a corporate bankruptcy attorney for one of the world's largest law firms. At last year's World's Toughest Mudder, a 24-hour championship race in Englishtown, New Jersey, Boone traversed 90 miles and more than 300 obstacles to take first place among women. She also finished second overall and a full ten miles ahead of the guy in third. As an encore, this summer at the eight-mile Spartan Super Championship, she got lost and was forced to run an extra mile—and still won the women's division.
THE ASCENSION: In 2011, Boone, who was a high school soccer star but gave it up in college, registered for her first obstacle race, a Tough Mudder event in Wisconsin, along with three colleagues. "Within five minutes," she says, "I ditched my coworkers and floored it up the mountain."
PROUD WARRIOR: Boone's office is littered with racing paraphernalia—the orange Tough Mudder headband, liability waivers, a faux skull from one of the three Spartan Death Races she finished. "My bosses are a little scared," she says, "but they're always very interested in what I'm doing."
FEAR OF FRYING: "I'm petrified of electricity now," she says. "I crawled through the Electric Eel nine times at World's Toughest Mudder last year. One time I got blasted so hard I nearly blacked out. I fell and hit my head and started crawling in the wrong direction."
CALL IT A HOBBY: For the moment, there's no such thing as a professional obstacle racer. That could change soon, though, as the fledgling sport gains sponsors and a TV audience; September's Spartan World Championships, with a $250,000 prize purse, was filmed for the NBC Sports Network. It's easy to see how Boone could make a career of it—if she had any desire to. "I'm not sure I'd want to do it full-time," she says. "I like using my brain too much."
UP NEXT: Boone defends her World's Toughest Mudder title on November 16, then heads to England in January to tackle her first Tough Guy, a nine-mile, 40-plus-obstacle event held in the dead of winter. "I have a feeling it will be an entirely different level of suffering," she says. "I hate the cold."
This weekend, Wilson Kipsang of Kenya ran 2:03:23 at the Berlin Marathon. He broke Patrick Makau’s world record by 15 seconds. The first recognized world record was 2:04:55 by Paul Tergat at Berlin set in 2003. Prior to that, only “world bests” were recognized.
In light of Berlin, will humans ever crack the two-hour mark?
The VO2max values and lactate thresholds for the elite East Africans are impressive but not exceptional for world-class runners. However, they are very efficient, allowing them to generate more speed with less oxygen. Their small size might also permit them to thermoregulate better. Finally, a lifetime of physical activity at high altitude can’t hurt.
The graph below shows the projections my colleagues Alejandro Lucia and Jonaton Ruiz made in the updated paper. The faster of the two projections shown in red is based on an average improvement of about 20 seconds per year and the slower blue one is based on ten seconds per year.
Breaking the Record A number of people think the sub-two-hour projection is nuts. As I've noted, the improvement to 2:02 might happen quickly—only to then slow down. My rationale: Until recently, the marathon mark was relatively slow compared to the 5k and 10k records on the track, pointing to room for improvement. Depending on which formulas you use, the current records project out to a marathon time of about 2:02. The other issue is what role doping is or is not playing in all of this.
That having been said, a targeted world record attempt on a special circuit of a few miles is a fascinating idea to consider. The surface of such a circuit could be tuned for maximum speed and the course absolutely flat. The attempt could be made at twilight on a cool windless evening. To break 2:02 the average 10k pace would need to be just less than 29 minutes, extremely fast but maybe not so fast for a top marathoner who can break 27 minutes.
If a sponsor put up the right kind of prize money, my guess is we could get very close to 2:02 in the next four of five years and then the chase for 2:01 could start. There are only 204 seconds left to get to two hours. The record continues to fall, and I have not lost the argument yet.
Michael J. Joyner, M.D., is a physiologist and anesthesiologist at the Mayo Clinic and a leading voice in the world of exercise physiology. Over the past 25-plus years, he's published hundreds of studies, many of which have focused on how humans respond to exercise. Dr. Joyner also writes at Human Limits. The views expressed in his posts are his own and do not reflect those of his employer.
On September 28, aerial stuntman Jeb Corliss plans to jump out a helicopter and pilot his wingsuit through a 30-foot-wide fissure in a nearly 900-foot-tall fin of rock, called Mount Jianglang, in China. The stunt, which Corliss is dubbing “The Flying Dagger,” requires that he fly with more precision for a longer period of time than he ever has before. And he says pulling off such sustained control isn’t even the scariest part of what he’s attempting.
It's been a rough year for BASE jumpers. So far in 2013 there have been 21 deaths in the sport, the deadliest year on record, according to Blinc magazine. Corliss, arguably the biggest name in the game, has had his share of close calls. Last year he crashed into South Africa’s Table Mountain while flying at more than 100 miles per hour. He recovered from near kidney failure and a torn up left leg, then jumped off the same mountain where he got hurt. He's also helped organize the world’s first proximity wingsuit race in China, had surgery to fix a torn ACL, and jumped all over Europe. Now he's organized his most challenging stunt to date. We called him up to hear more about how he plans to take a stab at the “Dagger.”
OUTSIDE: Where did you get the idea for “The Flying Dagger”? CORLISS: Frank Yang of Pan Pacific Entertainment contacted me in late April or early May and wanted to know if I thought it was possible to fly through this crack in China. Normally, when non-jumpers come to me with something like that, I’m really skeptical. They don’t really understand what we do.
They flew me out and took me to three locations that were all very cool, very remote, and very unique. I thought, “OK, these are cool. I could do any one of these.” Then the final spot they took me to was this crack. When I got there I was like, “Wow, I’ve never seen anything like this.” I didn’t understand how nature could create something like it, with almost perfect 90-degree lines. I walked into the bottom and put my arms out. I had four feet on either side of me.
It’s just not that it’s narrow; it’s also really long. It’s three football fields long. It’s about 15 feet at the bottom and 60 feet at the top. So you’re looking at two people holding hands at the bottom and maybe a bus at the top. It was a very shocking thing to be standing in. My friend Iiro said, “Is this possible?” I said, “Yeah, it is possible. This can totally be done.”
What will be different about this flight? A lot of us have done a lot of very precise flights, like I’ve hit the string on balloons, and gone by the arms of the Christ statue, and flown through a waterfall. But in those jumps I was only super precise for a split second—two seconds max. This time, I’m going to have to be super precise for somewhere between 10 to 30 seconds. The length of time makes it different.
This is also a very committed jump, because once you’re in you just can’t come out of it. It’s so narrow that you can’t deploy inside of it. You have to come out of the crack before you pull your parachute. It’s a very committed flight. Once you enter, you have to complete it. The deeper you go the narrower it gets. Do you know how you are going to get into, and out of, the jump? Well, here is the thing. I actually just went to Hungary where we are using augmented reality to test our ability to render this mountain or canyon in space. So, I am able to jump out of an airplane and picture flying through the canyon three times during each jump. This thing is rendered three dimensionally in front of me. It was interesting training, and I would say I impacted about 50 percent of the time.
Wait—you crashed during half of your training runs? Yeah, but it’s augmented reality. You’re pushing a lot harder in there because it’s a unique way of training. It gave me the ability to get a real sense of what I’m doing before I get anywhere near real rock. I think it is going to be the future of how we train for these things. My biggest concern isn’t the flight through the crack. I’m pretty confident I can do it. I’m more concerned with what happens to me when I come out the other end. It’s about 870 feet tall and 900 feet long, but once you come out of it you can’t get any more altitude. So when I fly out of this thing, I could be deploying my parachute at pretty low altitude. The problem of pulling at a pretty low altitude is that I’m over a jungle and there’s a fairly small landing area. You want to avoid landing in trees whenever possible, but if you have to land in trees, you have to land in trees. So it could be very exciting.
To put it in perspective, the cave I flew through in 2011 was 400 feet tall, 100 feet wide, and 200 feet deep. So the measurement was quite large compared to “The Flying Dagger.” I had a big long flight after the cave where I had a 2.5 glide ratio and 45 seconds to deploy the parachute. This stunt is so much narrower, from 100 feet wide to 16 feet wide, and so much longer, from 200 feet to 900 feet long. The fact that I have to fly through a narrow window for such a long period of time, there really hasn’t been another flight like it.
Do you have a team of people that help you prepare? How do you figure out the physics of it? Yeah, I have a whole team of people that help me with everything. When it comes to the wingsuit flying and the physics? That comes with my many years of experience. There aren’t a bunch of people that can help me with that. When it comes to training in a safe way? Yeah, I have a list of people who come up with ideas and make this stuff as safe as it can be done.
Describe the augmented reality training a bit more. Augmented reality is the opposite of virtual reality. Augmented reality is actual reality with objects three-dimensionally rendered in real space. You don’t have goggles. You just have glass that you can see completely through and the images of 3D renderings are projected on that glass. It tricks your mind into believing they are there.
So you were actually jumping out of a plane and had goggles on? And you had the image of the canyon below you? Yes. I can’t tell you exactly how I saw it, but yes. The best way to say it… was when I jumped out of the airplane at 12,000 feet, 1,000 feet below me was the canyon. As far as my brain was concerned, that canyon existed. As far as my eyes were concerned, I was flying through a mountain. I was flying not just through any mountain. I was flying through the exact mountain I’m going to jump through in China. They went and did a computer rendering of this exact mountain. It was the exact size. The angles were exact. Everything was exact. So what caused all the simulated crashes? Well, some of it was due to glitches in the augmented reality. Every once in a while I’d be flying near the mountain and all of a sudden the mountain would move 30 feet. There wasn’t much I could do with that. The system and is still in beta. Luckily, in the real word, the mountain is not going to move. Aside from that, it was just me choosing the wrong angle. I’m coming in and I get a little too far back and all of a sudden I’m too shallow and I can’t make it all of the way through. I was like, “Huh, that’s interesting.” Obviously I have to come at this thing high enough and be at the right angle to make sure I come out the other end. If I’m too low, then I flatten out and don’t have the glide anymore and would just impact halfway through. That was interesting. I was like, “I have to make sure I don’t make that mistake.”
With wingsuting and proximity flying, what’s the direction you want to go in? More stunts or more races? Well, I really do enjoy the large stunts. I like to see how far we can push—I don’t really want to say the sport—but how far we can push ourselves. And this just happens to be one way that I can push myself, to see what I’m capable of. How accurate can I be? How long can I be accurate?
As far as a race is concerned, I see the importance of competition in sports. I understand that is how sports grow. I understand that is how people become professional athletes. I understand that is important for the sport to have a competition. I’m not into that competing, but I understand why other people are and why it’s beneficial and helpful for them.
I also see the amount of energy and effort it takes to be competitive, to be .10 seconds faster than the other guy means you’ve done a few hundred more jumps than he did that season. I already know I’m not going to win the World Wingsuit League race. It’s the guys that are out there jumping non-stop, everyday, 11 jumps a day. It’s crazyiness what they’re doing. I’m much more interested in the proximity megastunts. So can you describe for me the feeling you get after a megastunt? Take the jump at Tianmen Cave or what you might feel after you’ve done “The Flying Dragon”? I can’t tell you what I will feel after this one, because it’s always different. And these feelings are a little bit complicated. You have all these dreams. It takes you months, and in some cases years, of practice. When you finally get to the place and succeed in turning one of your dreams into a reality, the feeling is one of pure joy. It makes you feel like you can do anything. It’s very powerful. It gives my life meaning.
This interview was edited from a longer conversation.
CV: Grew up in Everett, Washington. Married Donna Ayres in 1954. Worked in Everett-area pulp-and-paper mills for 42 years until he retired, in 1994, at 60. Completed the first of 45 marathons in 1976. In April, Iffrig, wearing a bright orange singlet, was nearly finished with his third Boston Marathon when he was knocked down by shock waves from a pressure-cooker bomb. A photographer captured him sprawled on his back, with three policemen standing above him and smoke filling the air, an image that went viral and graced the cover of Sports Illustrated. Iffrig got up and staggered to the finish. “I would have crawled there if I had to,” he says. He finished with a time of 4:03:47.
35: USA Track and Field national championships Iffrig has won in his age group.
Up Next: Another fall marathon—location TBD.
On Staying Young: “My parents loved to have a good time and drink too much. My mother died at 64, and my -father died at 67. They both could have lived so much longer. I have a beer once in a while, but I don’t abuse it. I’m going to stick with running. It’s kind of fun to win a lot.”
CV: Started climbing at age 16 after reading Maurice Herzog’s Annapurna. Moved to Seattle for college in 1977; soon started guiding on Mount Rainier. Finished veterinarian school at Washington State University in 1987. Completed first of seven Everest summits in 1990. Quit practicing as a vet that same year. Became the first American to summit all 14 of the world’s 8,000-meter peaks without supplemental oxygen in May 2005.
212: Successful Rainier summits.
Up Next: His new book, The Mountain: My Time on Everest, cowritten with David Roberts, is out this month. He continues to trail run five days a week, bikes frequently, climbs Rainier twice a summer, and works as a design consultant for Eddie Bauer.
On Keeping Fit: “It’s money in the bank. You’re making deposits now that you can draw on when you’re 65, 75. Every day, I work out and go running or biking. If someone says, ‘Ed, can you leave tomorrow to go to Everest?’ I want to be able to say yes.”