The Journey of Endurance: Conquering the 200-Mile Delirious West Ultra-Marathon

Embracing the Challenge: My Journey Through Delirious West

Adventure calls us in many forms, and sometimes, it nudges us toward paths we never imagined we’d take. Last year, while navigating a 100-mile race around Mount Kosciuszko, I found myself caught in a lightning storm. Sheltering with a fellow runner, I learned about an extraordinary race in Western Australia—Delirious West, a grueling 200-mile run that could change my understanding of endurance. “You must do it!” she urged. “The food is incredible, and people share disgusting pictures of their toes afterwards.” Intrigued, I knew I had to take on this challenge.

Why Run 200 Miles?

For me, it’s all about the adventure—the chance to discover more about myself. Ultra marathons, defined as any distance longer than the traditional 42 km marathon, are gaining popularity globally. While many are drawn to distances like 50 km or 100 km, only a niche group dares to tackle the formidable 200-mile challenge. An ordinary marathon might take 3 to 4 hours, while finishing 100 km can stretch to about 15 hours. A 200-mile race, however, requires over 100 hours of relentless movement.

In Australia, this journey took form through events like Irrational South, Unreasonable East, and Delirious West. This year, Delirious West stood alone, beckoning runners eager to test their limits.

The Race Format

Set along the breathtaking Bibbulmun Track from Northcliffe to Albany, participants would encounter approximately 20 aid stations, with four designated as sleep stations. Most runners attempt to catch at least a couple of hours of sleep each night, while others push through on virtually none, juggling hiking and running to maintain momentum. The only surefire strategy? Keep moving forward.

Having heard from past participants that consistency was key, I trained throughout the first months of 2025, logging about 120 km weekly. My regimen included five to six hour-long runs atop a challenging 400 m hill along the Yarra River in Melbourne, often beginning at the crack of dawn.

The Countdown Begins

We gathered on a Wednesday morning at the Giant Tingle Tree, surrounded by towering gum trees. As the start time approached, nerves bubbled among us. Runners rechecked their gear, adjusted backpacks, and exchanged anxious good lucks. I focused on my first goal: simply reach the first aid station.

At 10 am, we surged forward, embraced by cheers and encouragement. The initial 100 km took us through dense, humid forests, beach dunes, and coastal scrub. Although the terrain wasn’t dramatically hilly, the sandy paths demanded stamina. I found camaraderie with fellow runners, sharing laughs as we pressed on.

The Sleep Stations and Dirt Naps

After roughly 18 hours, I arrived at the first sleep station, just before dawn on Thursday. Sleep eluded me, but the delicious waffles were a comforting reward. I attempted “dirt naps” in the next stretch, laying among nature with a laminated sign, “Please don’t disturb, I’m having a dirt nap.” Yet, rest continued to evade me.

Nevertheless, even brief breaks helped reinvigorate me, and I found a steady pace as I approached the magnificent Tree Tops—home to some of Australia’s tallest trees.

Shifting Landscapes and Midway Marvels

Moving beyond Tree Tops, the landscape morphed from forests to farmland and eventually returned to the ocean at Conspicuous Cliffs. Here, I reached the halfway mark, savoring a tranquil moonlit beach before hitching a ride on a jetski across an estuary to continue my journey.

By the second night, I reached an aid station at Peaceful Bay. Exhausted, I sprawled on a camp bed and finally succumbed to sleep for a much-needed respite. With renewed energy, I darted back onto the trails post-nap, thriving as I embraced the euphoric flow of movement.

The Third Night and Hallucinations

As I entered my third night, reality began to blur. I encountered coastal paths woven with giant spider webs; the sensation of spiders crawling across my shoulders sent chills down my spine. The ground teemed with tiny frogs, and I fought the urge to avoid stepping on any while grappling with visions of robots along the path.

Awash in fatigue, I began questioning my purpose—was I racing, or merely surveying the trails? The sensible choice would’ve been to rest, but instinct drove me to keep running.

Hitting a Wall

With just 20 km to go, I crashed into a wall, having been on the path for approximately 64 hours. I experienced an out-of-body moment, where I could see my weary self trudging along. It was as if two parts of me were at war—yet my “voice of reason” pierced through the fog. I broke down the remaining distance into manageable 100-meter segments, always affirming I could carry on.

Crossing the Finish Line

Finally, as I stumbled into Albany at 7:45 am—nearly three days after I embarked on this wild journey—I felt a rush of accomplishment. I crossed the finish line with a time of 69 hours, earning third place.

Completing Delirious West taught me invaluable lessons about resilience and self-discovery. It was an adventure like no other, physically and mentally exhilarating. And indeed, the toe photos were as grotesque as promised—a testament to the journey I had survived.

In the end, pushing the limits of endurance wasn’t just about the run; it was about uncovering the depths of my spirit.