farley's 180.000 steps to become a first.

every utmb finisher carries a story over that famous finish line. most of those stories never get told. farley is a friend and investor of 4T2 but more importantly, someone with high octane positive energy and ambition; he wanted to become the first utmb finisher from curacao. spoiler alert.. of course he did but we just love how farley describes his 174km, 10.000m vert utmb race. this is a must read for the non-ultra runner too because farley writes so beautifully. enjoy and please follow farley and his 'run far trail running community' on socials (find them at the bottom of this breathtaking story).

hugs from the team.

the dream.

UTMB is one of those events that start as a dream. You don’t just enroll and run. Human-made, marketing-made, or truly-special or not, UTMB finds itself in a conversation inside every trail running journal, podcast, YT video, or running book.

The bait are runners that want the pinnacle of adventure. A runnable and competitive race, across 3 countries we all deem as a dream visit, deep in the most beautiful mountains of Europe, spending 2 sleepless nights around running junkies, and a lot of sugar to consume. The dream of every kid that likes to play outdoors. Also kids don’t realise that there is a playing limit where spending more time is only miserable.

It’s something you only find out during an event like UTMB. But it’s really not all bad. I BADly wanted to do UTMB since I identified myself as a ‘runner’. I dislike big commercial events for the longest time, but this just felt different.

In 2020, I went from a student addicted to studying, volunteering, consultancy jobs, to someone desperately in need for freedom. I am meant to feel free, and nature has always provided me that space. So I read “The Rise of the Ultra Runners: A Journey to the Edge of Human Endurance” by A. Finn, and that changed everything for me. I ran marathons, moved to Chile for exchange to mostly spend time in mountains and do cross-country. It was a blast.

See, I come from Curacao, an island that barely suffices an ultra distance being 60 km long and the highest peak 375m (Christoffelberg), and then I moved to the Netherlands, a flat country with an even smaller peak (250m?).

So when I moved back to the Netherlands, I didn’t know how to start this ultra running journey. And that changed, unexpectedly. I was cycling to Europe’s largest outdoor skatepark, from the Netherlands to Luxembourg, and in the middle of nowhere, there is what I thought was a springbok jumping fluidly with yet with clear fatigue in his legs. I dared to ask if he was an ‘ultra-runner’, and he was. “So how do I start?”, and his answer, changed everything, “just start”. It took me another year, but I started running ultras in 2024.

the training.

Training for UTMB is difficult in itself. Can you ever prepare for 174 km with 10.000m elevation gain? Can you?? Also, how can you train in flat terrain. Flat kilometers don’t share the gravity coefficients felt when running uphill. That’s where everything pushed me to think harder.

Next to a FT job, I joined Trail.nl and learnt everything there is to know about nutrition & gear. Dirk, the owner, guided me deeply through the trail running world. I met Jan Dirk who explained how he devoted his life to trail running. I met Shaun, a guy just like me with an ultra dream but hampered by a FT-job, just like mine (it’s not unique, but it felt unique)! And, I became close friends with a guy sharing the same intense passion for this as me, Diogo Martins, and almost weekly talked about training plans.

I got a book from another friend, Tom Biermann, on how “Training for the Uphill Athlete” by S. Johnston, K. Jornet, S. House. Funny enough, both these close friends I met during an ultra race. You are spending so much time with your thoughts that only a good conversation during this intensity becomes better than spending another minute with your mind. I am grateful for having met Diogo, Dirk, JD, Shaun, Tom, cause otherwise I would be at the start of UTMB with no strength training, no nutrition plan, and my last long run being 20 km. Plain stupid. Doesn’t mean training was straightforward. I made every mistake possible. I ruptured my hamstring by overdoing it in 2025, I had overused tendons, and then in October 2025 I had a stress fracture. It was enough, we switched approaches.

When in January 2026 I heard I got into UTMB I knew the solution is not training more, but training smarter, resting harder. I dove into treadmill sessions where I would spend 1-3 hours running uphill. I ran almost daily and focused on a minimum of 75km and a maximum of 150 km. I committed to longer trips to get some real trails (like the N70 in Nijmegen). We showed up, daily, but sometimes more than others. I knew that to avoid injuries, I should keep it fun. So yeah, I went to a good party every now and then, and played way too much spikeball. But, this was what kept me sane going into something insane. A regular week had one focus: MUSCULAR ENDURANCE. Look it up, and that’s the secret to Tom Evans winning in 2025. So after my training, I will win, right? Who cares, but it prepared me!

A regular week in the final weeks of training went like:

Monday 15 km intervals with Running Late Club Amsterdam

Tuesday mo: stairmaster/treadmill 1 hr, cycle to work 35 km, ev: easy run 20 km with Running Junkies Amsterdam.

Wednesday mo: 6-8x5min @8% incline Heart Rate Z4, ev: 6-15 km easy run

Thursday: 20 km easy

Friday: 10-20 km easy // stairmaster

Saturday: 30-50 km in the trails

Sunday: strength and 10-15 km easy.

There you go, that’s the sauce to finishing UTMB, get out there and run. Sometimes, find friends to do it with. But the goal of the training should always be reminded, and never change.

For me: to enjoy.

the boost to 2026 being

'the year of trail running'

for me.

Stars do align, and mine did in 2026. I got into UTMB, and before I even knew, I started my own trail running community along with Robin Coeckhelberg, a young lad that never lacks energy and finishes things like everything is an F1 race, and my fiance, Lotte (Lotus) Kuiper, a creative spirit that hates running but loves everything I do. Dream team, but limited in time. Our vision was simple and written on our website: ‘“We envision a trail running world where adventure is shared, accessible, and rooted in community, all with respect for nature.

How do we do this? We bring runners of all levels together to train, explore nature, and experience trail adventures as an inclusive community. We share knowledge and grow side by side — from first trail steps to ultra distances, without ego, pressure, or exclusion.

” So there I was, training hard, but also making sure new people and experienced people get to experience trails from up close. We built a strong partnership with 4t2, trail.nl, naos optics, and klub.run. We organized cool events, FOREST NEVER ENDS (Relay Ultra Event), Dunesdays, Backyard Trail Ultra trainings. We started coaching over 8 athletes, and Shaun towards CCC. Planning effort and stress? High. Motivation to commit to my own UTMB journey? Even higher. If it gives you energy, keep doing it.

Chamonix.

the start, the finish,

where it all happens.

I was right, I think. It felt like the pinnacle of trail running. Step one foot in Chamonix, the MECCA of Trail Running, and everyone is scanning you like they’re robots to determine whether you are doing one of the UTMB races, and how fast you are. Keep analyzing, cause my chunky build won’t spill my distance. Stupidly, we stayed far, 1.5 hours away far, in Cluses to save costs. It seemed logical when Airbnbs are 300-1000 EUR/night in Cham. Yet, we spent 400 EUR for a week in Cluses. At least my pocket is safe. But rest is key before a race, and so I was tired and having nightmares of being tired during the race. If you have money, UTMB is not the week to underspend. Tip: book with free cancellation before you get in, and you may get lucky.

See UTMB week is more than just racing. First, you go, sit down and have a croissant while seeing people sprint frantically across the city centre as if to prove a point that they are runners too. Pros are doing casual jogs. Max Jollife? Just another runner. Kilian Jornet? Somewhere nearby. Jim Walmsley, oh he’s doing social runs. Then, there is the UTMB Village, every brand you fangirl about comes with the latest gear to convince you just more that you should only wear

their gear. But I am not a sell-out, my loyalty is fixed to a few brands that have shaped me towards being on the start line in 2 days.

the race.

The race was delayed by 2 hours. For our safety, weather ain’t looking great so let’s wait 2 hours. Right when you want to start. Wet shoes, sprinting towards the start after you hid in the rest area, it started. You see the pros and you are just exploding every second in your head: wow, what am I (?!) doing here? Then comes the emotion UTMB song, and you become emotional. I never cry, and suddenly I am blasting tears, not believing I am about to start on a Friday evening late August at 07:45 pm. I check my phone, every family member I know, every work colleague, every friend, has promised to me that they will follow along, that they are proud. FIRE MODE ACTIVATED. BOOM, GO… people start moving slowly towards the arc. You can’t RUN it’s too full.

chamonix -> contamines:

endless cheering zones.

I felt stupid right away. Why did I not know this race had such intense cheering? From the first moment, the cheering was SO intense. Bells everywhere. It would never pass my mind that I would hate cheering by the end of the race (too tired). The first 32 km go by fast. Every town I got into there is a blast of people drinking and partying.

Somehow the running felt you were jumping from party to party. Then in Saint-Gervais you even see kids dressed up. UTMB truly means something to these people, and they made sure you feel welcome.

The hill after St. Gervais was one to remember. I felt in Zegama. Big flags waiving that only looked like viking flags, people screaming their lungs out like the finish is at the top of the hill. What a rush. At 32km, 1538 D+, Contamines, I meet my mom. Great! 4h10 min, 30 minutes ahead schedule. Refuel goes fast, quick hug, and off we go for phase 2.

contamines -> courmayeur:

smooth rolling.

Now we are deep into the night. I knew I would only see my mom the next day, at 08 am, in Italy. If I didn’t know what time was, I got reminded after having to wear an obligatory red light to protect wildlife and realizing how dark it truly was. Luck’s on us, the night was beautiful, and the moon illuminated our path. The shape of the mountains was visible, but not its features. You just knew, you were in a beautiful area. I shuffle a few times between long sleeve, no sleeve, charge head lamps, watch, and then suddenly it’s 7 am. The first view of the Mont Blanc from the Itlaian side, beautiful… 1 hour to Courmayeur, Italy. 2 hours ahead of schedule. We are on our way to running UTMB under 30 hours. This can’t be real. Hey mom. I arrive, follow the protocol everyone, 20 minutes max. But then I realise, I am tired. Not from running, but from not sleeping. I took a nap. I leave after 40 minutes. How wil l carry this fatigue for 90 more kilometers. Fuck.

courmayeur -> champex-lac:

where did we go wrong?

Directly, 800m elevation gain in 3.5 km. It’s steep. Sun is out. Sweating increases. The remaining part is next to a ridge, looking out at 4000m peaks. It’s beautiful, runnable, and here is where it all went wrong. I felt dizzy. I couldn’t run because my shoulder was hurting. I finally arrive, go to emergency. I am very short on salt. I skipped all my electrolytes since the beginning of the race and didn’t think it would matter. My shoulder? A severe muscular contraction. Another 30 minutes there to fix the shoulder.

We move on. I start checking messages, positive, as expected, but the expected still helps. It makes me happy. The unexpected made me even happier. Run Far Trail Community binging together like I am about to break a world record. Let’s go. More 800m ascents, everytime more technical, everytime more beautiful. But the damage has been done. With an unbalance to recover my muscles got sore quick. Running my fastest was 9:00min / km. WTF.

I arrive at La Fouly, I ask for a massage, and everything goes away. I am hitting target pace again and faster. I call my mom. On my way to meet you. I didn’t know they were worried. Her reply: “get here, you are stopping the race. It’s dangerous.” I knew this would happen. My family is OVERprotective. It fueled me to run faster and show I am okay. I am feeling great, REALLY great. Like I didn’t run any km yet (of course I would be lying). Km 128 (or so), my mom sees right away, I am okay. Keep on the show. We are almost there.

Now the toughest part of the race comes. Not the distance, but the elevation and technicality. We are now exactly on schedule. Sub 33, we will make it. WE WILL MAKE IT. Maybe 1 hour late, max. Before heading out, I take a number 2, completely in my head, and suddenly I see a recognizable face, Jim Walmsley… THE JW. What do I say? My hero. What do I say Farley? Nothing. I am in shock, and focused. Talk to you next time JW. I’ll get to (semi)-pro one day.

champex-lac -> tete de bechar:

where is my mind? a rollercoaster,

mentally and physically.

See at Champex-Lac I switched shoes. Put on the 4T2 since they have been my reliable training shoes. Time to feel natural. But somewhere I f**** up big time. The tendon connecting hamstring and calf on the right started flaring up badly. No… please. Uphills and muscle wise: fresh as basilicum on pasta. Ready to finish. Tendons: overcooked spaghettis. I am not sure if it was the distance or me switching shoes and running differently, but my knees started swelling. It took me a long time to get to Trient, km 150 or so. The downhill was brutal. Rocks, fun, but not now. I ask for a massage on my muscles.

Do the same magic as in La Fouly. It didn’t work. I lost a solid 20 minutes there. I stood up and suddenly… I feel cold very cold. I am shivering towards the aid station. UTMB organisation talks to me: you cannot continue. Switch clothes and put on 3-4 layers. Put soup in this flask. FUCK NO, There is an uphill. I will lose time taking it off. I need to go. Leave me alone. Okay I do it. Where is my other flask? I forgot it at emergency. Where is my mind? Lose another 10 minutes. It was now that the night is kicking in. The fatigue of a second night is hitting. I am getting irritable at everything. Why is my hamstring hurting? Why is the finish so far? Why am I cold if I am NEVER cold?

Let’s get this over with then. I am supposed to enjoy this ride. Come on body, I always treated you like a buddy. Don’t backstab me. We go up to a 30% ascent of 800m, I was dying. And I was cold. At the top I start laying down every 10-20 minutes or so, and take a 1 min nap. Suddenly, I can’t breathe. I feel for a brief moment like it’s the end. I stood up, convinced myself I am warm and didn’t sleep more until Vallorcine. Vallorcine. 1 more aid station. 1 more ascent. But I need a 10 min nap. I am drunk in fatigue, but finally not cold. I just can’t run. Luckily my uphill is still strong.

It was here that I slowly see everyone I ever saw and passed during the race, catching up on me. The negative spiralling. All the time I lost at aid stations. All the people that passed me that clearly only could because I was in a deeper pain than muscular. All my hard work in the last years down the drain. I put my knees in compression bandage. 1k to the last last ascent. Gosh, it was so technical. Why UTMB? Why did you do this? It’s like I am jumping between cracks and every wrong step will cost me a broken bone. The longest 1k of my life.

So, one more ascent, I call my fiancee. She tells me I am okay. Time to finish, quit bitching. So I did. The sun is coming up. My mood changes. We are close to something unimaginable. I reply to a few messages to distract myself. It’s coming home. We arrive at the last aid station. 7 more km to go. All downhill. I call mom, I am coming. I tell Dirk, yeah, I am close, no clue what he is doing 6 am on the Sunday if he is not running.

tete de bechar -> chamonix:

you’re there.

how do you feel?

happy for once.

All downhill. A paradise in my ears any other time in my life. But now it felt like every step down I had a tiny monster glued to my leg and as soon as I bend my knee it would stab me with its little knife. I don’t ever want to see that tiny monster again. 7km felt long. I was crying because the race went so well and now I can’t finish strong. I am happy for the people running towards the finish. Towards their dream. I want to join them.

I see every 5 minutes a group of runners that stuck together to go through this hard moment. I was alone. Too slow for anyone. Everyone cheering on the way now to me felt like they are just saying it to disturb my sleeping head. Can’t you see my body is moving but mentally I am sleeping? 3 more km to go, and then, there is Dirk. Wait Dirk? What are you doing here man? Didn’t matter, my mood changed. Let’s do this. Talks about the ride. Reflecting on the week.

I see my mom 1km before the finish. I arrive at Chamonix. Mom, Jan-Dirk, Dirk, Shaun, all there. WHAT? I will be the first from Curacao, I am with my mom, people I started this trail running journey with, are here, filming and jogging with me, and I never knew it was their plan. Why can I suddenly run? I am running. But I slow down. My mom is getting over the finish line with me. I show my Curacao flag to the world. No one knows what this means. No one asks. But I know what it meant. I ran under the Aruban flag, and no one (except one) runner asked where this is. Me trying to represent the ABC-islands created a signal where people wouldn’t know how to talk to me, so they simply didn’t. I ran alone mostly, but at the finish I am crossing with 3 friends, 1 mother, and 1 friend filming. We just did it. I don’t need to text anyone, because everyone was live streaming.

It’s 8 am on a Sunday. Perfect moment to wake up for anyone. A coffee, a croissant, and a friend that achieved what they wanted. For me it was the perfect moment to sleep. But first, I get my finisher vest, have a laugh or two with everyone, and close this chapter. It went by so fast. Ironically, it felt fast, after all, we were there. Drunk in sleep I take the 1.5 hour train back. I fall asleep on the passenger next to me. They all understand. Even after it happened 2 or 3 times. 36h 17 min of my life. Of my long life. Not so much. So when do we repeat it?

in hindsight.

I did everything I could, and for that the race went exactly as I wanted. Don’t get caught up in the numbers, because only you made them up. I am thankful for everyone in the last 6 years of my running career that made me get hear, and never questioned my obsessive behaviour. My mom looks at me and sees a responsible 27-yeard-old person that got far and learnt a lot from the people around him and this insane sports he does.

That is the magic of trail running, and I want it to be part of my life forever. Forever. Today, I can barely walk. But the heart is full. Oh, and during such a long race, you think of the craziest things. I am ready to get married. Ready for kids soon. Ready to build a family and the next generation of Curacao pro trail runners. Dreams don’t change, they find a new chapter in our lives. My path is set, but the feelings, just like during UTMB can change any time. And we like that.

Farley.

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