Mud, Miles, and Mental Grit

📸: Timmy Howard

Jackson County Ultras 2025: Mud, Miles & Grit

Jackson County Ultras 2025 delivered everything the hills of Jackson-Washington are known for: steep climbs, fast-fading legs, shoe-sucking mud that weighed our weary legs early on in the race, and that quiet stretch of woods where runners meet the version of themselves, they came here to find.

Runners showed up before sunrise with smiling faces and grit in their eyes, knowing full well the trails weren’t going to hand out anything easy. The mud was honest. The climbs were stubborn. And every mile demanded presence, patience, and a little bit of grit tucked in their back pocket.

The course wound through ridgelines, creek crossings, root webs, and long rolling stretches where you could finally open up your legs had anything left to give. Volunteers turned aid stations into small pockets of hope, handing out broth, encouragement, high fives, and just enough chaos to make people laugh when they wanted to cry.

For some, the day ended with a finish-line sprint. For others, it ended with a headlamp flickering on deep into the night. And for a few, the trail had other plans, but even the DNFs carried their own kind of victory, because out here, courage is measured by stepping up, not just crossing the line.

Jackson County Ultras once again proved what it always has: these woods shape people. They strip you down, build you back up, and remind you why we come seeking miles in the first place. It’s more than a race. It’s a journey into the wild edges of Southeast Indiana and into yourself.

Performances That Defined the Day

The front of the field set the tone early. From the opening ridgelines, the leaders wasted no time asserting themselves, attacking the climbs with confidence and floating the descents like they had memorized every root and rock along the course. These performances weren’t just fast; they were fearless. By mid-race, gaps began to form, and the race shifted from pack dynamics to quiet, solitary battles, athletes racing the clock while listening for the fading echoes of footsteps behind them.

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100K

Sixteen-year-old Jem Stuart delivered a performance that stopped people in their tracks, charging to the overall win with a blistering time of 11:03:30.08. Racing with maturity well beyond his years, Jem showed both patience and aggression where it mattered most, cementing his place at the top of the field.

Close behind was Rachel Shack, the first overall female and second overall, finishing in 11:10:02.96. Rachel ran with relentless composure, keeping the pressure on the lead from start to finish and proving once again that strength and consistency wins long days on tough trails.

Rounding out the podium was my pal Brian Collins, finishing third overall in a sizzling 11:26:45.51. Brian’s steady execution and late-race strength secured his spot on the podium and capped off a hard-earned performance against a stacked field.

100K Relay

The ON Your Left relay team dominated their race, taking the win with an impressive time of 9:35:11.72. Their seamless transitions and aggressive pacing showcased just how powerful teamwork can be on a demanding course.

50K

The 50K saw Zach Eagle take the top spot, setting the pace from the front and never looking back. Patrick Withered followed with a strong second-place finish, while Jude Bane locked in third, rounding out a competitive men’s podium.

On the women’s side, Mindy Jaramillo claimed first overall female, delivering a determined and well-executed race that held strong through every mile.

10 Mile

Speed ruled the day in the 10-mile race, with Gideon Broom claiming first place, followed closely by Abram Goldsberry in second. Dani Fischer led the women’s field as first overall female, putting together a fast and confident performance on the shorter but no-less-challenging course.

Jackson County 2026 didn’t teach me anything new about mileage, pacing, or grit. It taught me something far more valuable: how to stay present.

In ultras, it’s easy to live too far ahead of yourself. The mind jumps to the next aid station, the next cutoff, the next low point you know is coming. Distance becomes a weight. Miles stack up before your feet ever touch them. Before long, you’re running against the future instead of moving through the moment.

A Masterclass in Being Present

At Jackson County, I chose something different.

Instead of asking how far I still had to go, I asked one simpler question: What’s right in front of me?

The answer was always manageable. A stretch of trail. A climb. A breath. A step.

When I stayed with what was immediately in front of me, the overwhelm softened. The race stopped being something to conquer and became something to experience. I wasn’t ignoring the distance; I was refusing to let it steal my attention from the work that actually mattered.

Presence doesn’t mean pretending things aren’t hard. It means meeting the difficulty without dramatizing it. Feeling the fatigue without forecasting failure. Letting discomfort exist without assigning it a story about how the rest of the day will go.

There’s a quiet power in that.

Yours from the trail, Joe

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