Psychoactive 2025: 26 Loops, 39 Miles, and a Hard-Earned DNF

A Last Runner Standing Race Report from Blackberry Ridge Farm

39 miles. 26 loops. 8 hours and 23 minutes. 3,406 feet of climbing. And one humbling experience.

There's something beautifully twisted about the Last Runner Standing format. You're not racing against a clock or even other runners, really. You're racing against the slow, methodical breakdown of your own body, one 1.5-mile loop at a time. And at this year's Psychoactive at Blackberry Ridge Farm in Huntersville, NC, that breakdown came with a side of brutal September heat.

The Format That Breaks You…Slowly

For those unfamiliar with Last Runner Standing events, here's the deal: everyone runs the same loop, starting together every set interval. Miss the cutoff? You're out. The twist at Psychoactive? Every five laps, they drop the time limit by a minute. Less rest. More running. The screws tighten gradually until only one remains.

This isn't your typical ultra where you disappear into the woods for hours. Every 15-20 minutes, you're back at base camp, seeing your crew, getting that quick hit of encouragement before heading back out. It's simultaneously the most social and most mentally challenging format I've encountered.

Pre-Race: Feeling Strong

Coming into Psychoactive, I felt like I was in really good endurance shape. My training had peaked at almost 80-mile weeks—territory I'd rarely explored before. The speed work was dialed. The long runs were solid. Two weeks of taper had me feeling fresh and ready to improve on last year's 51-mile result.

We had all the hydration & goodies covered: PB&Js, electrolytes, sour patch. We were set. Kassidy & Abby were ready to get started with a long day of chilling under the tent and crewing.

The weather forecast earlier in the week had looked promising. By race morning? Different story.

The Course Changes Everything

The race directors made strategic adjustments this year, adding more technical trail sections and shade coverage to combat the notorious heat. Good intentions, but with shade came elevation. With technical terrain came slower paces. What we gained in tree cover, we paid for in burning quads on unexpected climbs.

The numbers tell the story: 3,406 feet of elevation gain over 38.3 miles. That's 131 feet of climbing per loop—essentially climbing a 13-story building every 15-20 minutes.

The route winds through Blackberry Ridge Farm—gravel roads, single track trails, rolling fields, and actual grow rows of an active wildflower and produce farm. It's beautiful, varied, and just technical enough to keep you honest when fatigue sets in. But this year's course modifications turned what was already a challenging loop into a proper grind.

Miles 0-17: The "Fun" Pace

Starting at 8 AM, my brother Adam and I had a plan: stay back, walk early and often, bank energy for later. Last year, we'd pushed the pace from the start, always finishing near the front of each lap. This year would be different. Smarter.

These first 17 miles were pure fun. We were walk-running, chatting, not taking ourselves too seriously. This is where Psychoactive shows its personality. The Chicken Run lap had runners literally carrying farm chickens (we skipped it—my bicep still remembered the burn from last year). The swim cap lap (self explanatory). The beer lap where you had to finish a cold one before the loop ended. Pure shenanigans.

Our early pace reflected this festival atmosphere—averaging around 11:30 per mile, a sustainable rhythm that kept us comfortably in the middle of the pack. With the time limits starting generous and only dropping a minute every five laps, we had room to enjoy ourselves.

These are always my favorite laps of the race. We've both found distance running in the last couple of years, and races like this have become our thing. For 17 miles—nearly three hours into the race—we moved together through the increasingly oppressive heat, talking through the suffering, sharing the experience.

By 11 AM, with the sun climbing higher and the temperature pushing into dangerous territory, the party atmosphere started to shift. When Adam made the smart call to stop at mile 17, he wasn't alone—runners were dropping steadily as the morning wore on. But Adam didn't just stop—he immediately became crew captain, taking charge of my pit stops for the rest of the race.

Miles 18-30: Finding the Rhythm

In this middle part of the race, I settled into my own rhythm. Ice cubes in the hat before each loop—a new strategy that proved invaluable for managing the heat. Steady fueling. Consistent hydration with proper sodium intake (a lesson learned from past bonking experiences).

Solo on the course now, but with a three-person crew that had transformed into a well-oiled machine. Every loop became a masterclass in efficiency. As I'd cross the finish line, I'd toss my water bottle to them before even stopping. The moment I hit the chair:

• Adam with the Theragun keeping me loose

• Kassidy appearing with pickle juice and whatever snack I needed

• Abby prepping my hat with fresh ice cubes and wrapping an ice-cold towel around my neck

All of this in 45 seconds or less. Grab the refilled bottle, adjust the ice-packed hat, and back to the starting line. It was NASCAR-level precision, and in those later laps when the time limits were dropping and every second mattered, their efficiency kept me in the race.

Through the marathon mark, I still felt strong. Better than last year when I was cramping before mile 26. The nutrition strategy was working. The ice-hat system was keeping my head cool. My mind was clear. I genuinely felt like I had a lot left in the tank.

Miles 30-39: When the Wheels Come Off

Just past 32 miles, the first warning shot: a subtle spasm in my hamstring. Not a cramp, just a flutter. A reminder that the body has limits, regardless of fitness or willpower.

By mile 37.5, both quads had joined the rebellion. That last lap to 39 was a negotiation with muscles that had decided they were done. My hamstring locked into a contracted position that made even walking a challenge.

This is the cruel honesty of endurance racing—sometimes your mind writes checks your body can't cash.

The Decision

Standing at the finish of lap 26, my legs were shot. I had another race in a week. The smart call was clear, even if the competitor in me wanted to argue.

39 miles. 8th place overall. Done.

My immediate reaction was disappointment. 12 miles short of last year felt like regression. But the course had teeth this year. The finishing numbers across the board proved it. That 7:21:23 on my watch represented not just time, but survival in conditions that broke the field. I felt proud of what I was able to push through just to get to mile 39, and that set in pretty quickly after the initial dissatisfaction.

Lessons from the Farm

On Training: 80-mile weeks might need three weeks of taper, not two. My legs felt heavy from the start—a sign that high-volume training requires more recovery time than traditional marathon prep.

On Heat Management: Ice in the hat is a game-changer. Small tactical adjustments can extend your runway significantly.

On Nutrition: Finally getting sodium and hydration right meant no GI issues, no bonking—just good old-fashioned muscle failure. That's progress.

On Perspective: Two years ago, I didn't run at all. Now I'm covering 39 miles in crushing heat and calling it a learning experience. Growth isn't always linear.

Why Psychoactive Hits Different

This race is special not because of the distance or the format, but because of what it creates. Every loop brings you back to your people. Family and friends can watch from multiple vantage points. You're suffering, but you're never alone. The farm setting adds its own character—one moment you're grinding up a technical climb, the next you're running through wildflower rows with cheering spectators.

Having my wife Abby and sister Kassidy crew us, seeing other runners battle their own demons, sharing knowing nods with competitors as we passed on course—this is community forged through shared suffering.

Looking Forward

Next year, I'll be back. More rest in the taper. Better heat preparation. Maybe a few more hill repeats.

Until next year, Psychoactive. The farm—and the challenge—will be waiting.

Post-race celebration at Ghostface Brewing in Mooresville was the perfect cap to a brutal day. Pizza never tasted so good.

Final Stats:

• Distance: 39 miles (26 loops)

• Time: 8:23:29

• Elevation Gain: 3,406 feet

• Average Pace: 11:31/mile

• Place: 8th overall

• Start Time: 8:00 AM

• Finish Time: ~4:25 PM

• Calories Burned: ~5,300

• Lessons Learned: Countless

• Desire to Return: Inevitable

• Strava Link

Want to experience the beautiful suffering of Last Runner Standing? Psychoactive returns to Blackberry Ridge Farm every September. Check out Human Powered Movement for registration.