Mark Lambie / El Paso Times Marathoner Steven Silver, ran along Rim Road in West/Central El Paso to prepare for an ultramarathon in Death Valley, Calif.

Last July, after completing the 135-mile trip through hell for the fifth time, Steven Silver made a decision.

No mas. Never again. Enough is enough.

Yet on July 23rd, deep down in Death Valley, Silver will be standing there at the starting line, ready to run the 25th annual Sun Precautions Badwater Ultramarathon. The sun will have already made its appearance, meaning the oven door has been opened, meaning temperatures will have skyrocketed from 80 degrees to 105 degrees in a matter of minutes. They will not stop soaring until they reach the upper 120s or maybe even sizzling into the low 130s.

And just why would anyone want to subject themselves to such a trip, a trip that could -- even at the best of times -- never be considered anywhere near something called fun?

"Because I'm good at it," Silver said matter of factly. "It's the only thing I'm good at. And no, it's not fun. It's never fun. But it's addictive. It's such a high to say you've done it. Really, I do it for two reasons -- one, the challenge of Death Valley and two, the relationships with the people who run it year in, year out. It's a Badwater family reunion."

Some reunion.

This run begins at Badwater in Death Valley, some 282 feet below sea level. It ends at the Whitney Portals on Mount Whitney at 8,360 feet elevation. The course covers three mountain ranges, some 13,000 feet of vertical ascent and 4,700 of descent. And it takes its toll -- oh, does it take its toll.

Silver shrugs and admits, "It is a little bad for the body. Your feet get to be hamburger. I don't wear shoes for three or four days after one of these."

The blisters usually come around the 80-mile mark. Not just minor-nuisance blisters, but torn-up-soles blisters. And the feet begin to swell. And swell. Silver has learned through experience how to handle the latter problem.

"I went out and bought a brand new pair of size 11 running shoes," the 53-year-old head of Philanthropic Services in El Paso said. "I wear a size 10, but I'll wear the new size 11 shoes at the end of the race."

Silver is right, too. He is good at this. Only former winner Marshall Ulrich has more belt buckles -- the prize for finishing Badwater in under 48 hours. Ulrich has seven; Silver five. The El Pasoan, a veteran of ultramarathon races, has always been a top finisher in this trek, a race that usually attracts between 80 and 100 runners from around the world. He finished second in 1996, his first Badwater, in 37 hours, 15 minutes. He was sixth in 1997 in 39:09. He skipped 1998, but came back to finish fourth in 1999 in 33:57. He was ninth in 2000 in 36:45 and 11th last year in 40:19.

But Silver is also wrong. This is hardly the only thing at which he is good. He competed in the 1968 Olympic Trials as a speed skater. He was a talented youth tennis player, competing in the highly regarded Orange Bowl Tournament in Miami. In the world of running, he has, as he puts it, "competed in everything from 200 meters to two days."

Silver said the heat of the desert does not bother him, that El Paso is naturally an ideal place in which to train. He drinks plenty of fluids every hour, eats regularly and takes two 20-minute breaks, sometimes catching catnaps in this furnace.

This is, after all, a place where rubber soles melt, where gel oozes from shoes, where the furnace is turned up and blowing full blast in your face. Ann Trason, a 12-time winner of the Western States 100, was a crew member one year at Badwater. She told the Badwater Manual:

"It's more of a hike, a 130-degree-in-a-sandstorm hike, a torture-fest that I don't want to repeat. I like adventure, but this is an out-of-this-world experience. I drank more crewing Badwater than I did running Western States. I felt like I was in Star Trek -- and I wanted to be beamed out."

Yet Silver continues to endure, to go back, to speak affectionately of the many different people who join him in this body-scorching race. He wants to get a sixth buckle, then a seventh, then ...

"I'm going to keep running this," he said. "This is not my last. Last year I said it was my last. No. This is not my last. I'd like to pass Ulrich in buckles."

Finish this 135-mile torture test in less than 48 hours, finish in less than 60 hours and you get a buckle. But this race is not about trophies.

"The first-place finisher gets a belt buckle, just like anyone else gets who finishes under 48 hours," Silver said. "Nothing else. It's about the people. They are good athletes, but more than that, they are good people."

And, when it is all over, you get to find some air conditioning, hobble around on mangled feet and ... well, if you are Steven Silver you get to come back again next year for the sizzling reunion.

No trophies. Just good people. And another buckle.