2025 Cape Fear 24 Hour (Patrick Lloyd)

All right, race report time for the 2025 Cape Fear 24 Hour. Here’s the usual disclaimer: This is a long race report, and I take no offense if you don’t want to read it.

In fact, I wasn’t going to write this. I’ve done it for the previous four 100+ mile races I’ve done, so I was thinking, “Eh, let’s just sit this one out. Who cares?”

That question was answered on Monday from an unexpected source. A coworker of mine congratulated me on my finish and had some very nice things to say about my race report, which I did after finishing the 2024 Blackbeard’s Revenge 100. This is someone who doesn’t run at all, by the way. His kind words made me realize these race reports do have a positive impact on some people sometimes, and if I can provide that for even just one person, I’d argue it’s worth it. With all that said, let’s dive into it.

I usually like to be one and done with races. I like to see what else is out there. But on the car ride home after last year’s Cape Fear 24 Hour, I said, “I need to go back next year.” A lot of people don’t understand why I’d want to do a race that’s a 0.59-mile loop for 24 hours straight. But there’s something special about being around so many people who are so tough for so long that is captivating. Plus, this race is extremely well put on by race director/ultra legend Lisa Holland McFadden. I registered for this year’s race on January 1, the day registration opened.

Training was good. I made my training block only eight weeks, which is shorter than I’ve ever done before a 100+ mile race. That was intentional, because I’ve found I get super mentally worn out from training for longer than that. My peak week was 59 miles. My three longest runs were 26.2 miles, 31 miles, and 40 miles. The 31 and 40 milers were done around my block, which is 0.47 miles. Good training for the repetitive loops of the 0.59-mile race course.

Two weeks before the race, my plans for a crew fell through, so I was scrambling to get someone else to help me out. Eventually, my dad said he’d be willing to fly up from Tampa to be my crew. I’m extremely grateful he was willing to do that. Additionally, Wes Claytor and Tony McDermott said they could help crew/pace me overnight, which was amazing.

Knowing I had a solid training block and absolute pros to help me out, I set a goal of reaching the first 100 miles in under 20 hours, which would then leave me four hours to slog through as many miles as I could. I figured if I could keep a solid pace, 116 miles might be within the realm of possibility. Spoiler alert: It wasn’t. I’ll get more into that later.

Pre-race sleep is always horrible. You’re anxious and nervous, and if the race is far enough away from your home, you have to stay in a hotel, Airbnb, or a friend’s house that isn’t yours, making sleep even more difficult. Add to all those factors the fact that the clowns in the room next door to my and my dad’s hotel room were talking, screaming, and laughing until 1 a.m., and you’re dealing with one of the worst possible pre-race nights you can think of. My dad went to the front desk to get us a different room, which they said was non-smoking but was on the same floor as the smoking-allowed rooms, therefore making the whole floor smell like cigarettes. Fun. I think I got a total of three hours of sleep. Awesome.

patrick lloyd cape fear

At 8 a.m. on Saturday, the race started. I was feeling good, and everything was going really smoothly. I hit the 50-mile mark in 9:17:32 and the 100K mark in 11:48:39. I was still on pace to finish the first 100 miles in under 20 hours. My dad was absolutely nailing it as my crew. He was always on top of giving me food, water, and Gatorade. As a bonus, shortly after the race started, my dad let me know Andrew Dean Barrett was going to show up at 4 a.m. to finish the last four hours with me. I was super happy to hear that. That meant I had an all-star team of my dad, Wes, Tony, and Andy. It’s tough to think of a better squad than that to get you through 24 hours of running.

I didn’t experience any problems until maybe around the halfway mark. Whenever I’d try to pee, it was difficult, and when it finally came out, it was dark yellow. Anyone with a brain knows that’s a sign of dehydration. So I made a conscious effort to double down on my water intake. It worked well because I didn’t deal with that issue for the rest of the race.

The second problem I had to deal with wasn’t anything super odd or out of the ordinary. Just super heavy legs. I was struggling to move at the pace I needed to move at to finish the first 100 miles in under 20 hours.

patrick lloyd cape fear 24

It started to rain around 3 or 4 p.m., and the rain was consistent and steady for around 12 hours. The good news is that it was never pouring down really hard. It was just consistently light. It really actually felt quite nice at times. It certainly made some things more difficult, like dealing with wet feet and the discomfort that comes with that, but I came prepared with a hat, some sweaters, and a rain jacket that made the rain very manageable. I don’t think the rain is a good enough excuse for any shortcomings in performance at this race, as long as you were properly prepared.

Around 8:30 p.m., Wes showed up to pace and crew me. It was an absolute joy to have him with me. We talked about podcasting, race directing, running, parenting, work, and everything in between. It was so nice to have someone to keep me company. Yes, I was chatting with other runners at times while running, but those conversations typically aren’t more than 30 seconds or so. It was nice to have a friend to consistently talk with.

Around 9:30 p.m., Tony showed up to help with pacing and crewing. This allowed my dad to get some well-deserved rest in the car. Tony was also great. I really enjoyed hearing stories from his recent Bigfoot 200 finish and learning more about his squad of runners in the Raleigh area.

Wes and Tony were a lot more optimistic than I was about still getting to that sub-20-hour 100-mile goal. I told them I didn’t think I had it in me anymore. I think they were just trying to get me out of a low, encouraging me onward, saying I could still do it. I just didn’t feel like I had it in me. I’ll explain more on that later.

My goal had adjusted to: “Survive.” I was moving so slowly. Walking every step, each one more painful than the last. Aching muscles, wet and tired feet, and a crushed spirit. Just continuing to move was a win at this point.

patrick lloyd cape fear 24

Wes and Tony left around 1:30 or 2:30. After an overnight of selflessly giving their all to help me, they were right back to their homes to shower, sleep for a few hours, then get right back into being husbands and fathers. I can’t possibly thank them enough for all they did for me.

I slogged along for 90 more minutes when Andy showed up. He walked with me, and my dad (with his hurting knee after a second knee replacement) even joined us for a few loops. Andy slowly but surely encouraged me to start running (really jogging) a little bit. He would pick out small sections of maybe 50 yards to jog, and then we’d walk more. It got me warmed back up.

As we approached the 100-mile mark, Andy let me know beating my PR of 21:52 was possible, but I’d have to pick it up a little more. Andy is amazing at doing running math in his head, so he knew exactly what to do. I told him to just tell me where to run and when, and I’d follow.

We kept doing those short running sections mixed in with the walking, and the running sections would get ever so slightly longer every so often in order to keep our pace a little faster. Andy’s plan was working phenomenally.

We made it to the 100-mile mark in 21:46:04, breaking my previous PR by 6:17. Not a monster PR, but a PR is a PR, so I was very happy.

patrick lloyd andrew barrett

Before I reached the 100-mile mark, I told Andy I wanted to take a quick 10-15 minute nap once I hit 100 miles. My dad put the seats in my SUV down so I could have room to lie down. But when we hit 100 miles, I told Andy I didn’t want to nap anymore. I wanted to keep going.

I figured if I had hit a 100-mile PR, then if I kept going, I could definitely hit a 24-hour PR as well. My distance from last year was 107.7. Since we were more than six minutes ahead of last year at the 100-mile mark, I figured I could squeeze in at least one more loop to go over 108 miles.

So we kept doing the run/walk strategy. Same thing – slightly longer for each running portion every so often. We also added more running sections that were previously walking spots. These small adjustments made significant progress for us.

Here we were about 22 hours into a 24-hour race, and I was feeling amazing. Yes, my legs were still cooked and my feet were in a bad spot, but there’s something about making it that far into the race that motivates me to get moving. 143 people started the race, but by the 22-hour mark, I would guess there were maybe around 20-25 people still going. It’s cool to be able to say you were one of those people. It’s not even about speed or how far you’ve gone. It’s just that you’re still going at all. And staying in it for that long allows you to climb the leaderboard pretty steadily since people drop out earlier. For example, I was in 11th place when I hit 50 miles, but I finished in 4th. Slow and stubborn wins the race. Or gets 4th place anyway.

We broke the 107.7 mark and still had plenty of time for more loops. Andy did the math in his head and eventually figured we could push to 109.4 miles. We kept pushing, and we made it. With about two minutes left on the clock until the 24-hour mark, I crossed the line with 109.4830 miles as my final distance.

I finished as third place male, and fourth place overall out of 143 runners. Two spots better than my sixth place overall finish from last year.

I was ecstatic. After all we had been through – a nightmare hotel experience, dehydration, heavy legs, a crushed spirit (multiple times), and awful foot pain, it was all over. So rewarding. I definitely had tears in my eyes after crossing the line for the 185th and final time. If you want to experience one of the best feelings in the world, I highly recommend running 100 miles. Nothing compares to it.

patrick lloyd cape fear podcast

I’ve done some reflecting on why I couldn’t keep the sub-20-hour 100-mile pace going. My first gut instinct is to say my legs were just cooked. But anybody who is 70+ miles into a race is going to have legs that are cooked. I think I’m just not mentally tough enough to push fast enough onward when that pain kicks in. That and I think I might need more volume in training. 59 miles as a peak week is probably not enough. I think it needs to get to around 70+ potentially. All tough pills to swallow, but I am at peace knowing I did better than I did last year and finished pretty high on the leaderboard.

Recovery has gone very well. Probably better than after any other 100+ mile race I’ve done. I went back to work on Monday, 24 hours after finishing a 24-hour run. I am obviously super sore and walking slowly, but there isn’t one particular spot where I feel a ton of pain, which is a good sign. I took a nap in the car on the drive home as my dad drove, then another nap on the couch a few hours after we got home, and I slept for about nine hours.

My biggest takeaway from this race is the value of friends. When my crew plans fell through, it took less than two weeks to have an entire squad of four amazing human beings there to help me out. Two of them, Wes and Tony, are guys I met from doing my podcast. Surrounding yourself with good people is always a good thing. I am happy that my choice in friends has led to amazing moments like this. I am 100% certain I would not have PR’d in the 100-mile or in the 24-hour if my dad, Wes, Tony, and Andy weren’t there for me. They saved my race too many times to count.

My next race is on November 8. The Tampa Bay 100. I’m excited to run through my hometown. It’ll be about as different from Cape Fear as possible. It’s a point-to-point race, so you never see the same thing twice, unlike at Cape Fear, where, in my case, I saw everything 185 times.

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2025 Bigfoot 200 (Tony McDermott)