Who Really Powers Mountain, Ultra and Trail Running? The Volunteer Question.

Trail running has always been built on community. Volunteers stand at the heart of the sport, helping races function while creating the atmosphere that makes them special. But as many events have grown into large commercial enterprises, an uncomfortable question emerges: when a race generates significant revenue, should it still rely on unpaid labour? I’m not sure there is a simple answer. The reality sits somewhere between community spirit and business economics, and that’s what makes the debate worth having.

Trail and ultra running likes to present itself as a community before it presents itself as a business. That distinction matters, because the entire volunteer model in mountain racing depends on it.

Volunteering at races is noble and organic: people giving back to a sport they love. Aid stations staffed by local clubs, marshals standing in freezing rain at 3am, finish-line crews catching exhausted runners after 100 miles. The imagery is powerful. It reinforces the idea that trail running is somehow different from mainstream commercial sport.

But modern trail racing, – especially at the highest level – is no longer purely community-driven. Many major events are highly profitable commercial enterprises with corporate sponsors, media deals, merchandise, qualification systems, tourism partnerships and global brand expansion. 

And that raises an uncomfortable question: If races are businesses, why are so many of the workers unpaid?

Take Ultra-Trail du Mont-Blanc as the clearest example. UTMB is no longer simply a mountain race organised by local enthusiasts. It is a global endurance brand. UTMB race week, the organization requires approximately 2,000 to 2,500 volunteers to ensure the successful operation of the event. In addition, there are UTMB World Series races across continents, partnerships with major corporations, streaming productions, premium entry fees, lotteries, travel packages and extensive merchandising. The infrastructure resembles a professional sporting enterprise. UTMB generate an estimated €30 million in revenue!

Yet the operational backbone of the event still depends heavily on volunteers. Without them, many races simply would not function financially.

That is the core reality that the sport rarely confronts directly.

A large ultra race requires enormous manpower: registration, bib collection, checkpoints, course marking, sweeping, medical support coordination, parking, logistics, finish-line support, drop bag management, transport and clean-up. Paying market wages for every role would radically alter race economics. Entry fees would rise sharply or profit margins would shrink.

Volunteers effectively subsidise the event.

The interesting part is not that volunteers exist. Volunteers are everywhere in society. The interesting part is that volunteering remains culturally unquestioned even when races become commercially sophisticated businesses.

In most industries, this model would feel absurd.

Imagine a privately owned bank. The owner hires executives, accountants and security staff, but then asks enthusiasts of banking to work unpaid at the cash desks because they “love finance” and want to “be part of the atmosphere.” Society would reject that instantly. The same would apply to airlines, supermarkets or hotels. Once an operation becomes commercial, labour is expected to be compensated.

So why do races escape?

Partly because sport occupies a strange middle ground between commerce and culture.

People volunteer at races not purely as workers but as participants in an identity. They often feel emotionally invested in the event, the region, the community or the sport itself. Volunteering becomes social capital. It offers belonging, prestige, access and meaning. In trail running especially, there is a strong ethic of reciprocity: “someone helped me, so I should help others.”

Key points are to support the outdoor community, maybe secure a guaranteed entry into future event, and enjoy the social atmosphere. 

  • Volunteers, typically, are ultrarunners or hikers themselves, they want to support their friends, community, cheer, and pay forward the help they received during their own races.
  • Volunteers can earn discounted entries, priority for future events or a bonus compensation on apparel/ merchandise.
  • There is a huge social benefit, friendship and community.
  • Free t-shirts, hat, and/ot other merchandise and more often than not, free food and drink

Eiger Ultra Trail by UTMB (as an example) clearly state the offer via their website:

A successful Eiger Ultra Trail event relies heavily on the help of volunteers. Volunteers have the unique opportunity to actively participate in this international event, to experience the race up close as it unfolds and to be on-hand for support when 4000 competitors from 80 nations attempt to conquer the 101km, 250km, 51km, 35km, 16km or Trail Surprise at the foot of the Eiger.

We offer our Volunteers:

  • An unforgettable experience in a breathtaking mountain landscape
  • An attractive Volunteer Shirt (male and female fit available)
  • Free gondola or train ride from Grindelwald to the race courses
  • Refreshments during volunteer service (lunchbag, hot meals from Friday)
  • Free accommodation at youth hostel (shared room) if volunteering early morning or late evening and if the assignment cannot be reached in time by public transport.
  • Personal expenses of CHF 30.00 per Person, or CHF 60.00 from 20h service
  • Volunteer gift

If you are supporter of a competitor and volunteering for us you get a free transport ticket to the race courses.We’re happy to welcome volunteers from the age of 13 – 70. A good physical condition is necessary.

Race organisations understand this extremely well.

The language surrounding volunteers is carefully framed around family, passion and community spirit. Volunteers are celebrated publicly, thanked emotionally and woven into the mythology of the sport. This is genuine – many volunteers truly enjoy the experience – but it also masks an economic truth: their labour has real financial value.

That value is substantial.

A major ultra may require hundreds, if not thousands of volunteer hours. If those hours were compensated at standard labour rates, the event budget would look entirely different. Volunteers are not merely helping. They are replacing paid staffing costs.

Other sectors do use unpaid labour, but usually with controversy attached.

Media companies rely on unpaid internships. Fashion and film industries often offer people to work “for exposure.” Tech startups use open-source contributors whose free work later supports billion-dollar valuations. Universities depend heavily on unpaid academic labour. Charities and grassroots sports clubs naturally rely on volunteers because they are non-profit or resource-constrained.

The key distinction is this: society tends to become more critical when unpaid labour supports private profit rather than public benefit.

That is where trail running becomes ethically complicated.

A local village race organised by a community association is one thing. Few participants object to volunteers there because the event itself may barely break even and any surplus returns to local causes.

A global race brand charging premium prices while still depending on unpaid operational labour is different.

And yet it remains normalised because trail running inherited its culture from grassroots mountain events long before the sport commercialised. The volunteer ethos survived the transition from community gathering to international business model.

There is also a practical reality: many races genuinely could not exist in their current form if every role became salaried. Mountain races are logistically extreme. Remote terrain, long durations and unpredictable weather create staffing demands unlike those of conventional road races or stadium sports. The economics are difficult even before considering environmental permits, safety systems, insurance and medical infrastructure.

And this brings in the point of paid staff. The primary organizers, logistics leads, and business owners who plan the event year-round are paid along with specialized crews such as media, medical teams, mountain safety, technical contractors and so on.

At some point, the question becomes philosophical rather than logistical: When does a community event become a corporation wearing community clothing?

The discomfort around this subject often comes from the fact that both realities coexist simultaneously. Trail races are still authentic communal experiences for many people. Volunteers often derive real satisfaction and pride from contributing. The emotional value is genuine.

Yet it is also true that this culture enables profitable enterprises to operate with labour models that would appear unacceptable almost anywhere else.

The sport rarely interrogates that contradiction because everyone benefits in some way. Runners get lower fees than fully commercial staffing would require. Volunteers gain belonging and access. Race brands preserve their community image while controlling costs.

The arrangement works.

Until someone asks whether it should.

What are your thoughts on the volunteer model? Do you foresee a change in the future – not at the grass-roots, non-profitable level – but are the larger, corporate and very obvious businesses level where profit and high profits are very visible.

Whether this model can survive unchanged at the corporate end of the sport remains to be seen. I do not know the answer, but it is a question we should not stop asking.

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OMM (Original Mountain Marathon) release FELL, TRAIL and ULTRA Shoes

OMM (Original Mountain Marathon) is a British mountain running and outdoor brand with roots dating back to 1968, when the original two-day mountain marathon race was established in the UK’s rugged uplands. Designed around the demands of self-sufficient mountain racing, OMM built its reputation on ultralight, highly protective equipment engineered for harsh weather and long distances. Since becoming an independent brand in 2004, OMM has developed a loyal following among fell runners, trail runners, ultramarathon athletes and fast-packers, and is particularly well known for its lightweight packs, technical waterproof apparel and innovative fabrics such as Kamleika and PointZero. While the brand enjoys near-cult status in the UK and strong popularity in markets including Japan, Scandinavia and parts of Europe, it remains a specialist name globally, prized by mountain athletes who prioritise performance, durability and minimal weight.

The Opportunity

On paper, footwear feels like a natural extension for OMM. The brand was born from mountain racing and has spent decades designing equipment for runners tackling some of the harshest terrain and weather in the world. That heritage gives OMM credibility that many newer running brands can only aspire to. By launching a three-shoe range covering Fell, Trail and Ultra, OMM is creating a more complete ecosystem for its core audience, allowing runners to pair footwear with the packs, apparel and waterproofs the brand is already known for. At a time when many trail shoes are becoming increasingly cushioned and generalized, OMM also has an opportunity to differentiate itself with products that reflect its roots in technical mountain running, lightweight performance and all-weather reliability.

The Challenge

The downside is that OMM is entering one of the most crowded and competitive categories in outdoor sports. Trail running footwear is dominated by established specialists such as Salomon, La Sportiva, Hoka, while brands such as NNormal, Altra and Scarpa continue to fight for market share. Unlike packs or waterproof jackets, where OMM already has a strong reputation, footwear requires years of biomechanical expertise, athlete testing and consumer trust. 

Among fell runners and mountain athletes, the most direct comparisons are likely to be drawn with inov-8 and VJ Sport – two brands that have spent decades refining footwear specifically for steep, technical and often wet terrain. inov-8 has long been synonymous with British fell running, while VJ has earned an almost cult-like reputation for its outsole technology, widely regarded as one of the benchmarks for grip on wet rock, slick roots and muddy mountain trails. For OMM, entering footwear means competing not only against established global brands, but against niche specialists whose credibility has been built shoe by shoe over many years. Given OMM’s own heritage in mountain racing, expectations will be high, and serious runners will inevitably judge the new Fell, Trail and Ultra models against the traction, precision and durability standards already set by Inov-8 and especially VJ – notably, both who have their own outsole!

FELL8mm lugs4mm drop19.5/23.5 cushioning

TRAIL4mm lugs6mm drop21/27 cushioning

ULTRA4mm lugs8mm drop22/30 cushioning

One potential weakness of OMM’s footwear strategy is its decision to rely on Vibram outsoles rather than developing a proprietary rubber compound and tread system. While Vibram is one of the most respected names in mountain footwear and appears on countless premium trail and hiking shoes, it is not unique to OMM. In contrast, both Inov-8 and VJ have invested heavily in developing their own outsole technologies, giving them a clear point of distinction in a highly competitive market. For VJ in particular, exceptional grip on wet rock has become a defining part of the brand’s identity #bestgripontheplanet – while inov-8’s outsole designs are closely associated with British fell running and soft-ground performance.

This raises an obvious question for OMM: why should a runner choose an OMM shoe if the outsole technology is essentially shared with dozens of competing brands? For a niche company entering an already crowded category, proprietary technology can be a powerful way to stand out and build long-term loyalty. By opting for Vibram, OMM gains instant credibility and proven performance, but potentially sacrifices a degree of uniqueness. Ultimately, the success of the Fell, Trail and Ultra models may depend on whether runners see the overall package – fit, ride, upper design and mountain-running heritage as compelling enough to outweigh the lack of a distinctive outsole story.

More to the Vibram story

However, there is more to this story… OMM use a sole unit that is unique to the OMM shoe. Vibram, along with athlete Gediminas Grinius, developed over 1000’s of km’s a sole unit – cushioning and outsole – designed to be the perfect combination – VIBRAM SOLESYSTEM. Commercially though, it was unviable until OMM saw this and eventually turned the concept to reality. With specifically developed traction lugs, a wave shape, specific descent lugs, contour lugs and a Vibram midsole with MetaFlex – OMM believe they have the USP to stand out. 

There is a clear logic to the OMM approach:

*Fell shoe has less cushioning, 19.5-23.5mm and 4mm drop. The Fell shoe comes in a regular fit and whopping 8mm lugs to grip in mud and soft-ground. 

*Trail shoe sits in the middle ground with a 6mm drop and 21-27mm cushioning. The Trail and Ultra shoes both have 4mm lugs but come in two widths – regular and regular+

*Ultra shoe has 8mm drop for more comfort over longer distances and more cushioning with 22-30mm. The Ultra shoes both have 4mm lugs but come in two widths – regular and regular+

OMM may well be late to the shoe game but they are covering the bases to ensure that they have a product for all.

The Fell is arguably the most obvious shoe for the typical mountain marathon runner. But, the option of Trail and Ultra acknowledges the ever changing demands and needs of their audience. 

Reviews to follow.

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MDS Legendary 2026 – The 40th Edition – Stage 6

The 2026 and 40th edition of MDS Legendary concluded with the iconic Merzouga Dunes after a 270km, 6-stage journey over 7-days.

Mohammed El Morabity taking over the reigns of his elder brother, Rachid, and winning the edition in superb way, with final stage victory too.

For the women, Maryline Nakache won every stage and cemented her name in MDS history with an incredible fast time and an overall placing of 13th overall.

Many words can be written about this incredible journey through the Sahara. Mohamed ran an incredible pace, the fastest in history, covering the 270km’s in 20:47:39.

Contrast this with the last place finisher, Hiu Tung Tilda Wong who completed the journey in 85:44:26.

From first to last, 1350 finishers – each now a LEGEND and each a unique story in the 40-year history of this incredible stage race.

With 1435 starters, only 85 DNF’d (did not finish) which equates to just 5.92% – an incredible statistic for the longest edition in the race history, a testament to the commitment of each participant and also the organisation. Of the 1350 finishers, 341 were women, 25%.

The last day, on paper, a relatively easy 23km’s, particularly after what came before. The kick in the tail, of course, was the Merzouga Dunes and extremely strong winds and sand storms that made conditions especially tough.

Mohamed and Ludovic Pommeret battled the last stage and Mohamed sealed victory with a sprint, 1:36:37 to 1:36:46. Not far behind was MDS Legendary legend and 11 time champion, Rachid El Morabity 1:42:41.

Maryline crossed the line in 2:06:22 and behind, Magdalena Boulet, once again finding incredible form in the latter stages of the race sealed 2nd in 2:11:14.

Aziza El Amrany, obviously in pain, battled to the line for 3rd in 2:18:30, ultimately no doubt disappointed that she was unable to battle for the overall victory in the 2026 edition, however, her tenacity really did shine.

As always, the race is about the human stories – the highs, the lows, the mental game to finish. From sore blistered feet to damaged muscles, the story to become a Legend is a special one. And the words of Roosevelt are apt.


It’s not the critic who counts, not the man or woman who points out how the strong man or woman  stumbled, or when the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man or woman who is actually in the arena; whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions and spends him or herself in a worth cause; who at the best, knows in the end the triumph of high achievement; and who at the worst if he or she fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his or her place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory or defeat. 

This quote personifies the MDS spirit. One has to be in the arena, fighting to achieve glory and yes, some may not achieve their goal, but they had the bravery to at least try.

Full and final results are HERE

Top Men

  • Mohamed El Morabity
  • Rachid El Morabity
  • Ludovic Pommeret

Top Women

  • Maryline Nakache
  • Aziza El Amrany
  • Desiree Linden

To conclude the journey, participants will celebrate on Ouarzazate with a gala dinner, awards ceremony a party that will go into the night and then the next day onward travel.

MDS Legendary is always special, the 2026 edition? Very special.

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Running Races Aren’t Cheap. And That’s the Reality We Need to Accept.

Dragons Back Race

There’s a long-standing idea in the running community that races should be cheap. The logic is simple: running itself is simple. Put on a pair of shoes, head outside, and run. So when people see an entry fee for a trail, mountain, or ultra race that feels high, the reaction is often the same. 

Why does it cost so much?

The truth is that the world those expectations came from barely exists anymore. Years ago, many races were small and local. They were often organised by running clubs or small community groups. The courses were modest. The participant numbers were manageable. Volunteers handled most of the work. Costs were relatively low, and so were entry fees.

Those races still exist in places, but the sport around them has changed dramatically. Trail running, ultrarunning, mountain racing and skyrunning have exploded in popularity. Courses have become longer, more remote and more technical. Participant numbers have increased. Expectations have risen. And alongside that growth has come something unavoidable: responsibility.

Modern race organisation carries real obligations.

If you put hundreds of runners into remote terrain, often in extreme weather and over difficult ground, you cannot simply mark a course and hope for the best. Safety is not optional anymore. It’s a requirement.

That means medical teams. It means coordination with mountain rescue. It means risk assessments, insurance, emergency plans and communications systems. It means trained marshals, sweep teams, and logistics that can respond quickly when something goes wrong.

All of this costs money.

Then there are the physical elements of the race itself. Start and finish areas. Timing systems. Course marking. Aid stations. Equipment transport. Permits. Land access. Environmental management. Insurance. Staffing.

Even a single-day race can involve months of preparation. Often a full year of planning. And that’s before considering the scale of many modern events.

Large trail races now operate almost like temporary cities. Hundreds or thousands of runners, staff and volunteers moving through remote areas across dozens or even hundreds of kilometres. Everything must work. Everything must be safe. None of that is inexpensive.

Now consider multi-day events.

MDS 120 Morocco

Races like the Marathon des Sables or the Dragon’s Back Race take the complexity of a one-day race and multiply it several times over and then add some! Every additional day means more logistics, more transport, more staff, more food, more safety coverage, more accommodation, more contingency planning.

Trofeo Kima – Italy

A week-long mountain race is not just a race repeated seven times. It is an expedition with hundreds of participants. Costs scale quickly. And with that scale comes risk, financial risk.

Race organizer’s carry it all – permits, deposits, infrastructure, insurance, tracking, staff contracts, transport bookings, equipment hire, maybe even helicopter cover – most of these costs are committed long before the first runner even registers.

Running races today are not informal club gatherings. They are businesses. That does not mean organisers are making huge profits. In many cases, margins are incredibly tight. Weather can disrupt events. Participation numbers can fluctuate. A single cancellation can create massive financial losses.

Which brings recent events into focus.

Cape Wrath

The closure of Ourea Events surprised many runners. Their races, including the Dragon’s Back Race and the Cape Wrath Ultra, were often described as expensive. But when you actually look at what those races involved, the pricing begins to make sense.

Multi-day racing across remote mountains with extensive safety systems, complex logistics, transport of participants and equipment across long distances with camps, food, communications and medical support – this is expensive.

Events like that are extraordinarily complicated to deliver safely. Perhaps the bigger question is not whether those races were expensive. Perhaps the question is whether they were ever truly priced to reflect what they actually cost.

There is often an expectation that race organisers should keep entry fees low, almost as if races are a community service rather than a professional undertaking. But if you organise a race today, especially in remote or mountainous terrain, you are operating a business – you have to be. No business can survive if it consistently prices its product below its true cost.

The running community may need to confront an uncomfortable reality. If we want well-organised, safe, professionally run events with excellent logistics, that comes at a price.

If we want medical coverage in remote mountains, that costs money. If we want reliable course marking, well-stocked aid stations, experienced crews, proper safety oversight and seamless logistics, that costs money too.

None of it appears out of thin air.

Of course, no one is forced to enter a race. And that’s an important point. If a race entry fee feels too high, the trails are still there. The mountains are still there. You can run the same paths any day of the week for free.

But if we choose to participate in organised races, especially the kind that now define modern trail and ultrarunning, we need to understand what it actually takes to create them.

Behind every start line is a year of planning. Behind every finish line is a huge operational effort. And behind every race number is a long list of people, equipment, safety systems and infrastructure working to make sure runners get through the experience safely.

UTMB

Running may be simple.

Organizing a race no longer is.

And perhaps it’s time the community fully recognized that.

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The Coastal Challenge Costa Rica 2026 – Stage 6

Stage 6 of The Coastal Challenge Costa Rica was always going to be special. It wasn’t just another race day. It was the closing chapter for the Adventure and Expedition categories. A loop that began and ended in the wild beauty of Corcovado and Bahía Drake. A day of waterfalls, gravel roads, jungle trails, river crossings, single track, beaches, and some of the most stunning light the Pacific coast can offer.

For many runners, this stage wasn’t only about time. It was about finishing what they started days ago. It was about earning the medal. It was about emotion.

The route delivered everything Costa Rica promises. Thick jungle that swallowed sound and forced focus. Gravel roads that tested tired legs. Technical single track winding through roots and rock.

River crossings that cooled sore muscles for a brief moment. Beaches that stretched endlessly under a rising sun. Waterfalls tucked deep in green corridors. Every turn seemed to offer another view, another reason to pause, another reminder of how far everyone had come.

And the light. Early morning gold over the ocean. Sun filtering through canopy leaves. The kind of light that makes even exhausted runners smile.

At the front of the Expedition men’s race, Alejandro Muñoz (#1) delivered a commanding performance, crossing the line in 3:54:46.1 to take the Stage 6 win. He ran with control and strength, managing the varied terrain with precision.

Martin Alonso Mena Jimenez secured second in 4:21:29.0, followed closely by Jon Shield in 4:22:43.9. Both men pushed hard through the jungle and across the beaches, knowing every minute mattered on this final day.

But while Stage 6 had its winners, the greater story in Expedition belonged to Erick Agüero.

After eight participations in The Coastal Challenge, Erick Agüero finally claimed the overall Expedition title. Eight times he stood on the start line. Eight journeys through heat, humidity, hills, rivers, and long lonely stretches of trail. Eight times chasing the dream.

And this year, he did it.

At the finish line there were tears. Real ones. The kind that come from years of effort, setbacks, persistence, and belief. You could see the weight lift from his shoulders as he crossed under the arch. Joy mixed with relief. Pride mixed with exhaustion. Winning after one attempt is impressive. Winning after eight shows something deeper. Commitment. Patience. Heart.It was one of those moments that reminds everyone why this race matters.

Denise Zelaya led the Expedition women home on Stage 6 in 4:24:35.1. She ran strong and steady, handling the technical sections with confidence and finishing her week on a high note.

Janina Beck followed in 5:11:18.6, while Floribeth Pérez (#38) completed the podium in 6:27:05.8. Each of them faced the same rugged loop and found their own way through it.

For the women’s field, the final stage was about resilience. By this point in the week, everyone is carrying fatigue. Legs are heavy. Feet are tender. Yet they kept moving forward. Through river crossings. Along sunlit beaches. Into the final stretch.

There were hugs at the finish. Long embraces. Shared smiles. The understanding that something meaningful had just been completed.

The Adventure category also closed its journey on Stage 6, and the racing at the front was sharp.

Sammy Francis (#35) took the stage win in an impressive 3:49:24.0, the fastest Adventure male time of the day. He attacked the course with confidence and made the most of the gravel roads and flowing single track.

Emerson Ulloa Avila (#61) finished second in 4:25:00.7, with Roberto Solano Rivera (#60) taking third in 4:32:05.3. All three demonstrated how much strength remains even at the end of a multi-day challenge.

But beyond podium places, the Adventure field showed something just as powerful: joy. Runners crossing the final beach stretch with arms raised. Friends waiting at the line. The relief of knowing the journey was complete.

In the Adventure women’s race, Laura Zúñiga Alcázar claimed the Stage 6 win in 4:23:00.4 with a composed and determined effort.

Behind her, Toni Clarke and Kristel Polet (#34) finished in an exact tie at 4:26:27.0. A rare and beautiful result. Two athletes, side by side on the final day, sharing the moment.

That image said a lot about this race. It is competitive, yes. But it is also shared. Shared struggle. Shared laughter. Shared relief.

Stage 6 is always emotional. It marks the end of something intense and rare. Days of running through one of the most biodiverse regions on Earth. Corcovado’s wild heart. The raw coastline of Bahía Drake. The rhythm of waves and jungle birds.

This final loop captures everything the Coastal Challenge stands for. Variety in terrain. Beauty in every direction. Difficulty that forces growth. Moments that stay with you long after the medal is packed away.

The waterfalls cool the body. The jungle humbles you. The beaches test your patience. The gravel roads demand grit. The single track rewards focus. The water crossings refresh and surprise. And the views remind you why you signed up in the first place.

By the time runners reached the finish line on Stage 6, medals waiting, there was a mix of tears and laughter. Some sat quietly, absorbing it. Some embraced teammates. Some looked back toward the ocean.

Happiness doesn’t always arrive loudly. Sometimes it comes in a deep breath after days of effort. In the simple act of standing still after so much forward motion.

For the Adventure and Expedition categories, the journey is now complete. The miles are done. The jungle has been crossed. The beaches have been run.

And for Erick Agüero, after eight attempts, the dream has finally been realized.

Stage 6 wasn’t just the end of a race. It was the celebration of persistence, community, and the unforgettable experience of running through one of the most beautiful corners of the world. Medals were placed around tired necks. Eyes were wet. Smiles were wide.

The Coastal Challenge once again delivered more than a competition. It delivered a journey.

Expedition Overall Ranking

  • Erick Aguerro 31:46:30
  • Jesus Cerdas Padilla 32:58:06
  • Jon Shield 33:41:20
  • Denis Zelaya 36:54:34
  • Janina Beck 41:53:37
  • Floribeth Perez 47:36:05

Race results https://www.webscorer.com/

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EVEREST TRAIL RACE 2025 – STAGE 6

The Final Push to Glory in Lukla

The end is in sight. After five brutal, beautiful days in the high Himalayas, Stage 6 of the 2025 Everest Trail Race delivers the final blow and the final reward. It’s 28.5 kilometres fo Lukla, a day marked by more descent than ascent: 2612 meters down, 1578 meters up, and every single step earned.

An early start, the arrival of the sun and soon, the heat will come – not only in the sky but with the bodies of each participant.

The day kicks off with iconic trails that weave from Stupa to Stupa to Namche Bazaar, the buzzing Sherpa hub perched on the mountainside like a fortress.

The backdrop behind, stunning, but the participants don’t get a chance to see it…

Namche brings checkpoint 1, it’s welcome, the early kilometres had worked the body hard with a steep descent, followed by a gentle climb and then an ‘easy’ run to the refreshment.

The early kilometers retrace some familiar ground – Sanasa, Phunki Tenga, and trails edged with mani stones and prayer flags, twisting through pine forests and clinging to cliffs. But don’t call it a repeat. The fatigue, the altitude, and the stakes make every step feel different.

This stage is less about vertical brutality and more about holding form, keeping control as the trail drops fast and hard. Quads burn, knees scream, but momentum is everything.

Soon, the trail funnels runners toward the legendary new Hillary Bridge – a sweeping, high-tension crossing that swings over the Dudh Kosi with views that could stop you in your tracks, if the clock wasn’t ticking.

Past the bridge, it’s Jorsale, where the race starts to feel like it’s dragging runners home. The Phakding checkpoint (CP2) marks another milestone, each bib scanned there is one step closer to Everest Trail Race glory.

By the time runners hit Cheplung, it’s all on the table. Here, a sharp left turn signals the endgame: the final climb to Lukla and oce again, Nepal and the Porters remind us, how lucky we are!

It’s not long, but it bites. After the day’s long descent, this uphill kick demands whatever strength is left in the tank. Runners grit teeth, dig deep, and push toward the town that marks the start of most Everest dreams, and now, the finish of this one.

Crossing into Lukla is like breaking through into another world. Crowds, bells, cheers, and tears—this is where it all ends. For some, it’s a triumphant sprint. For others, a silent, emotional walk over the line. But for everyone, it’s the culmination of six days of relentless racing through some of the world’s toughest terrain.

The 2025 Everest Trail Race is done, everyone earned more than a medal, they earned the mountain’s respect.

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EVEREST TRAIL RACE 2025 – STAGE 4

INTO THE HEART OF THE HIMALAYA

After three gruelling stages through remote and rugged terrain, Stage 4 of the Everest Trail Race turns the page. Today, the athletes trade solitude for the storied footpaths of Nepal’s most iconic trekking corridor. This is the gateway to Everest.

A warmer night, lower altitude and this morning, the runner’s may have felt a little more rested, however, stage 4 was intimidating.

Covering 27.36 kilometers with 2,170 meters of elevation gain, Stage 4 is no break in the action. It’s a demanding route with steep climbs, quad-burning descents, and a new cast of characters on the trail: trekkers, porters, yaks, and teahouses buzzing with the hum of expedition life.

From the gun, it’s all uphill. The stage opens with a brutal 1,000-meter climb in just over 6 kilometres. The goal? Kari La, perched at 3,080 meters. This is the kind of climb that shows no mercy. Legs burn, lungs strain, and the views remind runners they’re racing through giants.

Checkpoint 1 at Paia arrives as a welcome relief. It’s a place to regroup, rehydrate, and reset. But the descent to Surke at 2,750 meters is no victory lap. Fast, technical, and relentless, it punishes tired legs before the next climb begins.

From Surke, runners face another grind: the climb to Chaurikharka (Checkpoint 2) at 2,621 meters. It’s lower in altitude but still a fight, especially coming late in the stage. From there, the course becomes unpredictable: a rollercoaster of ups and downs, testing whatever reserves are left.

The final push into Phakding at 2,620 meters marks more than the end of the stage. It’s a symbolic arrival.

The runners are now on sacred ground, part of the ancient route to Everest Base Camp. The trails are busier, the lodges more frequent, and the landscape unmistakably Himalayan.

Stage 4 isn’t just a physical battle, it’s a transition. The isolation of the early stages gives way to the buzz of one of the world’s most legendary trekking routes. But don’t let the crowds fool you. With over 2,000 meters of climbing and the fatigue of three hard days behind them, today was a war of attrition.

The finish line at Phakding means rest, food, and maybe even a little comfort, tents are traded for a lodge. Everest still looms. And the toughest stage lies ahead – stage 5 the ultimate test.

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EVEREST TRAIL RACE 2025 – STAGE 2

BRUTAL BEAUTY AND RELENTLESS CLIMBING

Stage 2 of the Everest Trail Race doesn’t waste time. The gun goes off, and it hits hard, right into a beast of a climb that defines the day. The route is 26.6 kilometers with 1,483 meters of vertical gain, but ask anyone who ran it: it feels like double that.

The stage opens with arguably the most iconic stretch of the entire race, a 4km climb straight out of the start gate, topping out at the summit of Pike Peak at 4,046 meters. There’s no easing into it. You’re immediately lunging skyward, legs burning, lungs gasping, every step on loose rock and narrow trail.

But what a reward. The views from Pike Peak are the kind you earn. Everest, Thamserku, and the distant giants of the Himalayas tower on the horizon.

There’s a strange serenity up there—above the tree line, above the chaos, if only your quads weren’t screaming so loudly.

From the summit, runners are thrown into a tricky descent, technical, steep, and demanding full attention. This is no cruise; it’s controlled aggression. The terrain underfoot is a mix of loose stone and rutted trail, constantly shifting. Jase Bhanjyang appears below like a mirage, a short-lived reprieve at 3,510m before the next test.

After a quick breath, it’s back uphill, another climb, this time to 3,800m. It’s less brutal than the first, but by now the fatigue is setting in. The altitude, the sun, the effort, they add up. This section wears on you slowly, sapping strength before delivering a massive release:

This is the stage’s exhale. A long, fast descent winds down to Jumbesi, where Checkpoint 2 awaits. The descent is runnable FOR SOME but relentless. It’s a test of patience, footwork, and knowing how much to push without blowing up. At CP2, some collapse into chairs, others refuel and move quickly, no time to waste.

From Jumbesi, the route shifts gears. A more gradual climb takes runners to Phurteng at 3,000m, a steady push that gnaws at tired legs. Then, a rolling descent gives a hint of relief, but it’s a trap.

Because this stage has a final sting: the kick to Ringmo. Just when you think you’ve made it, the trail juts upward again before finally dropping into the finish at 2,740m. It’s psychological warfare. You can see Ringmo before you reach it – but the trail makes you fight for it.

Stage 2 is a monster. On paper, it doesn’t look like the toughest, less gain than Stage 1, more downhill, but the terrain, altitude, and sequence of climbs make it punishing. The raw elevation loss (2,203m) sounds helpful, but it hammers your legs in a different way. Many finish looking shell-shocked. Others, oddly exhilarated.

This is the Everest Trail Race offers up some of the most staggering views you’ll ever see on a race course, and today, in the shadow of Pike Peak, the price of admission was steep but worth it.

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MDS 120 JORDAN 2025 – Stage 3

Stage 3 of MDS 120 Jordan, 26 unforgiving kilometres, darkness and the glow of head torches started a day full of promise and pressure. At sunrise, Wadi Rum ignited in gold.

This was the final stretch, the last push through soft sand, searing silence, and soul-stirring scenery. One last chance to earn the medal. One last trial through the desert’s raw beauty and brutal truth.

The route cut through a living painting, towering rock faces, vast plains, and dunes sculpted by centuries of wind.

The first challenge: a steep descent down a glowing dune, soft sand cascading beneath every step. It was beautiful. It was punishing.

As the sun climbed, so did the heat. Every footfall dragged through thick sand. Every glance ahead revealed more of the same: no shortcuts, no reprieve, just the relentless call to keep going.

The terrain twisted between jagged mountains and flat expanses that played tricks on your sense of distance. Wadi Rum doesn’t offer false hope, only real demands. But in that, it gives something rare – clarity.

At the conclusion of stage 3, runners will have logged 70, 100, or even 120 kilometres across Jordan’s desert. Stage 3 wasn’t just the final day, it was the exclamation point.

Bodies were depleted, minds frayed, but the finish line pulled like gravity.

And what a finish. The final stretch opened into a wide, sun-drenched plain, the sound of cheers carried by desert wind.

At the line, tears flowed freely of pain, pride, exhaustion, and elation. Medals were placed on tired and elated bodies, but the real reward was something deeper.

Every runner who crossed that line brought a story. Some came to test limits, others to heal, some to prove a point only they could understand. Each journey was personal, yet all were part of something greater, a living, breathing mosaic of endurance and emotion. This is what made MDS 120 Jordan more than a race.

And within the mosaic, some pieces really stood out, especially the two pieces of Danielle and Bernard – Bernard had completed MDS Legendary and wanted to share the MDS experience with his wife of 50-years – they experienced MDS 120 Jordan, side-dy-side, an incredible and awe inspiring journey of love and solidarity that touched the sole of every participant and staff – this personifies MDS.

And then there’s Jordan itself, its people, its land, its soul. Their generosity turned this challenge into a celebration. Without them, the journey would have been just hard. With them, it was unforgettable.

Now it’s over. Sand still clings to shoes and skin.

Muscles ache. But the desert leaves more than blisters and fatigue, it leaves memories burned into the heart. It leaves friendships forged in dust and sweat.

Stage 3 wasn’t just an ending. It was a transformation. And the desert? It watched silently, as always, as each runner a piece, a small tiny piece and part of the vast, magnificent puzzle that is MDS 120 Jordan.

And each runner will carry it with them forever…. It leaves a new version of themself, one they didn’t know existed.

Interested in a MARATHON DES SABLES EVENT?

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Episode 253 – Lydia Oldham

Photo by Ian Corless

From Lockdown Laps to FKT’s

Lydia started running during lockdown whist living in the UK. From very slow 2km runs, Lydia soon progressed to creating her own approach to running and ultra.

“What started as a way to escape the East London party scene has evolved into a pursuit of wild ultra-running missions.” – article here.

She did road marathons, but did them different, failed at her first ultra, but then something clicked…

The Speed Project solo in the USA – 500km in 5 days.

Oman Desert Marathon – done.

FKT across 650km of the Camino de Santiago in Portugal – done.

Photo by Ian Corless

Now she lines up at OCC during UTMB week and follows up with her own fundraising project in the UK.

2026? she’s coming to Costa Rica to face heat, jungle, mountains, and coastline of The Coastal Challenge.

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