It’s a warm winter afternoon on Monday and Camille Herron is asleep. He lies on a cot in a tent next to a flat dirt road. It winds for two and a half miles along the edge of a large olive-green lake lined with palm trees, white stones and desert grasses. A curtain of steep, bush-covered mountains rises above the lake. Among the many resorts in California’s Coachella Valley, this resort also hosts Lululemon’s FURTHER event; It gives 10 selected women the chance to run as far as they can in six days.
It’s the penultimate day and his sleep is getting longer – five hours – and the next timer is ticking – and Herron has less than 24 hours to run 48 miles. If he can continue on his own accord, he will break a record that has stood for more than three decades.
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Once the gold standard for what human beings could endure on foot, the six-day race predates both cross-country racing and the modern marathon. In the 19th century, thousands of spectators lined up to watch these “pedestrians” parade for six days: at the Empire Ice Rink at PT Barnum Racetrack, where the Met Life Building is now located in lower Manhattan, and at fairs throughout the United States. These products, popular in Europe and America, brought with them better ones, competitors and diversity. The first six-day women’s race took place in Chicago in 1876. According to Davy Crockett of the Ultrarunning History website, “more than 300 women” competed in these nearly week-long events in the 19th century. In 1880, Frank Hart, a Haitian immigrant, “mesmerized the audience at New York’s Madison Square Garden” by traveling 565 miles in six days. He received $21,567, which is about $679,000 in today’s money.
Then came accusations of cheating, poisoning, the rise of cycling and, the final fatal blow, baseball. The 1980s saw a revival of timed format ultramarathons, and the men’s six-day record was broken for the first time in a century. But the highest level seemed to have been reached. No one had ever come close to Yiannis Kouros’s record of 645 miles in 1988 and Sandy Barwick’s record of 549 miles in 1990 (the men’s and women’s records, respectively). “Their records have proven to be extremely resilient to their successors,” says former Trans-America race director Jesse Riley.
Then in 2015, a svelte 6-foot-9 runner from Norman, Oklahoma burst onto the ultramarathon scene. Herron, a 2:37 marathon runner with an awkward walk, a wide smile and an eccentric personality, embarked on an unprecedented streak. In 2017, he became the third American to win the Comrades Marathon, a famous 55-mile race in South Africa, and in 2023 he won the Spartathalon, a 153-mile ultramarathon in Greece. She is the first athlete to win both men’s and women’s titles. That same year, he traveled 270 miles around a 400-meter track in Bruce, Australia. She accomplished this in 48 hours and not only bettered her own goal, but also became the first woman to hold the men’s and women’s open American records in distance running.
When the FURTHER event began last Wednesday, Herron already held multiple world records between 50 and 250 miles. A small crowd gathered under four spotlight towers and rows of orange and white tents. The 42-year-old man was in the shadows, a water bottle stuffed into the crotch of his shorts. On day one, he drank a Coke float and ran 133 miles. On the second day, he ditched the tacos and added another 183 miles. On March 8, International Women’s Day, she broke America’s 48-hour travel record for women. More would follow.
Every time Herron broke a record, he spread his arms wide, his hands as if saying, “Isn’t this incredible?” He was pointing at the sky as if to say. His obvious admiration for his work has occasionally made him a target in the ultrarunning community. The odd pre-race mantra of “let the magic happen” contributes to this. But it’s hard to argue with the numbers. And the numbers and records were piling up: a new 300-kilometer mark, America’s 48-hour road record, a new 300-kilometer road record, the women’s 500-kilometer world record, the women’s 500-kilometer record. When she completed the latter, she danced around the starting line in pink compression socks, celebrating with high-fives and hugs.
But the six-day target was still there; Barwick, 1990, 549 mi. On Monday, while Herron was sleeping, questions began to be asked in forums and Facebook groups. “Last lap!” wrote ultrarunning ace and statistician Mike Dobies. “Did he save enough money for one last push?”
Pressure comes at 2.30pm. Herron is up and moving, and soon the night will welcome cooler weather and more miles. But after a few loops it goes off course again. I’m resting again. “Run the routine,” he tells himself: Run, eat, hydrate, sleep and repeat. But now it’s getting harder to do any of that. As Christian Griffith said while crossing America, the goal is “so close for so long.”
The close distance is now 40 miles in 18 hours and Herron is up and moving and logging 15 minute miles; For him, it is a walking tempo, a death effort. Then one more stop. Late ultrarunner Al Howie told Ultra Daily News: “He’s dying… he’s back from the dead… he’s not going to make it.”
He continues to struggle through the night, and at 3:30 in the morning Herron crosses the invisible threshold: 550 miles, a new world record, Biggy, six days. But it’s not official. The International Association of Ultrarunners, which sanctions the six-day race, does not qualify any score exceeding 48 hours of running as a world record. Only the best.
The accolades fly out fast and furious as Herron quickly takes a nap. “It was just a matter of time,” says Trishul Cherns, president of the Global Multi-Day Ultramarathoners Organization, which tracks ultrarunning statistics. “Camille’s performance proved that women entering the game can compete on equal terms with men.” Crockett says she is “the best female ultrarunner ever, on the track and on the road.” And New Zealand’s Barwick, whose record, “best” or achievement Herron broke, says he is “in awe of his speed.” “A truly amazing performance, very brave and inspiring for all athletes.”
But Herron wasn’t done. He stands up once again as the sun rises over the Santa Rosa Mountains. Another push. One more cycle, then two, three. Reached 900 km, another record, then it was over. In his wake came 11 world records recognized by GOMU and the world best performance by the IAU. In both cases, the numbers on the LED display show a net 560.3 miles. Above is a word written in all caps: MORE.