IAN CORLESS

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The Coastal Challenge Costa Rica 2026 – Stage 2

Posted on February 9, 2026 by talkultra

Stage 2 of The Coastal Challenge Costa Rica delivered exactly what this race is known for: raw nature, relentless conditions, and a course that asks runners to adapt again and again. Starting deep in the rainforest at Rafiki Lodge, the day unfolded as a true Coastal Challenge classic, blending river crossings, technical trails, jungle heat, and a dramatic run to the sea.

From the first steps out of camp, it was clear this would not be a straightforward stage. The route followed the Savegre River, widely regarded as one of the cleanest and most biologically pristine rivers in Central America. Flowing from the highlands of the Talamanca Mountains down to the Pacific Ocean, the Savegre is internationally recognised for its exceptional water quality and rich biodiversity. Crossing it once would be memorable. Crossing it twice turned Stage 2 into something special.

The river crossings were more than just obstacles. They were moments that forced runners to slow down, focus, and respect the environment around them. Water rose around calves and knees, current tugged at tired legs, and the contrast between cool river water and the heavy jungle air was striking. It was a reminder that this race is as much about managing nature as it is about racing the clock.

After the river, the course tightened and twisted through rainforest trails. Roots, mud, and uneven ground demanded constant attention. The humidity settled in early and stayed all day. Even experienced runners felt the energy drain as the sun climbed higher. This is where The Coastal Challenge often reshuffles the deck, and Stage 2 was no exception.

For the Adventure race, the day began at CP2, roughly the midpoint of the Expedition route. While the distance was shorter, the challenge remained very real. Adventure runners faced the same heat, the same technical terrain, and the same unforgiving humidity. Starting later on the course offered no easy miles, only a condensed dose of everything Costa Rica can throw at a runner.

As both races pushed westward, the landscape began to change. Dense jungle gradually opened up, trails widened, and the distant sound of the ocean hinted at what was to come. Crossing road 34 marked a psychological shift. From there, runners entered the estuaries and beaches that lead toward Dominical. Soft sand replaced dirt, and the open coastline exposed runners to full sun with no shelter. Legs already fatigued now had to adapt once more.

This final section summed up Stage 2 perfectly. After jungle, rivers, and trails, the beach demanded a different kind of strength. Running on sand punished tired calves and slowed even the strongest athletes. Heat radiated from above and below. Yet the sight of the Pacific Ocean and the energy around the finish made it unforgettable.

At the front of the Expedition race, the men’s competition came alive. After a controlled and measured Stage 1, Erick Aguero delivered what many have come to recognise as a classic ‘Aguero’ performance. He pushed early, established himself at the front, and gradually opened a gap that no one could close. His strength through the technical sections and consistency in the heat paid off, as he crossed the line in a commanding 4:49:04 – al this despite receiving a dog bite during the race.

Behind him, the battle for the remaining podium places was hard-fought. Jesus Cerdas Padilla ran a strong and steady race to claim second in 5:11:54. Stage 1 winner Ramon Rosello Pons followed in third with a time of 5:24:03. With this result, Aguero moved into the overall lead, setting up an intriguing dynamic for the stages ahead.

In the women’s Expedition race, Denise Zelaya was in a class of her own. From early on, she looked composed and controlled, handling the heat and terrain with confidence. Her dominance was clear as the stage wore on, and she crossed the finish line in 5:59:12, underlining her strength and experience in these conditions. It was a decisive performance on a demanding day.

Janina Beck and Pamela Muñoz placed 2nd and 3rd, 7:05:12 and 7:11:12 respectively.

The Adventure race delivered its own drama. Sammy Francis led the way, crossing first in 3:40:51 after a determined run through the heat and sand. The fight for second was tight and exciting. Toni Clarke, the Stage 1 leader, finished second, just over 30 seconds behind Laura Zuniga Alcazar, who crossed in 3:59:28. The close times reflected the intensity of the race and the way Stage 2 squeezed every bit of effort from the field.

Beyond results and times, Stage 2 captured the essence of The Coastal Challenge. It was tough, unpredictable, and deeply connected to the landscape. Runners were forced to think, adapt, and endure. The Savegre River crossings stood out as defining moments, but the entire course demanded respect.

By the end of the day, fatigue was written on every face. Salt streaked skin, mud-caked legs, and tired smiles told the story better than words. It was a hard day, but an exciting one. Stage 2 reminded everyone why this race holds such a special place in the world of stage racing, it has a little of everything, and it never gives anything away easily. Let’s not forget, Dominical is also an awesome place for camp.

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

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The Coastal Challenge Costa Rica 2026 – Stage 1

Posted on February 8, 2026 by talkultra

Stage 1 of the 2026 The Coastal Challenge Costa Rica set the tone in the way it always does. It reminded everyone, very quickly, that Costa Rica plays by its own rules.

The day began long before sunrise. At 02:30, alarms cut through the darkness as runners gathered for a 03:30 departure, quiet conversations, nervous energy. There is something uniquely disorienting about starting a race day in the middle of the night, especially when the real work will not begin for several more hours. The long drive to the coast and Quepos was filled with anticipation and the kind of silence that comes when athletes are saving energy and thoughts for later.

By the time the start line finally came into view, just after 08:00, the sun was already making its presence known. The heat and humidity were not waiting for anyone. They never do. Stage 1 has a reputation, and once again it lived up to it. Starting late in the morning is always a challenge here. Bodies are not yet adapted, pacing plans are optimistic, and the Costa Rican climate is unforgiving if respect is not shown early.

From the beach start, the course wasted no time in revealing its character. Soft sand gave way to gravel roads, then into dense rainforest where the air felt heavier with every step. Climbs were sharp and relentless, descents technical and punishing on tired legs, and water crossings offered brief moments of relief before the heat closed in again. This was not a gentle introduction. This was pure Costa Rica.

In the Expedition race, Ramon Rosello took control early and never let it slip. He dictated the pace with confidence, moving smoothly through the terrain while others struggled to find rhythm. By the latter stages of the course, he had opened a substantial gap, finishing in a commanding 3:57:03. Behind him, Jon Shield fought hard in the conditions, crossing the line in 4:14:02. It was a clear statement from Rosello on a day where patience and experience mattered as much as speed.

Attention had been on Erick Aguirro going into the stage, with many expecting him to lead the day. However, a lingering injury told its own story. Though still competitive, Aguirro was unable to respond when the pace lifted, eventually finishing fourth behind Jesus Cerdas. On a course like this, even the smallest physical issue is magnified. Stage 1 has a way of exposing weaknesses, and there is little room to hide when the heat begins to bite.

In the women’s Expedition race, Denise Zelaya delivered a strong and controlled performance. She handled the conditions well, maintaining focus and discipline as others faded, to cross the line in 4:47:47. Janina Beck followed in 5:19:25, digging deep through the final kilometres as the accumulated fatigue of the day took hold. Both athletes showed the importance of measured pacing on a stage where ambition can quickly turn into survival.

The Adventure race brought its own drama and determination. Toni Clark led the women with a time of 4:29:41, showing resilience and strength across the varied terrain. For the men, Sammy Francis topped the standings in 3:45:28, navigating the course with efficiency and confidence. Across both races, the story was the same. Those who respected the day were rewarded. Those who did not paid for it.

Stage 1 is always tough, but it is especially brutal because the runners are not yet adapted to the environment. The heat punishes fast starts. The humidity steals energy quietly and persistently. Even seasoned athletes find themselves recalibrating expectations within the first hour. This year was no different. Faces at the finish told the story clearly. Relief, exhaustion, and a newfound respect for what lies ahead.

Costa Rica is at the heart of this race, not just as a location, but as a character in its own right. The diversity of the landscape is extraordinary. One moment you are running along the coastline with the Pacific at your side, the next you are climbing through thick jungle where the sounds of wildlife surround you. The beauty is undeniable, but it comes with a cost. Every climb, every descent, every humid kilometre demands something in return.

As runners made their way into Rafiki Lodge, recovery became the immediate focus. Cooling down, rehydrating, and reflecting on lessons learned. Many arrived with sore legs and humbled minds. Stage 1 has a habit of reshaping race strategies, and this year it was no exception. There was a shared understanding among competitors that the race had truly begun.

Tomorrow brings Stage 2, and with it, a much earlier start for the Expedition runners. Those early hours promise more comfortable conditions, at least by Costa Rican standards. The heat will still come, but later. For now, the priority is rest, refuelling, and preparation. The Coastal Challenge is not won on the first day, but it can certainly be lost.

Stage 1 from Quepos to Rafiki Lodge delivered everything it promised. Heat, humidity, challenge, and beauty in equal measure. It reminded everyone why this race is so highly regarded, and why Costa Rica demands respect. The journey has only just begun, and already it has left its mark.

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MDS 120 ATLANTIC COAST 2026 – STAGE 3

Posted on January 31, 2026 by talkultra

Stage 3 of the MDS 120 Atlantic Coast wasn’t about pace. It was about heart. Twenty-seven kilometres stood between every runner and the finish. The final stage. The one that decides how the story ends.

The day opened under a heavy sky. Low cloud hung over the coast, light rain drifting in and out, just enough to cool the skin and sharpen the mood. It felt serious. Proper. A stage that demanded respect.

From the first steps, the terrain made its intentions clear. Soft sand soaked up energy. Feet sank, calves burned, rhythm disappeared. Progress came the hard way, one honest stride at a time.

Then there was the Atlantic – Wild. Loud. Unapologetic. The ocean pushed high up the beach, swallowing the firm running line and forcing everyone into deeper, slower sand. The final ten kilometres became a test of patience and grit. Shoes heavy with water. Legs tight. Eyes fixed forward. The sound of the waves constant, relentless, daring you to stop.

Every runner carried their own journey into those final kilometres. Some had 70 kilometres in their legs. Others 100. Many the full 120. Different distances, same effort. Same doubts. Same determination.

And then, finally, the finish.

Not a sprint. Not fireworks. Just raw, unfiltered emotion.

Tears mixed with rain. Smiles broke through exhaustion. Hugs lasted longer than words. That medal, placed gently around tired necks, meant everything. It wasn’t just metal. It was proof. Of discipline. Of resilience. Of promises kept when quitting would have been easier.

This is what the Atlantic Coast gives you.

It gives you challenge. It gives you atmosphere. It gives you moments where the world narrows down to breath, movement, and will. And in return, it gives you something rare. A finish that feels truly earned.

If you’re looking for a race that stays with you long after the sand is washed from your shoes, this is it. The coast is waiting.

MDS Tour and MDS Clubs for 2026

Join the MDS Clubs on HEYLO HERE.

The MDS Tour starts in January and moves from location to location, Register HERE

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MDS 120 ATLANTIC COAST 2026 – STAGE 2

Posted on January 31, 2026 by talkultra

Stage 2 of the MDS 120 Atlantic Coast 2026 arrived with options and consequences. Twenty kilometres, forty, or the full sixty. Three distances, one shared truth: today would ask more than legs. It would ask for patience, judgement, and honesty. The course did not care which option was chosen. It simply waited, stretching out along the Atlantic edge, ready to test everyone who stepped onto it.

The morning hinted at uncertainty. Low cloud rolled in from the ocean, cool air brushing faces that had already been scoured by salt and sand. There was a little rain, just enough to darken the ground and sharpen the smell of wet earth. Then the sun broke through, sudden and bright, as if to remind the field that comfort would be temporary and effort unavoidable. It was a day of changeable weather in every sense, and the tone was set early. Adjust. Adapt. Keep moving.

From the first kilometres, the terrain refused to settle into anything predictable. Soft sand swallowed shoes and rhythm, turning simple forward motion into work. Each step demanded attention. Ankles wobbled, calves burned, and breathing grew louder. Then the sand gave way to rocky plateau, hard and uneven underfoot.

The pace changed again, this time to caution. Eyes stayed down, scanning for safe placement. The plateau opened wide, exposing runners to the elements and to themselves. There was nowhere to hide from the wind, the sun, or the thoughts that arrive when the body starts to ask hard questions.

Flooded gorges brought a different challenge. Water pooled where it was least expected, cool and deceptively deep. Shoes filled, socks soaked, and the familiar squelch followed each step on the exit. Some laughed at the absurdity of it. Others grimaced, knowing wet feet mean blisters later. But everyone crossed, because stopping was never really an option. This race does not negotiate.

Beyond the gorges, the course stretched into wide open terrain. The Atlantic Ocean appeared and disappeared, sometimes a distant shimmer, sometimes close enough to hear. The scale of the landscape made individuals feel small, but also free. Lines of colour moved slowly across the land as runners spread out, each locked into their own effort. This was where time began to behave strangely. Minutes felt long. Hours blurred. The distance chosen mattered less than the simple act of continuing.

The final stretch ran flat and true, parallel to the ocean. It should have felt easier. On paper, it was. In reality, it was where fatigue spoke loudest. The body was already empty. The mind had been negotiating for kilometres. Yet the finish lay ahead, invisible at first, then slowly, mercifully, real. The ocean rolled on, indifferent and steady, while the race reached its quiet climax.

The finish line became a gathering point for everything this day had taken and given. It was a welcome sight, one that drew out raw emotion without apology. Tears fell freely, sometimes before the line, sometimes after. Laughter broke out in short bursts, the kind that comes when tension finally releases. There was joy, genuine and earned, mixed with exhaustion that sat deep in the bones. Some crossed upright and strong. Others bent double, hands on knees, searching for breath. All were changed.

The day stretched long into the night. Headlamps flickered in the distance as darkness closed in. Volunteers stayed wrapped in layers, voices steady, encouragement unwavering. The clock kept moving. And then, close to 2300 hours, the final finisher crossed the line. There was no rush. No hurry to be anywhere else. Just a moment held for someone who refused to stop. Applause cut through the night, not loud, but meaningful. This, too, mattered.

Stage 2 was not about speed. It was about choice and consequence, about learning the difference between discomfort and danger, about discovering how much is left when you think there is nothing. Today, participants found out who they are and why they are here. Some answers were quiet. Others arrived with force. But they arrived all the same.

There were moments of doubt, of frustration, of anger at the sand, the stones, the weather, the distance. There were also moments of clarity, when effort narrowed the world down to the essentials. Step. Breathe. Drink. Keep going. In those moments, the noise of everyday life fell away. What remained was simple and honest.

As the camp settles and the body begins to cool, tomorrow offers something rare in this environment. A day of rest. A pause. Time to recharge and recover. Muscles will stiffen, feet will tell their stories, and minds will replay the day in fragments. There will be care, conversation, and quiet pride. Because Stage 2 demanded respect, and those who met it earned that rest.

The Atlantic continues to roll in the dark. The course waits. And the field, changed by today, will rise again when it is time.

MDS Tour and MDS Clubs for 2026

Join the MDS Clubs on HEYLO HERE.

The MDS Tour starts in January and moves from location to location, Register HERE

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MDS 120 ATLANTIC COAST 2026 – STAGE 1

Posted on January 26, 2026 by talkultra

Stage 1 of the 2nd edition of the MDS 120 Atlantic Coast marked a powerful and inspiring beginning to the adventure in Morocco, where the desert meets the Atlantic Ocean. A field of 250 participants set out on this opening day, with an impressive 80 percent taking on their very first MDS experience. Just under half of the runners were women, and the age range spoke volumes about the inclusive spirit of the race, from the youngest at 19 years old to the oldest at 78. With 30 nationalities represented and the support of 147 dedicated staff, the event immediately felt global, vibrant, and alive.

This first stage covered 23km, with 343m of elevation gain, following a point-to-point route along the Atlantic coast. Checkpoints were placed at 9.1km and 17km, guiding runners through a constantly changing landscape.

The terrain offered little rhythm. Soft sand drained energy, dry river beds broke momentum, and rocky plateaus demanded focus and careful footwork. While the elevation profile looked modest on paper, the reality underfoot made it a demanding day from start to finish. The sand, in particular, turned every step into a test of patience and strength.

The challenge began long before the start line. A 2am wake-up, followed by a 3am departure and a lengthy transfer, asked a lot of the runners before dawn had even broken. Yet spirits remained high. These athletes were fully self-sufficient, carrying everything they needed on their backs, managing their nutrition, hydration, and equipment as they moved across the course. It was a true test of endurance, organisation, and resilience.

Despite the early start, the travel, and the relentless terrain, the performance across the field was outstanding. Every runner dug deep, and the final participant crossed the finish line well within the cut-off time, greeted with applause and encouragement.

As the sun dipped and the day drew to a close, the runners settled in for their first night under the stars on the Atlantic coast. Tired legs, sandy shoes, and quiet smiles told the story of a hard-earned first stage completed. It was a demanding, memorable opening chapter, and a clear signal that the MDS 120 Atlantic Coast is as much about heart and determination as it is about distance.

MDS Tour and MDS Clubs for 2026

Join the MDS Clubs on HEYLO HERE.

The MDS Tour starts in January and moves from location to location, Register HERE

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LOFOTEN STAGE RUN 2026 – SIGN UP!

Posted on December 22, 2025 by talkultra

Lofoten Stage Run by the team at The Arctic Triple – Is the world’s most beautiful stage run, a rare kind of race that feels less like an event and more like a journey.

From 26 to 31 May 2026, a small group of just 30 runners will cross one of the most dramatic landscapes on the planet, moving step by step through mountains, fjords, beaches, and fishing villages under the returning light of the Arctic summer.

Set in Lofoten, Norway, this is a real multi-day adventure race spread over six days and four stages. The archipelago rises straight from the sea, with sharp granite peaks, narrow coastal trails, and open horizons in every direction. Late May is when the midnight sun begins to settle in, stretching the days and bathing the landscape in soft, golden light that never quite fades. You’ll run when the sun hangs low above the water, when shadows move slowly across the mountains, and when time feels different.

The race offers two distances. The 170 km Expedition Run covers four demanding stages between 34 and 52 kilometres, designed for runners who want a deep, physical immersion in the terrain. The 100 km Adventure Run follows the same spirit across four stages between 17 and 35 kilometres, offering a shorter but equally powerful experience. Both routes blend runnable sections with technical trails that require focus, respect for the landscape, and a steady rhythm rather than speed alone.

What sets Lofoten Stage Run apart is the way everything is woven together. From the moment we meet in Svolvær the day before race day, the experience is fully taken care of. Accommodation is comfortable, meals are generous and rooted in local flavors, and your luggage moves seamlessly from basecamp to basecamp. You run light, recover well, and wake up ready for the next stage. Every detail is designed so you can stay present in the experience rather than worry about logistics.

Each day on the trail brings something new. A climb that opens onto a wide fjord. A quiet stretch along white sand with turquoise water at your side. A remote valley where the only sounds are your breath and the wind. One stage begins with a boat ride into the heart of the landscape, delivering you to the start line in Kjerkfjorden, surrounded by steep walls of rock and sea. These are the moments that stay with you long after the race is over.

Evenings slow the pace. Warm dinners are shared around the table, stories traded between tired legs and smiling faces. With such a small field, the atmosphere stays personal and welcoming. You don’t disappear into a crowd. You become part of a temporary community moving together through a wild place. There is time to rest, to talk, to look out over the water and realise how far you’ve come.

The entry fee includes the entire package: five nights of accommodation, including the night before the race and the night after finishing, race registration, luggage transport, all meals from the first day in Svolvær until breakfast on day six, start kit, The Arctic Triple buff, service stations, first aid and evacuation transport, timing and tracking, warm dinner every night, the boat transfer to the starting line, and a quality finisher award. Everything is included so the focus stays where it should be, on the running and the place.

Lofoten Stage Run is not about crowds, noise, or chasing records. It’s about long days on epic trails, running beneath the midnight sun, and experiencing Norway at its most raw and beautiful. This is a race for runners who want more than a finish line, who are drawn to wild landscapes, shared effort, and the quiet magic that happens when movement, nature, and light come together.

Only 10-places remain for the 2026 edition, be quick!

Sign up HERE

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MDS 120 PERU 2025 – Stage 3

Posted on December 5, 2025 by talkultra

The last stage of MDS 120 Peru opened in darkness. Two waves, 0500 and 0600, slipped out of bivouac beneath a sky heavy with cloud and mist. It was a quiet start, almost private. Footsteps softened in the cool sand. Headlamps cut short beams through the haze. The whole scene carried a sombre tone, as if the desert itself was waiting to see who still had strength left to give.

Runners set off knowing this was it, 27.3km’s stood between them and the finish close to Laguna Grande, with the South Pacific stretching out behind Isla Independencia.

A straight line on paper. A world of effort in reality. After days of navigating sand ridges, barren slopes, and the weight of self sufficiency, the final morning felt like a test wrapped in silence.

Then the sun rose. Not with drama, but with intention, as if it had been saving its entrance for the moment runners needed it most. Light broke through the mist and transformed the mood. What had been grey became gold. What felt eerie turned warm. Shapes that were hidden came alive in full color. The desert opened up, and the coastline showed its depth. The day shifted from hard to hopeful in minutes.

The course unfolded in long stretches where the runners sat between sand and sea. To the left, dunes rising and falling with perfect curves. To the right, the ocean pulling at the shoreline with steady rhythm. The contrast was sharp. The calm blue of the Pacific. The pale heat of the desert.

The line of runners threading through it all. It was a route that looked simple but felt huge. Every kilometre carried its own personality. Hard packed sand, soft patches, wind-carved paths, open flats. The landscape changed often enough to keep minds awake, and beautiful enough to pull them forward.

The heat arrived just as the field settled into its stride. It wasn’t the fierce blowtorch heat of earlier days, but it was real. A reminder of where they stood. Yet the ocean breeze stepped in like a quiet ally. It never erased the challenge, but it kept it honest. It made the effort manageable, even enjoyable, for those who still had enough in the tank to look around and absorb the moment. The contrast between struggle and beauty gave the stage its edge. You work for every step, but you are rewarded at every turn.

Ahead waited the final finish line. The one everyone had imagined since the first briefing. Flags. A strip of sand. A medal that represents far more than distance. For some, it marked the end of 70km’s, for others, 100 or 120km.

The numbers matter less than what they represent. Hours of carrying everything you need. Days of managing effort, discomfort, nutrition, and doubt. Nights spent in bivouac with sand in their shoes and a story building in their mind. Every runner arrived with their own reason for standing on that line. Every runner left with their own version of pride.

Ocean, desert, island, sky. A backdrop that looked unreal even with tired eyes. The final meters felt both endless and too fast. Some ran strong. Some walked with purpose. Some cried.

Some smiled because crying would have taken too much energy. But when they crossed, the moment hit all the same. Relief, release, accomplishment. A medal placed on a dusty, sunburned chest always carries more weight than its metal. It is a statement: you finished what you started.

Peru helped deliver that feeling. This place is varied and magical in a way words only capture from the surface. Participants have now experienced it from within. They have lived at the pace of the terrain. They have watched light move across dunes and cliffs. They have felt the temperature swing, the sand shift, the silence settle. They have stared at landscapes that looked untouched and walked through areas shaped by wind, water, and time. The magic isn’t something you observe. It is something that gets into you until the experience becomes part of your memory, and part of your identity.

Self sufficiency sharpened that magic. Carrying your world on your back changes how you see everything. Meals taste different. Rest hits harder. Small wins grow bigger. Each person learned to handle the course with their own decisions. When to push. When to save. When to stop and fix something. That independence builds a kind of confidence that no one can hand you. You earn it step by step. You also earn the hardship that comes with it. Fatigue. Friction. Heat. Moments when your thoughts wander into the wrong corners. Yet that is where the race shifts from physical to personal. You leave with a stronger sense of who you are and what you can do.

Stage three completed that story. It tied the effort of previous days into one clean line toward Laguna Grande. A route that looked almost gentle from above but carried the full emotion of the journey. Those final twenty seven kilometers gave runners space to reflect. Not in a soft poetic way, but in the grounded, honest way that comes when you are tired but not broken. Many thought about why they came. Many thought about who helped them get here. Many thought about how they had changed over the past days. The finish line didn’t give those answers. It confirmed them.

What stands out from this stage is the sense of balance. Mist, then sun. Heat, then breeze. Hardship, then reward. Desert, then ocean. A final effort that closed the race exactly as it should have: with clarity. Runners saw Peru in wide angles and fine detail. They felt the country’s scale and its intimacy. They moved through places you cannot appreciate from a screen or a road. They earned every view and every step.

MDS 120 Peru is built on challenge, but it thrives on discovery. Participants discovered what the desert holds, what the coastline gives, and what they themselves can carry through heat, sand, and self doubt. They discovered that Peru is not only beautiful. It is alive, shifting, layered, and surprising in ways that stay with you.

Stage three delivered the finish, but more importantly, it delivered perspective. The medal is the symbol. The journey is the reward, the magic of Peru is something they will keep long after the sand is washed from their shoes.

More information about MARATHON DES SABLE – HERE

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EVEREST TRAIL RACE 2025 – STAGE 6

Posted on November 19, 2025 by talkultra

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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