If I was going to Burning Man again, I felt the need to make it extra worthwhile by running the 2026 Burning Man 50K Ultramarathon.

These days, I generally run less. After a string of marathons in my early to mid thirties, I’ve felt burnt out on running. When I ran those marathons, I wanted to prove that I could do hard things while working through my Complex PTSD. Training for a marathon also takes a lot of time and energy. After a few years of this, I felt the need to focus on other things.

I’ve been in Virginia for longer than expected. This road trip isn’t really a road trip anymore, not when there’s no exit date in sight. To help pass the time, I decided to train for another 50K ultramarathon. I did it in 2023 and loved it.

Hosted by Pink Lightning Camp, the Burning Man 50K Ultramarathon isn’t like any other race. In the harsh alkaline desert, you’ll run past camps enticing you with drinks and snacks, kissing booths, and epic art sculptures that empower and inspire. You might run among other runners in colorful tutus and costumes, or sometimes they’re wearing nothing but a smile. Art cars lure a crowd of Burners fading back into reality after a long night of acid or drinking. In an environment where the focus is more on fun than a record-breaking finishing time, this race is different.

Training for the Ultramarathon in the Virginia Heat

After deciding to go to Burning Man, I started the training process. Since my running habits had been sporadic, I opted for a 20-week Couch to 50K program. I’ve run many marathons before, so my body would remember the training; it was already written in my muscle memory. It wouldn’t take long to bounce back to full capacity.

You need to train in hot weather to run an ultramarathon in the desert. Fortunately, there were plenty of opportunities for me to do that in the suffocating Virginia heat. For most of my runs, I dutifully completed those. But at the peak of my training, I stopped short at 24 miles of my 26.2-mile long run, because the heat index was 107 degrees. It was awful. Despite my best efforts of staying hydrated, I was dizzy and sweating profusely. My body refused to move another inch. Even though there were only 2.2 miles left, stopping the run turned out to be the right call.

The extreme heat wasn’t my favorite, but that’s the whole point of Burning Man: it’s supposed to be uncomfortable.

Starting the 50K ultramarathon

Anyone who gets up at 4 a.m. just to run 31 miles in a physically hostile environment has to be a little crazy. As I was about to set out to Pink Lightning camp, I ran into a camp mate who was also up early to see one of his favorite DJs.

“I’m about to catch a sunrise set, but you’re doing something way healthier,” he said. I’m not sure if running until your feet bleed is considered healthy, but sometimes you feel the need to do just that.

At the starting line, 376 runners gathered in the darkness. We were dressed up in colorful lights to stay visible. People chattered excitedly, anticipating all the fun and suffering ahead in this 31-mile race.

The race director gave the rundown on the course and safety rules. This race course was very similar to the 50K I ran in 2023. From Pink Lightning Camp, we circle the playa four times, going through the pink lightning bolts along the trash fence in the deep playa. Except this time, the path was going back through Center Camp, and the out-and-back was 0.1 miles from the finish line.

We shouted the countdown to start before the air horn blasted its signal. And just like that, all 376 runners were off.

The Dusty Path Ahead

Already the race was off to a dusty start. The wind picked up, and we had to put on our masks and goggles to protect ourselves from gritty eyes and dust in our throats. Fortunately, the weather was mild the entire time. Since I had been heat training, the rest of the race felt like a breeze—pun intended. The dust storms blanketed Black Rock City like a thick cloud, the visibility reduced to 10-15 feet. It was almost a repeat of 2023.

What I love about running the 50K is all the enthusiasm from the crowd. People shouted things like:

“You can do it!”

“Here, have some whiskey.”

“You’re hardcore!”

“You’re a little crazy for doing this.”

“Run! Run! You’re going really slow!”

The Best of Times

The first couple of laps felt relaxing, even through the dust. My body warmed up in the cool air, as the sun climbed higher in the sky. I ran along the orange trash fence through those pink lightning bolts, the perimeter of Burning Man. Playa angels neatly laid out snacks and drinks: vegan-friendly candy, fresh fruit, potato chips, oat bars with jam inside, lemonade, coconut water, and more. That’s what makes the Burning Man ultramarathon amazing: you feel the love coming from the volunteers and spectators while getting high off your own endorphins.

And the Weirdest of Times

Running through the third lap can feel like the worst. You’re already tired, and you know there’s still one more lap to go. In this case, all I could do was try to stay present, keep eating snacks, and drinking water—all while weathering the dust storms. There’s that liminal feeling that you drop into when your energy reserves start depleting. Running sounds deceptively easy: it’s just one foot in front of the other. But when you start fading, you have to dig deeper and remind yourself the reason you’re doing this.

And because this is Burning Man, serendipity comes around sometimes. The same pit stop crew from last time appeared from the dust in their fluorescent safety vests and hard hats, shouting about free massages and snacks from their megaphone. Armed with their soft car buffers, they went straight to work massaging my legs and butt while hand-feeding me snacks. If this isn’t playa magic, then I don’t know what is.

During the fourth lap, I felt a break of clarity, like clouds parting to let sunlight through. Even though I was shuffling my feet at this point, I couldn’t help but laugh when a man dressed up as a traffic cone passed me. While he was running, he was holding his own traffic cone like a small child in this dust storm.

Keep going. Follow the traffic cone.

The Last Stretch of the Ultramarathon

It’s the final miles of the race where everything boils down to a singular focus. The rest of the course was laid out for me. I just had to keep following this mysterious traffic cone! Sometimes he passed me, and other times I passed him. It’s probably the only time I’ve ever been so emotionally invested in a traffic cone.

We stayed together in close proximity towards the finish line. When I saw the twin lightning bolts in the distance, I ran as fast as my tired body would take me. I ran between those lightning bolts and finally finished the ultramarathon!

Pink Lightning Camp let us pick our own finisher’s medal. Every medal is hand made through a labor of love. This year, a glittery pink acrylic lightning bolt spins within a polished wooden circle. The tiny bit of playa dust inside the lightning bolt gives it that extra-special touch, a reminder of where we ran those 31 miles. Later on, I learned that Mr. Traffic Cone made every single one of those medals. I knew he was a good person.

Afterwards, the camp treated the finishers with quesadillas. In my case, I had chips and a vegan, cheese-less “quesadilla”: a tortilla stuffed with only black beans, guacamole, and salsa. All of those fats, carbs, protein, and salt helped replenish what I had burned off. It tasted like the best damn quesadilla I’ve ever had!

Instead of leaving immediately after, I stayed and watched the other runners cross the finish line. A naked woman finished, her ecstatic smile lit up like a thousand-watt light bulb. An older person in a pink tutu, perhaps in her 60s or 70s, also completed the race. I hope I can stay that active during those years!

After the Ultramarathon

For the rest of the week, I wore that medal for days. It’s not only for the feeling of accomplishment, but also a real work of art that someone poured their love and energy into. A random person asked me where I got it.

“You have to earn it,” I said. “It’s just 31 short miles.”

“I wish I could have one!” he said.

“If you run 31 miles and beat my time, then it’s yours.”

“Hahaha! Maybe next year.”

Since coming back, I’ve been running at least a couple times a week. The weather finally cooled down, so it no longer feels like breathing in a sauna. Coming to Burning Man truly was a good idea, and finishing another ultramarathon in the desert was the cherry on top. Sometimes we need something intense, like an ultra marathon and a Burn, to push us along. And now that I’m back in Virginia, it’s time to plan my next steps on this road trip.