YOU DEFINITELY GET WET, which should be the least of your concerns when even the biggest, baddest diehards feel a Gordian knot of tension form in their guts at the merest mention of the race. Many have trouble getting to sleep the night before. Can you blame them? Competitors can expect 85 hilly mile' worth of nerve-ending overload from legs deep fried in lactic acid and feet rubbed as red and raw as tuna sushi. It's little wonder, then, that the Athens-to-Atlanta ultramarathon has earned a reputation for being the world's longest, toughest, gnarliest road race.

What began as a hardcore pub crawl for carousing types has evolved over the years into an equally hardcore road race for serious athletes. The skaters of yesteryear were so gritty, they took beer handoffs and wore conventional skates (in 1982, skater Keith Donalson shouldered an eight-pound boom-box for the first 60 miles before going on to win). Today's skaters may get Hydra-Fuel handoffs and use only the lightest equipment, but one thing has remained constant since the race's first edition in 1982: Only the strong survive.

But physical strength is only part of it. Though a few other races demand as much of your mind, in no other race does the psychic hurt of a subpar performance sting like it does in this one. In a 10K, losing the pack means you'll have to skate with your less-than-perfect performance for several minutes. But losing the leaders in Athens-to-Atlanta is a different story altogether. You could be telling yourself, "I should have stayed on that break" for several hours. Trust me: It hurts.

A little pain is expected. To do the race, you must not only make pain your friend, but also your pre-race training buddy and occasional bedfellow. Of course, even friends can betray. Take 1992, for instance, when I simply couldn't handle the hurt and had to watch major-dudes Haico Bouma, Jakob Zwart, and Jon Lowden skate away from me and the rest of the pack. Rather than flee to the safety and comfort of a support vehicle, I chose to endure 40 more miles of torture with a blown back and seized legs.

After 13 years of suffering in every kind of weather, Athens-to-Atlanta finishers can consider themselves a truly hardy bunch - and one that's occasionally sly as well. In the race's 1985 edition, Athens police - forgetting all about their promised escort - set up a roadblock after 100 skaters and 30 support vehicles rolled past their station going the wrong way down a one-way street. While race director Henry Zuver ran interference in the subfreezing weather by engaging the law in heated dialogue, the whole field sneaked past the roadblock and was long gone.

Those who were there still laugh about it today. But just beneath the carnival atmosphere lies a more serious undercurrent, born out of every skater's desire to go beyond the ordinary. For some, the race is a very personal challenge. Take the wife of United States senator Phil Gramm, for example. An avid in-liner, Wendy Gramm finished the 1994 race in 8 hours and 50 minutes. Her achievement is proof that as long as you're committed, Athens-to-Atlanta is a race that's accessible to all.

For other skaters, the '94 event was a venue for more public battles. Take third-place finisher Stan Bunn (Mike's Bikes), for example, who showed true grit by battling back through the field after suffering severe cramps at the midpoint. In the four hours and 52 minutes it took him to finish, Bunn proved that those who persevere to the end will be rewarded for their efforts.