The Conquer – $10k Winner Take All. The Amateur’s Dream
For those in the Ultrarunning community, The Conquer received a lot of notoriety and acclaim after its 1st edition in January 2024. It originated as a 5k or 3.1-mile loop around Amicalola Falls State Park that included climbing the infamous 605 stairs up the waterfall to end each loop. The 2nd Annual Conquer, uniquely held for the 2nd time in 2024 due to park updates, brought out some of the best amateurs in the world. It was an international affair with athletes across the United States and multiple countries.
I paid close attention to the 1st event, being
very interested in how a prize pool would affect the results. Single-digit
temperatures radiated throughout the park and the combatants grinded out hour
after hour in brutal conditions. I was injured and unable to compete, but I was
impressed by how far the event went in freezing conditions. When the event
rolled around to December, I was reluctant to sign up, to be honest. Climbing
and elevation are not my strong suit in running. The course was scheduled to be
extended to 4.2 miles, making the event significantly more difficult than the
inaugural event.
To be honest, I was intimidated by the entrant list and
didn’t feel like I belonged. Several people asked me if I was going to enter,
but I didn’t feel like I could contend. Things have a funny way of working out.
About a month before the event, my good friend Viktoria reached out to me if I
was interested in running. I was extremely grateful and accepted the
invitation. I had just started a high-elevation training block with the intent
to enter a timed event that was a shorter loop but had a similar elevation
profile.
After accepting the invite, I began freaking out. I had
anxiety attacks in my sleep with a lot of restless nights. Work was a major
stressor, but this was the 1st race/event that I had entered in a
very long time that legitimately scared me. I was highly motivated to prepare
myself by running the loop around the park for practice. In mid-November, I
went out for a training run coincidentally on National Hiking Day. I ran
steadily along the loop, trying to get familiar with the course and determine
how feasible this event was. My 1st lap was 58 minutes, where I was
getting familiar and taking my time. The next 3 loops, I ran steadily along the
route getting my time around 52-53 minutes. In the 5th and final loop,
I started pushing the pace to the edge of comfortable and finished in
approximately 50 minutes. I had a lot more confidence that this route was
sustainable into the night. I knew the stairs were going to hurt… A LOT, but
there are several places where I can practice climbing. Looking back, time on a
stair stepper would have been beneficial and a nice way to stay out of the
cold.
In the lead-up to the event, I knew I needed a crew to help get
through the night. At several points, I thought I had crew, but ultimately was
going to end up solo for the 1st 12 hours or so. This means I would
have to handle the night transition by myself. The week of the event was
stressful, the double runs I was doing were replaced by long hours at work. I
knew Saturday work was looming. I notified everyone multiple times I was
physically unavailable on Saturday and Sunday. On Friday, I was asked to come to
work Saturday morning. I nearly lost my job saying I was unavailable. I
countered by offering to perform testing solo Friday night or Saturday
overnight, doing the equivalent of what I was being asked to do. Luckily, I was
able to find someone to cover for me and worked late Friday to set up all the
necessary equipment for testing before leaving work.
I had all my gear organized the best that I could and loaded
up the car minus food and drink Friday night. I woke up at 3:30 AM Saturday
morning, finished packing the car, and made the 2-hour drive to the park.
Normally, I would have gotten a place to stay but the work situation made me
reluctant to book anything. Arriving early had its perks; I was able to park
adjacent to the end of the loop in the corral area next to my car. This allowed
an elaborate set up under a canopy and left certain items in my car, making
things less cluttered. I got set up with an hour to go and took a 30-minute nap
in the passenger seat of my car staying warm.
Before the start, I was able to meet my neighbors, catch up
with old friends, and receive race instructions. I was assigned bib #423, which
is the area code of Chattanooga. It resonated with me that I was representing
more than just myself, but my running community. The weather was cold at the
start, but the day was promising with highs around 50. Before I know it, it’s
8:00. It’s time. The gate opens and we all take off. Most of the runners are
bombing down the rugged, technical single track. I decide to carefully maneuver
and navigate downwards. Mile 1 is a 500 ft drop until you reach the back of the
visitors center. Then, you make a loop through the parking lot and go through
the archway toward the base of the waterfall. We loop around the base parking lot
and picnic areas to the creek trail. We are already halfway through the loop.
Now the technical climbing begins. We climb up, down, and
around the Laurel Falls trail for mile 3. The rest of the course is reserved
for the Waterfall climb. It starts with a steep concrete path that leads to 605
stairs up the waterfall broken into 2 sections. The slope varies from step to
step. The metal underneath your feet is not solid, so trekking poles are not
very useful. There is a wooden handrail accessible in most locations, but it
requires you to lean to one side. You must do so carefully to balance the load
on the left- and right-hand side. During the day, the path leading to the
stairs was more difficult than the stair itself. I remained steady lap and lap
in the daytime, settling in at a 52-minute pace. I started as one of the last
people to finish the loop, but as the day went on, the other competitors would
fall back to my pace. Someone would be eliminated nearly every hour. The day
went by uneventfully.
As the day faded and nightfall was settling in, things
became increasingly more difficult. I was struggling with anxiety and panicking
with the limited time between loops and the delay of the crew arriving. The 8-minute
breaks were now down to 5. I wasn’t pushing the pace, but the stairs at the end
of each loop left my brain as mush. The weather changed dramatically early into
the night; the temperature dropped 10-15 degrees in an hour. The wind gusts
went straight down the waterfall like a wind tunnel, forcing everyone to
continue at a steady pace up the waterfall as the time for each loop wound
down. After loop 11, I only had about 3ish minutes after a planned bathroom
break to get ready. I searched for meds, and quickly grabbed food and drink. I
saw my neighbor in pain, so I asked if they needed anything. They said no.
Before I knew it, the next loop started. I had 1 minute to
get through the corral. I race through the gate 30 seconds after the start. I
heard a thud as I started and quickly realized that my headlamp had come off. I
searched my vest for my spare running light. I pulled it out and it was dead. I
didn’t have my cell phone on me, so I was destined to attempt this loop without
light on this pitch-black loop. I carefully traversed down the steep grade
going strictly on memory, navigating the loose rocks and deteriorating trail. I
ran as hard as I could to catch the back of the pack and was able to get within
sight of a runner. I followed them down the trail until they dropped me halfway
through. I am walking down the technical trail when I see a headlamp above me.
There was another runner that left at the last second and I didn’t notice. I
waited up for them and ran with them down to the bottom. The next mile I ran as
hard as I could along the visitor center and non-technical trails. I was able
to catch the next group of runners as we entered the Laurel Trail.
I slowed down my pace along the rim and carefully climbed
working with the runners around me. They were kind enough to let me run with
and behind them. I let them lead the way through the technical single-track trail
down to the waterfall. We are on pace to finish, but only have another 3
minutes to get ready for the next loop. I navigated up the stairs one more
time, remaining steady. I get to the top and finish the loop with 5 minutes to
go and Angelo is there to help me through. The death spiral has already started,
and I need him to be on point to have any chance of recovering. I quickly give
him instructions on what I need, 2 Headlamps, something to drink, and a thicker
top layer. With 30 seconds to go until the start, I give him instructions on
what to have prepared for the next loop. I tell him to get familiar with everything
and reorganize the space to his liking.
Loop 13 is brutal. There are a lot of people hanging towards
the back, trying to make it 1 more loop. I feel okay but sore physically and
exhausted mentally. My head is spinning and spiraling out of control after having
to navigate a loop around the Blue Ridge in pitch black. I take some deep
breaths and every couple of minutes count to 10 so I can calibrate. The climb
is taking its toll on me. My calves and quads felt destroyed after the last
loop, but I ground and finished the loop. I got back and didn’t have the items
I needed set aside for a quick turnaround. We’re scrambling to get a flask and
a snack ready. Angelo is giving me everything he has right off him LOL. I ask
him to grab my meds, and he can’t find the container I’m looking for. I know
where it is, but he’s trying so hard. It’s a mess. I give him all the credit in
the world trying to keep up with everything during chaos.
The energy has changed significantly on Loop 14. I am in the
middle of 2 groups of runners. The start of the loop isn’t so bad, but the 2nd
half is brutal. The steep and uneven climbs are taking their toll. I now must
take 10-second breaks on the stairs to compose myself. I am dealing with
severe cramping and struggling to climb steadily. The new norm is about 56-minute
loops, but I’m growing tired, cranky, and frustrated at the situation. I’m
trying to remain levelheaded going on loop 15. I noticed at the start that the
field shrunk significantly, but quickly refocused to completing the next loop.
The climbs are really starting to hurt now, even at the base of the park I can
feel my quads lock up. I struggle mightily through the Laurel trail and reach
the base of the waterfall with enough time to finish, but unsure of how much
time I’ll have to get ready for #16. I lean over the railing as I pull myself step
by step with my quads locked and stiff-legged. Tears of anger and frustration
are overcoming me. The cold breeze is deteriorating my will to continue.
I reach the top of the staircase, and I can’t even shuffle
on flat ground. I finished with 2 minutes to go and am just done. I sit in the
chair trying to relax for a moment. I’m content with my performance. Suddenly I
hear the next loop start and something inside of me is not ok quitting in the
chair. I tell Angelo to hand me stuff and I’m going to give this loop a try. I
take a ton of meds hoping to recover enough for 1 more. The field has now
dwindled from 45 to 10 and I take off with a vengeance down the trail seconds
before the gate closes. I catch up with the back of the pack and feel pretty
good traversing downhill and on pace after 1 mile. Going through the arch and
visitors center, I tell Angelo I will let him know when I make it back to this
point if I intend to finish this loop. Going uphill is another story. I can
barely climb a slight upslope at a shuffle. After a minute my quads locked, so I
decided to power hike to the road. I try again to shuffle to hold pace and I’m
just unable to. Running the road downhill is no better. I feel everything tight
as a rock and after about 100 yards, I slow down to a power hike. I just don’t
have the power necessary to stay on track and on pace. Halfway through the
loop, I get to Angelo off-pace and throw in the towel. I honestly don’t know if
I can climb the waterfall 1 more time, much less finish the loop before the
limit. He drives back up to the start, I explain to everyone that I dropped on
16 and my crew picked me up. I place my $100 bill in the treasure chest and
receive my DNW medal.
My body froze immediately. I change clothes inside my car
and attempt to recover. I head out for loop 17 and wish the final 8 competitors
good luck. Angelo graciously packs my car up…. it’s an absolute mess but
we fit everything in there eventually. I had zero troubles and the front seat was empty
when I loaded it and had more stuff LMAO. I finished T-9th and
signaled the start of the endgame for everyone else. 4 runners achieved the 24-hour
mark which is quite impressive. The last 2 dueled throughout all of Sunday with
the winner lasting 35 hours. David from Denmark won the prize in quite an
impressive feat. I thought 18-20 hours was realistic with a chance at 24 hours,
but my mental game wasn’t where it needed to be. I don’t think I could have physically
made it 35 hours, but it would have been nice to make it through the night. I hope
to recover soon and challenge myself again in 2025. Here are some event
pictures for you all.
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