2025 Uwharrie 100 (Wes Claytor)

I’ve run this race before, but this year’s Uwharrie 100 was a whole different kind of fight. Five loops, 20.5 miles each, totaling 102.5 miles and over 20,000 feet of climbing and descent. Same rugged singletrack, same roots and rocks, same quiet woods that don’t care how your training went or what time goal you had in mind. My goal going in was simple: don’t blow up my ankle like I did in 2023, and, if things went well, maybe sneak in under 30 hours.

It’s worth noting that my training block was not ideal. A nagging hip and groin issue showed up halfway through my block and forced me to scale things back more than I wanted. Less volume, less vert, less confidence. I went into race week worried that the lack of miles was going to come back to bite me.

Loops 1 & 2

The first two loops went really well. Probably too well. I moved efficiently, kept a steady effort, and soaked in the morning light filtering through the trees. The temps were a little warm, but nothing terrible. I was eating, drinking, and running smoothly. Which, of course, is exactly when you start getting cocky in a hundred.

Loop 3 – The Spiral

Somewhere around 45 miles, my stomach started to turn. I could feel the nausea increasing and I was doing everything I could mentally to try and fight it. Eventually, the nausea became too strong and I leaned to the side of the trail, using my trekking poles to support my weight as I violently released all of my stomach contents. I vomited until there was nothing left, and continued to dry heave for a few moments longer. I eventually gathered myself and continued on down the trail, but I felt terrible for the next 10 miles. The thought of dropping crept in quickly.

As I approached Kelly’s Kitchen aid station around mile 51, I was contemplating calling my race there, but when I got there, I was greeted by both of my pacers, Andy Barrett and Sonny Gerardi. As soon as I saw them, I decided I wasn’t going to drop. There was no way I could look at them and tell them, “Thanks for sacrificing your weekend to come out here and help me achieve my goal, but I don’t feel good, so I’m going to quit.” So, quitting was off the table. Time to dig deep.

I can’t recall much of what happened in the next section from Kelly’s back to start/finish, but when I wrapped up loop 3, I was dealing with some good blisters. Thankfully, my friend Cameron Martz was there and worked some foot-care magic, lancing a few toes and taping them up good.

Loop 4 – The Night Shift

Andy joined me for loop 4, and we shared some good miles in the dark. The conversations were a welcome distraction — catching up on life, laughing at old stories, swapping lessons learned from past adventures. I was still struggling, but Andy kept me moving, kept me honest, and wouldn’t let me sink too deep into self-pity. That’s what good pacers do. They don’t just keep you company; they quietly pull you out of your own head when it starts to turn against you.

Loop 5 – The Grind

Sonny took over for the final loop, and we started strong. I was motivated, optimistic, maybe even a little delusional. But a few miles in, the fatigue hit like a hammer. My body wanted to sleep more than it wanted to run. I started negotiating with Sonny for trail naps. He allowed a few, but he also knew when to say, “Alright, that’s enough, get up.”

By the time we left Kelly’s Kitchen aid station for the last time, with about ten miles to go, something shifted. Maybe it was the smell of the finish line, or maybe just the thought of being done, but we started moving with purpose. We passed five runners in that final stretch, running as many of the runnable sections as I could while fighting back tears of pain, pride, disbelief, all mixed together.

I came through the finish line after 32 hours and 36 minutes, where my wife Christa and daughter Callie were waiting and cheering. Ryan Hampton, the co-race director, handed me my buckle and gave me a big hug. And then, just like that, it was over. Another Uwharrie 100 finish.

Reflection

Full disclosure: this was the most I’ve suffered in any ultra. Or at least, it felt that way in the moment. I could blame it on the injury, the lack of training, the nutrition issues — but that’s not really the point.

This is why we run hundreds. Not because they’re easy, but because they reveal who we are when things aren’t easy. This race stripped me down, reminded me that when things fall off the rails and quitting seems like the rational choice… I still won’t quit.

I didn’t run the race I thought I wanted, but I did run the race I needed.

All photos (except the buckle) courtesy of Ruben Felix Visuals.