'Amazing' race: Ephrata runner tackles rugged ultramarathon
Erin Wingerter: "It was such a beautiful experience."
ARIZONA — 250 miles to go, and the clock was ticking.
For most folks, the thought of crossing the desert and mountains of rugged central Arizona on foot in less than 125 hours might be considered something akin to torture.
Not Erin Wingerter.
Not even after prolonged sleep deprivation, blistered heels, climbing more elevation than Mt. Everest, eating to the point of near-vomiting, exposure to temperatures ranging from sub-freezing to 90-plus degrees, and a lifetime’s worth of emotions crammed into one week.
“It was such a beautiful experience, challenging beyond anything I’ve done,” the 43-year-old Ephrata woman said after enduring last month’s Cocodona 250 trail race.
First held in 2021, the Cocodona 250 has been described as one of the most difficult ultramarathons in North America. To be an official finisher, runners have 125 hours to complete the equivalent of 10 back-to-back marathons over a five-day span. That’s an average of 50 miles a day.
Erin started her run at 5 a.m. on Monday, May 4. She finished just a tad over 121 hours later, at 6:15 a.m. on Saturday, May 9. She was greeted by three joyous sisters who toiled faithfully as her support crew.
“I was beyond grateful to have all three of my sisters crewing and pacing me,” she said. “I felt so much love and support from them.”
The course begins near Black Canyon City, then winds south and ends in downtown Flagstaff. Runners pass through Sonoran Desert saguaros before ascending red rock monoliths at Sedona, followed by Ponderosa pine forests and volcanic peaks near Flagstaff. Beautiful but brutal, there’s 38,791 feet of panting elevation gain and 33,884 feet of knee-jarring descent.
Erin was among 400 fellow runners – the capped limit, with another 800 on a waiting list – who paid $2,000 apiece to enter this self-imposed suffer fest. Erin placed 235th overall and 62nd in her division. Of those who started, over 100 entrants ran shorter segments or did not finish.
The overall winner was Rachel Entrekin, an ultramarathon marvel who became the race’s first female champion in a remarkable record time of 56 hours, 9 minutes, 48 seconds. Entrekin reportedly slept only 19 minutes during the race. She finished over an hour ahead of runner-up Kilian Korth, the top male competitor.
On its website, Arizona-based Aravaipa Running succinctly sums up Cocodona in 16 words: “The distance is long. The course is steep and rugged. It will be hot and cold.”
Organizers also offer this droll advice to prospective entrants: “It is probably a good idea to put in a little training before May.”
All of which intrigued Erin, a native of flatland Indiana; a 6-foot-tall soccer and basketball player through college; a fast sprinter who once, in her own words, “despised long-distance running.”
But like the course itself, Erin’s journey to Cocodona was a long one.
IN THE BEGINNING ….
Graduating summa cum laude from Wheaton College in 2005 with a bachelor’s degree in business and economics, Erin lived in several states and spent six months in the Philippines and a year in China before settling in Ephrata 16 months ago. She currently works as the human resources manager at Simplot’s Moses Lake facility.
Despite her initial distaste for distance events, Erin completed two half-marathons in her early 20s, but then “pretty much completely stopped running.” Until 2019, at age 37, when she decided to make “some life changes and (try) to be healthier.”
Her first attempt at the new lifestyle was inauspicious.
“I ran a one-mile race and it took me about 14 minutes and I thought I was going to die,” she said.
But Erin had also listened to an audiobook entitled, “Can’t Hurt Me,” in which “this guy talks about running a hundred-mile race.”
“I could do that,” she thought. And did, completing her first 100-mile race in Kansas in October 2020. Since then, she has continued to run “ultras.” In 2022, she “took a jump up” and completed Utah’s Moab 240.
But Cocodona was an even bigger jump. Organizers livestream the entire event and Erin tuned in “off and on” in 2024 and 2025 to watch.
“It pulled at me for some reason,” she said. “I really only sign up for races which I am truly excited to attempt. Every year since I started running, I try and pick one ‘A’ race that, for various reasons, I am truly not sure I can finish. A race which lies at the very edge of what is possible for me.”
Cocodona fit the bill.
DOES ALL THIS SOUND CRAZY?
Her preparation began last September by running the “very tough” Dark Divide 100 near Mt. Rainier. Through the winter into this spring, she did long weekend runs, climbed with a weighted vest, sat in sauna/steam rooms for up to 60 “miserable” minutes for heat acclimation.
Five weeks prior to Cocodona, her training regimen peaked with the “50-50” challenger at Badger Mountain near Pasco – running a 50-miler on Friday followed by 50 kilometers (31 miles) on Saturday.
Erin quipped: “Someone told me recently you know you have moved to the next step of crazy when you are running ultras to train for an ultra.”
Along with the grueling conditioning, the other key to success is having a strong support crew. Her sisters fit that bill, too. Erin’s partners in perseverance were:
— Heidi Beauchamp, 45, of Lakewood, Colorado, whom Erin described as “an amazing ultra runner … (and) my best friend.” The two have “paced” one another in other events. Ultras allow runners to be accompanied at times on a course, providing morale and advice, but they cannot serve “as mules” – that is, they cannot carry any water, food, or other supplies for the entrant. Quid pro quo: Erin will be in Colorado in July to help crew for Heidi when she runs the High Lonesome 100.
— Rachel Mayhew, 37, of Holland, Michigan: “rock star mom of four,” also a trail runner, also considered “the most responsible” of the four sisters and therefore designated as crew chief. “Doesn’t hurt that she is also a massage therapist!” Erin exclaimed.
— Kendra Wingerter, 35, of Terre Haute, Indiana: “gentle servant spirit” who was the crew’s primary driver in Arizona, logging over 1,000 miles in their rental car, much of it on rough dirt roads. “It’s hours of driving to aid stations, often in the middle of the night, waiting and waiting for the runner to arrive, then … (helping) put the runner back together before sending them off again into the wilderness!” said Erin.
Sleep deprivation was a big challenge at Cocodona. Things get weird moving through the mountains in the dark at 3 a.m. Erin said she slept a total six hours out of her 121 hours on the course, from 5-minute “dirt naps” on the trail to the longest being a 3.5-hour zonk at around 108 miles.
Eating was another factor. Food is fuel, and the calorie burning is huge. “How does one stuff enough food in their face to not just keel over at some point?” said Erin, recalling how she ate three servings of lasagna at one point and “the next 17 miles were amazing!” Another aid station volunteer provided grits with brown sugar and chicken nuggets “to go, and that was perfect.” Later, she found that calories from some of the “race nutrition,” such as bars, “were fairly difficult to keep down.”
Physically, Erin said she finished with two “decent-sized heel blisters,” hips that needed periodic stretching, and swollen ankles and feet – she used three pairs of shoes, the last being one size larger and worn over the last 100 miles.
But the mental side, with emotions shifting constantly, was even more difficult. “One minute I feel like I can’t take another step, and the next I feel like I could run forever,” she said. “It wasn’t until mile 210 that I really thought it might be possible to actually finish the race.”
Her mantra throughout was “just keep moving forward.”
“Amazing” is Erin’s adjective of choice in describing the Aravaipa race organization, its volunteers, and, in particular, her fellow ultra runners who help and cheer on one another.
“This is one of my very favorite things about this sport and this community of crazy people,” she said. “Overall, people are shockingly positive even when they are physically destroyed.”
Nearing the finish, Erin said she was “filled with gratitude” for her “amazing sisters” and their willingness to support her, along with memories of their mom who passed away last August after a two-decade fight with Parkinson's disease, and personal pride “for not quitting when I wanted to.”
Their post-race celebration consisted of soaking in a hot tub at a rental Airbnb in Sedona, eating “lots of food,” sleeping, and “taking four baths because it’s the only thing that made my body feel better.”
When she crossed the finish line in Flagstaff, Erin semi-jokingly said she was “never going to run again.”
Four days later, she signed up for a 50-kilometer run this August in Cle Elum. Last week, she was on top of Beasley Hill overlooking Ephrata, laden with a hydration vest, sweating in the afternoon sun, surprised to be recovering faster than expected after such a huge effort.
“So pleased with that!” she said.
Erin says she runs primarily for personal mental health, a love of nature and adventures, and the lessons “long-distance running teaches me about how to live everyday life and overcome obstacles, and the connection of the ultra running community.”
Her message to others?
“I always want to encourage other people that whether it is ultra running, gardening, hiking, climbing, or deciding to run your first 5K race at the age of 60: Go for it!” she said. “We are so much more capable than we think we are.”
