Giving up isn’t a shameful thing in the Wausau Limitless race, in fact, it’s the finish line. This unique, torturous race sees participants run a 4.167 mile course every hour, on the hour, until only one participant remains. It lasts for over 24 hours, sometimes closer to 48 hours, totaling up to 150-160 miles of running for the winner.
“Really it comes down to what two people are willing to do, basically,” said race founder Jacob Daul. “Participants join Limitless for a couple different reasons; some just do it because they’re scared and it’s like okay let’s see how far we can go.”
The Limitless race was started in 2020 at Sylvan Hill Park, where the sixth annual event begins on Friday, May 1. For the hundreds of runners who have participated since 2020, the physical toll is immense, but the most impressive battle is fought entirely inside their heads.
“They’re all fantastic athletes with strong legs, but when it comes down to it, they have some of the strongest minds,” Daul said.
On paper, the math sounds deceptive. To complete 4.167 miles in an hour requires a modest 14-minute mile pace. For a seasoned trail runner, that almost sounds leisurely. But the format can present a psychological trap. In a traditional ultra-marathon, runners can speed up to “bank time” and give themselves a nice buffer to rest, eat a meal, replace socks or pierce painful blisters (as Rocky Balboa would say, “cut me, Mick”). But in the Limitless format, runners aren’t racing against each other or racing a distance, they’re racing against time.
If a runner hits a wall and completes a lap in just under an hour, they’re left with only a few minutes to go the bathroom, tend to their aches and pains, swallow some calories (often only to have them come back up minutes later) — much lest find a minute to sit and rest — and drag themselves back into the starting corral before the hour strikes. If they aren’t in that corral when the bell rings, their race is over. There is zero margin for error and runners are forced to make tough decisions: do I go to the bathroom or get some water? Do I change my socks or get something to eat? As the race drags on, runners are left with less time and fewer options in this waking nightmare.
“If you find yourself in a bind and you come in at 57 minutes, you have three minutes to figure that out and you have to get back out there otherwise you’re out of the race,” Daul said. “There’s so little time for mistakes.”
The secret to lasting into Saturday morning, Daul noted, isn’t steeling one’s mind for grueling stint of the next 24 hours. It’s actually about ignoring the impossibly long road ahead, tuning out the exhaustion, and finding the sheer willpower to survive just one more mile in the seemingly never-ending loop around Sylvan Hill Park. To make things even more difficult, that mental grind only compounds after the sun sets.
“Repeating the same course over and over and over again requires so much mental strength and for some people that’s really their strong suit. They like monotony,” Daul said. “But it’s a real struggle for other people to just do the same thing over and over again, especially when you get to the night where it just all turns into a blur.”
For the runners who make it through the long dark (often cool) night, there is hope and support come morning. Just as runners are preparing for their 24th circuit, marking 100 miles in 24 hours, the base camp is filled with a crowd of fresh supporters, gearing up for two relatively short races: the one-loop Solo and the two-lap Double events starting at 9:30 a.m. on Saturday.
“It’s a neat way to have a big group of people there to celebrate those Limitless racers hitting a big milestone of 100 miles and I think it really puts a jolt of energy into them and what they’re about to accomplish,” Daul said.
“They can help cheer everybody on and it just brings a whole new dimension to those runners who have been running all night,” said Chad Esker, one of the race organizers.”
The Solo and Double events are also something of a proving ground that exposes newer runners, or runners with no endurance experience, to the Limitless race. Many become intrigued by the uncommon race format and are persuaded to test their mettle in a future Limitless race.
“We’ve had many people that have done the Solo or the Double and the next year, or years later, they do Limitless and we’ve found tremendous success through people doing that,” Daul said. “People didn’t realize their potential for running and they’ve done very good in Limitless, far exceeding what they thought they could ever do.”
Everyone responds differently and hits a wall at some point. For many, that first wall, whether it’s after three hours or 30 hours, does not represent the end of their potential. Getting over that first wall is a mental victory that will reinvigorate them and propel them far beyond that first critical obstacle — sometimes all the way to victory.
One of the most inspiring moments Esker remembers happened during the 2023 Limitless race, when competitor Korey Konietzk, from Mosinee, completed his 120th mile early Saturday afternoon.
“Korey came up and he had about 30 seconds left to spare before he had to take off again. It was down to him and another local guy, Kevin [Jacks]. We’re friends with both of them.” Esker said.
With 30 seconds to spare before the next lap, Korey’s friends came out, and, with the efficiency of a Formula 1 pit crew, did everything they could to get their man prepared to hit the track in just a few seconds.
“They literally topped off his water, gave him some nutrition and had him standing at the start-finish line. He didn’t even get to sit down,” Esker said. “He took off and he pulled through another loop, and then did another loop, and another loop, and then all of a sudden the tables completely turned and Kevin was struggling. Prior to that, Kevin was looking okay. Cory ended up winning it, but we thought for sure that was it.”
“You get to a point where you feel like that is it, but it’s hardly ever actually it yet,” said Daul. “When they go past that, that’s when they become a whole ‘nother athlete — and you can see it.”
Whether you’re running only 4.167 miles, 8.334 miles or up to 160 miles, the Sylvan Hill course is not to be underestimated. Past participants will tell you it’s not just about the distance. It’s a grueling circuit that demands roughly 600 feet of climbing — nearly the equivalent of hiking up Rib Mountain — every single hour. Doing that once is a solid workout that will wind a regular 5K runner; repeating it into the dead of night requires an unnatural (but not impossible) tolerance for monotony and pain.
“You see [participants] with their socks off and their feet are just destroyed,” Daul said. “You know how painful a little blister can be and you see the pads of their feet are just ready to fall off and they’re going through so much pain and they’re able to just put that aside, focus on the task and go out there and do it again.”
When a runner finally decides to call it quits, there is a DNF (“did not finish”) Bell at the base camp, beside the corral. When a runner taps out, they ring the bell. But it’s not a sad moment. In fact, it’s often met with applause from the crowd, acknowledging the physical distance and mental obstacles the runner has accomplished.
Instead of going home in defeat, the former runner immediately transitions into the support crew. Many stay at the Sylvan Hill base camp — sometimes for days — sharing their food, tips and energy to cheer on the very people who outlasted them.
“A really common theme amongst almost all participants is they tend to leave their ego at the start line,” Daul said.
“They share secrets,” Esker added. “They’ll give people their tips, they’ll do whatever they can to help other people. That’s what’s neat about it. You’ll see people running to each other’s tents and asking do you have this or do you have that and people are sharing supplies. It’s a really cool experience.”
“Your walls come down and you build a relationship really fast in that type of atmosphere,” Daul said. “Many of these people that started the day as strangers, we can look ahead two, three, five years and you’ll see their families go on vacations together. They will go across the country and do races together.”
The punishing format of the Limitless race gives participants the opportunity to safely test their limits and sometimes forge resilient bonds through a shared, grueling experience. The race is designed to break runners down and push them beyond what they thought was possible. But when a runner finally gives in and rings the DNF bell, they don’t walk away defeated. They walk away as part of a new family — one that will be waiting at Sylvan Hill next May to build them right back up again.
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