Taking on the Istria 100 by UTMB

A crew’s look into the race

Prologue

In November of last year, Katie was in search of her next running challenge - A goal race for 2025 that was something a little extra from the ones that she had done before. She mentioned that our friends Corey and Nicole Ross were heading to Croatia for the Istria 110 by Ultra-Trail du Mont-Blanc (better known as UTMB, the largest sanctioning body for international events of this type), and that she was considering getting on board. Though she had done Ultras before, this would be her first by UTMB, and combined with the intrigue of travel to a new part of the world, it was hard to resist signing up for this race. When friends Sarah Lamos and her partner James Duffley jumped on board, it was final, Katie had found the epic that she was after.

I immediately knew that I wanted to be there to see Katie take on the race. I refused to miss her take on something of this magnitude. A race of this distance is a life defining accomplishment that embodies mental fortitude and perseverance beyond what most people ever endure, let alone are capable of. I wanted to be able to support her in achieving her goals, and make sure that she could focus on her experience with as little distraction or stress as possible.

Nervously, Katie accepted me being her crew. Though no stranger to the concept of trail running, it wasn’t until I started dating Katie that I became an active (albeit very leisurely) participant, and through her I’ve learned so much about the sport and its incredibly supportive community, as well as the massive undertaking involved in the preparation for these types of events. Therefore, Katie’s apprehension of my voluntary commitment was understandable - being a runner’s crew isn’t just about cheering someone on, it's much more than that; you are their lifeline. It is your job to ensure that your runner is well nourished, hydrated, and that they have everything that they need in order to be successful. It is also knowing the right words to encourage them, how to listen when they are past their breaking point and just need to frustratedly rant to you, and, most importantly, knowing how to remind them of how incredible they are when they need it (and they will).

As Katie’s partner, I did have some advantages in that regard. Aside from the obvious emotional aspect of wanting her to succeed, I was also able to take an interest in her training over the winter, and learn her dietary habits. Eating is not easy when your body is the most tired it’s ever been, so I needed to be aware of what would work for her, and (perhaps more importantly) what wouldn’t. Although this was to be her longest ever distance, she could still rely on her past experiences to help herself, and by virtue, me, ensure that she would be well fed throughout the day.

Even though Katie was my primary focus, I knew that as the only non-runner in our group (the Istria Wolf Pack, as we now call ourselves) any help that I could also provide to the others would go a long way in giving them some mental and physical respite, too.

While I am no stranger to sport and the intensity surrounding it, I knew that I had to learn a lot before we arrived in Istria. I knew that I needed to be invested, and integrate myself into Katie’s race, not just be a spectator to it - though, as per this blog, I did very much want to be that, as well…

I knew that I wanted to document the race the best way that I knew how, so that Katie could look back on it years from now and be able to feel the experience and, hopefully, relive it through the images. With my camera, I set out to do exactly that; to capture the race so that Katie, Sarah, Nicole, James, and Corey can reexperience it for years to come, and appreciate it at a leisurely, less exhausting pace. It might seem silly to try and crew five runners while also trying to get as many encompassing photos as possible, but I genuinely feel that one helped the other, in this case. By seeking out sections of trail, and witnessing it through my lens with acute awareness, it gave me greater appreciation for the terrain and the challenges that the competitors were faced with, and kept me sharp all day as I ventured the course whilst keeping schedule with the group.

I hope this blog allows you to experience it in a similar way, too.

Enjoy,

Matt.

The Arrival

Umag

Arriving in Umag was like being thrust into a real life Zwift universe, with hundreds of runners shaking out their travel in preparation for the race, and an almost equal number of road cyclists stopping for coffee at the local cafes during their endurance rides. There was a sense of belonging and purpose that accompanied a nervous anticipation - a beckoning significance on the horizon that erased any doubts of commitment; there was no more second guessing, and no more kidding yourself about what you signed up for. While the race was still to be run, all you could do now was double down in the belief that you’d done enough during your training block, and that you were ready; that you could accomplish what you set out to do.

Race Start

Buzet to Buzet

Phase 1

The yellow hues of the sun rise over Buzet may have seemed similar to the calming sunset in Umag the night before, but the mood could not have felt more different. A heavy sense of suspense loomed in the burning fog and brisk morning air. Katie and the gang were up at 3:45am for their 5am shuttles that took them to Buzet for the 7am race start. I set off in our rented cargo van to join them not long after (shoutout to Benussi, the Renault Trafic that was shockingly good to drive for what it was). Having trained through a Canadian winter, the race was about to throw its first challenge at the gang… April air meant that jackets were in order while waiting to start, but the predicted temps of ~15C for the day were surpassed by a blazing 24C, amplified by huge exposure on some of the highest peaks in Croatia. Hydration, sun protection, and being able to layer were going to be hugely important.

In some ways, the race is a victory lap. The commitment to training is immense, and takes a lot of discipline. Although there are so many variables to the race itself, it is important to enjoy it, knowing that you’ve worked so hard to be here. Even more so for the Wolf Pack, who constantly pushed each other on throughout their training.

The buildup and mayhem before the start led to an odd crescendo of silence that seemed unsettling. What was momentarily the center of the trail running universe was suddenly abandoned, as the horde of runners stampeded their way out onto the course. Having collected jackets and outer layers from the gang, I returned to the van, and while I thought about closing my eyes for a moment, I decided instead to immediately seek out a coffee while I double checked my navigation for the day.

With a 42km loop to run from the start back to the aid station in Buzet (the first aid station that allowed outside assistance), I knew this would be the best time to position myself to get some photos of the race. Crew were asked not to visit the first two aid stations on the initial loop due to the small mountain roads and the potential for traffic related incidents, so I needed to find something to do in the interim. The high alpine plateau of Zbevnica had piqued my interest, and I would head counter race in that direction, first, in order to get the lay of the land. Knowing that Katie would murder me if I wasn’t waiting or was late to the aid station, I made sure to plan very carefully, and even drove the route twice just to be absolutely sure I would be able to get back to Buzet in time. At the very least, even if I didn’t have time to make it to the summit, there would be some stunning views along the way, and the ruggedness of the descent promised to showcase the technical nature of the terrain.

The views were fantastic, and while I wouldn’t have sufficient time to make it to the summit of Zbevnica, I found a spot that captured the race perfectly - Cascading rock faces, large boulder steps, and an extremely loose surface characterised the trail. I saw dozens of runners slip out or struggle to catch themselves as they traversed what was said to be one of the hardest sections of the course.

Unfortunately, I didn’t have time to stick around for the others (I would catch up with them at the aid station), as I wanted to head down to another spot I’d scouted to try and see Katie again, and then head straight to Buzet.

Standing trail side with my full bodied D810 and 70-200mm lens gave people the impression that I was an official race photographer. I have HUNDREDS of photos of people posing, flexing, jumping, and even falling while trying to do so. I almost felt guilty thinking that someone may fall and not be able to continue because they were trying to get their photo taken by someone who was not actually a race photographer. Still, I took their photos for two reasons: one, I was getting set up to catch good photos of the SJTR gang and wanted to test framing, and two, it felt rude not to… Imagine thinking “oh, there’s the photogr… Wait, why didn’t he take my photo? I want photos of the race!”

Luckily, the posing made for some hilarious stories for me to share with the gang after the race, and I actually did get some fantastic photos of other runners, as well, which I plan to send to UTMB when I find the time.

Apparently I underestimated how quickly the runners would descend the top section… I was attempting to get inside the tree line to a gnarly rock garden where I assumed I would have ample time to wait for Katie, but she had already emerged into the field beyond that point as I was arriving. Had she gone by a moment sooner, I may have missed her and not noticed. This could have been a disaster if I was late to the aid station due to not realizing.

Buzet Aid Station

With the group still fairly close to one another at this point, and this being my first time on deck, I didn’t take any photos of the gang here. I wanted to be sharp, and make sure that they were my priority amidst the chaos of the busiest aid station in the race.

When I got to the aid station in Buzet, Corey had already arrived, and I only had a quick second to check in with him before he got back underway. I knew that Corey was going to be strong in the early stages of the race, which was evident when I saw him in the foothills above, so I was less worried about crewing for him at this stop than I was for the others. Still, I was glad to be able to at least be there in case he did need anything, and being this far from home I’m sure it was nice to at least have a familiar face in his corner. Corey didn’t even bother to retrieve his drop bag in Buzet, as he didn’t want to spend too much time stationary, and only focused on the essentials before leaving.

As soon as Corey left I got to work on preparing Katie a space to eat. I grabbed her drop bag at the pick up table, and swooped into an open spot to lay out her kit. She had already let me know when she passed me earlier that she was going to swap shoes, so I laid out fresh socks, her Hoka’s, blister bandaids, and a stick of body glide. Once I marked her territory, I went outside to run the final steps to the aid station with her so that she didn’t have to look for me inside, and could immediately focus on resting and resetting.

While Katie bopped to Pink Pony Club on my cell phone (shout-out to Kaylee for the idea), I filled her flasks, and made sure she got as many potatoes into her as she could. After a quick hug, I wished her luck, and she departed for what (unknowingly) would be the toughest leg of the race.

Nicole arrived next, and while I filled her flasks and grabbed her some Naak (anything but the watermelon, I’ve learned… from everyone… many times), she gobbled some gnocchi and repacked her vest. She was calm, cool, and level headed, which seems to be her approach to races. Sarah and James came in just after, and joined Nicole briefly before the former got back to the trail.

After a quick pow-wow with the final two, all five runners were back underway and heading toward Butoniga, and then to Livade, where I would meet them again.

The Ides of the Run

Buzet to Livade

Phase 2

In my attempt to encourage the group at the aid station in Buzet, I made my first rookie error of crewing; I told each of them that the primary elevation for the race was behind them, and that they only had smaller ascents from here on out. Unfortunately, that was only partially true… While the peak elevation of the course (Zbevnica) was done, the next section from Buzet to Butoniga actually had the highest combined elevation of any stint, with 700+ meters over 16km, which I failed to notice on the course itinerary. This meant that it had both a steep grade of climbing and descending with no time to rest in between that would fatigue the body. To make matters worse, the temperature was at its highest… According to everyone on the team, this stage was the crux of the race.

While Butoniga was not an assisted aid station, I had marked it as a place of interest for photos due to the large dammed reservoir, and thought I’d check it out to see how it looked in person.

It was fortunate that I did, as I think Katie was relieved to have me there for mental support, having suffered in the last section…

It’s worth noting that because Butoniga was a non-assisted aid station, crew was not allowed inside. I had to watch from the barricade, and UTMB was so serious about enforcing this rule that even when Katie came over to see me, an official stood next to us to make sure that I did not interact with her beyond chatting. In some ways, I think this level of professionalism was motivating; for Katie, this was the big leagues!

Livade Aid Station

After leaving Butoniga, I quickly made my way to Livade (the truffle capital of the world) to meet Corey, whose arrival was imminent. His pace was strong all day, and he hinted before the race that he had a lofty goal, so I wanted to make sure I was there this time to ensure that he was not pushing too hard, and staying on top of his nutrition.

I was told (warned, even) that Corey sometimes didn’t take proper rest or fuel on board at aid stations in an effort to make up positions and time on others. As such, I tried to slow him down in subtle ways, such as offering to fill his flasks (and then doing so at a leisurely pace), or asking him questions about his race and updating him about the others. However, Corey was dead focused, and seemed to be very alert and determined each time that I saw him throughout the day.

He spent just enough time to fuel, repack, and get back on the trail. He gave up no unnecessary time by being consistent with hydration both on course, and in the aid stations. It was very clear that he had planned properly with a goal of improving on that for this race.

With the sun setting,  Katie arrived in Livade in much better spirits than when I last saw her in Butoniga. I had all of her belongings and essentials laid out in the corner of the aid station so that she could sort her kit, and I could move on to filling her flasks, grabbing her Naak, and whatever other snacks she desired. She wanted me to be very strict with her about finishing her water during each stint, and so far she had done a good job of going through the 1.5L that she carried with her between aid stations.

Arriving in Livade before Sunset was perfect for Katie, as it meant she could have a quick costume change into a drier top before the temps dropped. While the shirt obviously wouldn’t stay dry for long, nothing beats the feeling of a fresh top after 74km of sweat.

Once Katie was on her way, it dawned on me that in my efforts to keep the others hydrated and fed, I’d completely neglected my own nutritional needs. Thankfully, there was a local Istrian restaurant across from the aid station, and with Nicole not expected to arrive for a while, I popped over and sat myself down for a meal. Not to get too off topic, but this place was perfect; a husband and wife dining room that was very much a staple of the tiny town. Livade has a population of 160, and yet this place was absolutely packed with locals, both on the day of the race and the following day when we went back, again (the coffee was so good that I had to take Katie there on her much needed rest day).

After my meal, I went back across the street to the aid station. Using the Live Trail app, I was able to track each of the runners, so I knew that Nicole was now due within the next 30 minutes. While the app was very useful, it wasn’t without issue, as it relied on the GPS on each runner's cell phone to send out data. Not only did the signal vary as they dipped through the undulating landscape of Istria, but in order to preserve battery some runners were using airplane mode on their phones. Therefore, I didn’t actually know where Sarah and James were at this point, as their tracking glitched in the first leg of the race.

I realized that Corey might be approaching the finish line at a similar time to when the others would be arriving at the aid station. With that in mind, I asked Katie which I should prioritize; greeting a runner at the finish line, or staying to aid the others in Livade. She felt that having someone at the finish line was important in order to make sure that someone was there to congratulate them, and to make sure that they didn’t crash from an adrenaline release once finished. With every passing moment, I knew that I was getting closer to needing to make that decision, but I didn’t want to leave the others in case I absolutely needed to.  

The headlamps from the many runners that approached in the night made it almost impossible to identify anyone from a distance. I knew that Nicole was wearing the provided Istria jersey with white sleeves, and lilac shorts, so when the tracker said she was close, I began anxiously trying to spot her. Eventually, behind two other runners, I spotted what I thought could be her, and called out “is that Nicole Ross I see?”

To my delight, a male voice responded “It’s James, and Sarah, as well!”

With the three of them together, I knew I had nothing to worry about. Their combined experience is vast, and there was absolutely no chance that any of them would leave someone behind.

I loaded up their flasks, and gave them their drop bags that I had retrieved in Buzet in case they wanted to swap anything before heading into the late hours of the night. A few high fives, and they were quickly on their way.

The Finish

Livade to Umag

Phase 3

Having stayed to crew the others in Livade, Corey was now desperately close to the finish, and I was going to have to hurry if I wanted to be there to greet him when he crossed the line. I grabbed the drop bags, my camera gear, and quickly tossed it all into the van... I don’t care to tell you how fast I drove getting from Livade to Umag, but let’s just say I used all of my motorsport background, and was very impressed that a cargo van could comfortably take a roundabout on two wheels! Astonishingly, Croatia is the only country of the three that we visited that haven't sent me a ticket in the mail, so far (damn speed cameras)...

I got to Umag, parked, and rushed to the town square where the race would conclude. Although the shop fronts and alleys were well lit along the course, Umag was quiet and still, and there were only a handful of people gathered around the corral watching as various runners trickled in. Immediately, I understood why Katie said I should prioritize being at the finish line for Corey… I felt empathetic toward the runners coming in without anyone to cheer for the almost superhuman feat that they had just accomplished. While I’m sure that to many runners the finish line is affirmation enough, and the race is an intrapersonal achievement, I still made a point to applaud each of them as I waited for Corey.

That said, not all of them may have finished entirely alone. Many people were following along at home and supporting them from afar through updates from the app, as well as getting updates from the race itself (something I also tried to provide throughout the day on my instagram). Although UTMB (oddly) did not have their standard finish line live stream running for this race, Will managed to find the live feed from the Umag town camera so that he and Mila could watch the finish from home. His only concern was that he couldn’t tell if it was actually live, or had a significant delay…

With Corey’s projected arrival still a few minutes away, I left the finish corral so that I could wave to the camera in order to see how delayed it was on Will and Mila’s end. Once I waved, my phone buzzed in my pocket, and when I pulled it out to answer what I thought was a message from Will, I instead had a message from the Live Trail app that read “UPDATE: Corey Ross, Arrived: Finish line.”

Yup… After blazing across Croatia at mach turkey in a rented cargo van in order to make absolutely sure that I would be there for Corey at the finish, he sprinted in during the only 10 seconds that I looked away…

Corey finished with a race time of 15:58:46 in 96th position, JUST beating his stretch goal of under 16 hours, which is why he arrived so much sooner than expected; he averaged his fastest split time of the entire race in the final stint, running a 7:15/km time in order to beat his goal. While I was warned of past Corey horrors, such as collapsing at the finish line of QMT in 2024 due to not fueling properly and over exerting himself, it was evident that Corey had made a point of addressing those issues, and in Istria, it all came together for him.

After a quick decompression, and an attempt at rest, Corey and I both went down to the finish line to greet Katie, who had texted me from the final aid station in Buje to let me know that she would see me soon. This was the first time that she texted me all day, so I knew that she was either really excited and feeling good, or just needed to get in touch for a little reassurance. Either way, I knew that she only had one short stint of 14.7km to go. With my eye locked on the tracker and constantly updating people at home who were asking me how she was doing, Corey and I made our way to finish to be there when she ran in.

By now the temperature had dropped back down into the single digits, and many runners had dug their jackets out of their packs and put them on. Being sweaty and (in most cases) sunburnt, getting cold while also battling exhaustion could easily throw your body off in the late stages of the race. I knew that Katie would have hers on, so I anxiously kept trying to spot it as she arrived at the final corner toward the mat. I was so eager to greet her with open arms that I only got one photo of her on the way in. It was more important to live in the moment with her, and celebrate what she had accomplished.

As Katie rounded the final corner, I snapped the shot, sat my camera down and waited a few steps back from the finish line in complete admiration as she took her final steps in the race. I wanted to be close enough to celebrate with her, but not so close as to take away from her moment. Afterall, it was Katie who had worked so tirelessly through the darkest and coldest parts of the year when most of us were hibernating under blankets and indoors. She did it with dignity and refined discipline in order to prepare for this, her first race distance of over 100km. I was so incredibly proud to see her finish, and while I’d like to think that I was a small part of her success, it was her who did the hardest parts.

“I did it!” she said, in an upbeat and almost playful tone that indicated a level of pride whilst not betraying her modesty, nor indicated any sense of self doubt. It was as if in one single and simple phrase she conveyed both appreciation and gratitude for her existence in the moment. She acknowledged more than just the race; she acknowledged the sacrifice, commitment, and mental battles that she had to overcome both on the day, and the months leading up to this exact instance. As we hugged (a hug that was slightly delayed in order for Katie to stop her Strava), I was both in awe and humbled by watching Katie do something that seems almost impossible.

Katie’s finishing time was 18:11:50, in 178th position (28th for female), which was over 40 minutes faster than her predicted time from the UTMB index before the race. In other words, not only did she beat the “goal” she had said to the group publicly, but she also smashed the goal that she had kept to herself, quietly, as well.

As Katie stumbled and struggled up the stairs to the third floor apartment, the three of us attempted to get some rest before the other half of the Wolf Pack were scheduled to arrive. Rest doesn’t come easy after running for so long, however, and Katie and Corey’s bodies refused to be still in spite of their intense exhaustion. Perhaps it shows how accustomed the body becomes to an almost subconscious will that, in Katie’s case, her legs could not stop running  as she lay beside me agonizingly desperate to get an ounce of sleep…

Umag was lifeless, and silent as we sauntered back to the finishing corral. The cobblestone corridors that we had frequented to cafes and bakeries on the days before the race were still lit, and now functioned as a distant beacon of light to runners still willing themselves step by step through the dark toward the town. At just after half past five in morning the stillness was accompanied by the sweat sodden syncopation of three more runners, lock-step, as they approached the UTMB gantry. Sarah, James, and Nicole arrived as a team, and were all smiles. As a trio, they had run all but a small portion of the race together, combining a wealth of experience and knowledge to guarantee their arrival.

As they approached the mat, you could sense an equal level of excitement from both Katie and Corey. Seeing the rest of the team finish was as rewarding for them as finishing their own race, and there was a genuine bond of support for each other as they all hugged inside of the finishing area. They’d all achieved something that, to many, is unfathomable; Something that takes a lifestyle committed to long days, months, and years to arrive at this point… And more importantly, a self-belief that doesn’t waver.

In a race that had a 1 in 4 DNF rate, all five members of the Wolf Pack were finishers of the Istria 110. An incredible result that was worth celebrating, and highlighted their level of preparedness.

Crewing was an incredible experience that I was proud to be a part of, and I will never forget. I witnessed a full spectrum of emotion from so many runners that day; from suffering, to sobbing (and, in one case, even celebrating) over their inability to finish the challenge in spite of everything they’d put into it, to perseverance and determination. I even saw a few runners hallucinating (psst, Katie…)! I was absolutely enamored by it. I gained the utmost respect for everyone involved, and I admire their commitment to something so challenging.