Mt Solitary Ultra is one of the toughest trail races in New South Wales. This race demands smart pacing, resilience and the determination to keep moving when both legs and mind begin to question why you’re out there.
Part of my fear stemmed from the race’s qualification requirements. These rules exist for a reason. Ultra distance events push the body into extreme stress—dehydration, heat, illness, hyperthermia, injury—and the terrain can be unforgiving. Organisers need to know that runners have enough endurance and experience to stay safe, especially in remote areas where first aid might take hours to reach them. Cutoff times are another major factor. Ultras have strict limits and if too many under-prepared runners enter they may not finish in time, creating complications for volunteers, medical teams and event permits.
To my relief, they accepted my registration, but they strongly advised me to stay well ahead of the two cutoffs, warning that if I reached them too close to the limit, it would be nearly impossible to cross the valley and reach the finish in time.
By the time my registration was finally approved, I had only four days left before race day. I was fully aware of the risk—the possibility of failure felt overwhelmingly high. The only way forward was to strengthen my mindset and anchor myself in faith. But I was terrified and kept asking myself, How dare you take on a race like this?
So, I turned to my prayer group and asked for their prayers and support. As I expected, they surrounded me with encouragement, love and prayerful intercession. One of the ladies sent me a memory verse: “For God has not given us a spirit of fear and timidity” (2 Timothy 1:7).
I had read this verse many times before, but this time it struck my soul with unusual force. Tears fell instantly. I felt fear flee from my heart because I knew this was a promise from my Creator.
I thanked God for giving me two more memory verses to fortify my mind for the mission ahead:
- “For with God nothing is impossible” (Luke 1:37).
- “I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength” (Philippians 4:13).
Sunday morning finally arrived. As I prepared myself mentally, physically and spiritually, I prayed: “Dear God, I ask for two miracles today. Miracle number one: help me reach checkpoint one before the cutoff. Miracle number two: help me reach the finish line before the cutoff.”
The countdown began and the early wave crossed the starting line. I started steady, humbled and grateful for the opportunity to experience the journey ahead.
After the first 5 km I reached Kedumba River. Suddenly, I heard footsteps behind me and someone calling out: “Don’t go through there! If you trust me, you can cross here so you won’t get wet!”
I introduced myself: “Hi, my name is Eranita. What’s your name?”
She introduced herself—a kind, friendly woman. When I asked her how far Mt Solitary was from where we stood, she looked at me with a puzzled expression and said gently, “You obviously haven’t run this track before.” She lived locally and knew the terrain well. “We’re just about to start the climb,” she added. “I’m going to go steady. If you want to go faster, please go ahead.”
“Oh no, definitely not,” I replied. Staying behind her felt like the right decision. If I could match her pace, I wouldn’t have to waste energy figuring out how far to go or how hard to push. But following her was tough. Several times she asked if I was okay—she could hear my laboured breathing as I tried to keep up. She wasn’t wrong—the climb was far from over.
The day before the race, my friend James gave me simple but powerful advice: “Iyen, your goal is to aim for one tree at a time.” Eventually, I reached the top of Mt Solitary. By then, I had aimed for hundreds of trees.
As I continued climbing alone, I remembered the moment in Scripture when the disciples asked Jesus to teach them how to pray. Jesus taught them to ask for daily bread—not a lifetime supply, but enough for today.
During this race, I finally understood that teaching in a new way. Jesus was showing me the power of micro goals. Life’s challenges can feel overwhelming when we look at the whole mountain. But when we break them into small, faithful steps—one tree, one breath, one prayer—victory becomes possible. Every small action surrendered to God becomes a daily victory.
Eventually, I reached checkpoint one with only a few minutes to spare. I climbed the Furber steps at Scenic World with everything I had left. Miracle number one was accomplished.
But I still needed miracle number two.
By this stage, my quads and calves were burning. Every fibre in my body begged me to stop and rest. Yet deep inside, I knew God had not brought me this far just to let me fail. I believed He wanted me to finish the race.
When my body screamed for rest, I knew I needed to change the atmosphere of my mind. I needed something stronger than pain; something that would shift my focus from my weakness to God’s power. So I decided to sing “Faith Is the Victory” and “Power in the Blood”. I sang loudly in my heart and the songs became my strength, my rhythm, my prayer.
As I checked my watch, I realised I was on track to reach Jamison Creek before the cutoff. I claimed the power God promised through the Holy Spirit. The words of the song echoed in my soul:
“There is power, power, Wonder working power, In the blood of the Lamb; There is power, power, Wonder working power, In the precious Blood of the Lamb.”
From Jamison Creek—the lowest point of the course—the elevation gain was brutal. It was roughly 600–700 metres of vertical climb for another 5 km.
The ascent began immediately. My legs went from downhill fatigue to uphill burn in an instant. The climb was long and continuous. My heart rate soared to the 160s, pounding like a drum inside my chest. I prayed, “God, I don’t have any energy left. But if You give me strength, I will keep putting one foot in front of the other.”
Surrounded by hundreds of towering trees, I felt small and intimidated. The vertical gain ahead of me looked impossible. But I kept climbing—one tree at a time.
The vertical gain ahead of me was intimidating. In life, we face so many challenges that demand perseverance, yet we often feel tempted to give up before the task is complete. As I climbed, I reflected on my own life—the times I made premature decisions, the dreams I abandoned because the goals felt too big or too audacious.
But when God journeys with you, He encourages you to take on the impossible tasks He has prepared. He invites you to sing of His goodness and claim the victory that can only be found through Jesus.
Step by step, tree by tree, prayer by prayer, I kept moving.
I finally reached the finish line with just 10 minutes to spare. I was the final finisher of the Mt Solitary Ultra 2026.
My heart leaped with joy; tears filled my eyes. I felt the weight of every prayer, every verse, every step.
Thank You, Jesus, for answering miracle number two.
Thank You for fulfilling every promise I claimed throughout this race.
Eranita Lamplough is a lecturer at Avondale University and a casual intensive care registered nurse at Sydney Adventist Hospital. She is married to Nathan, and they are blessed with a daughter, Felicity.
