The rules are plain for the eyes to see.

One male from each of the fifty states must walk, or die. Walk at a steady three mph constantoy. If you drop below that, you get a warning. Do it again or don't speed up? You get a second warning. Do it once more? You get your “ticket”.

If you were the last standing, you’d gain incomprehensible riches, pull your family out of poverty, and be granted a wish of your choosing.

Thomas Curley paced back and forth at the starting area of The Long Walk. He had lied about his age to be here, to walk in this several hundred mile competition, to get his family out of poverty, and live the life he never would achieve otherwise. But now he was here… he was really here… shit he's here.