IN THE LONG RUN
COREE WOLTERING IS AN INSPIRATION TO ANYONE WHO HAS EVER IMAGINED THEMSELVES TRAIL RUNNING – AND EVERYONE WHO HASN’T
As a gay Black man from America’s midwest competing in the world of ultrarunning, Coree Woltering is breaking down barriers at the same time as smashing records
These are the norm on such a physically demanding endeavour. But ultras throw up surprising challenges, too, and the most difficult for Woltering as he set a fastest known time (FKT) in 2020 on the historic Ice Age Trail in Wisconsin, US, was one a lot of natives of the upper midwestern state can relate to: bugs of all kinds.
‘I was only eight miles into the second day and I walked out of the woods and told my crew I was done,’ Woltering laughs. ‘I had 40 ticks covering my legs and I didn’t want to deal with it.’
As Woltering’s crew convinced him to continue, an Instagram follower gave a tip to The North Face runner: wrap duct tape around his ankles – sticky side out – so the ticks get stuck on the tape. ‘It went from being an issue to something I never even noticed,’ says Woltering. He finished the 1,147-mile trail in 21 days, 13 hours and 35 minutes, taking just under five hours off the previous time.
This was one of the many times during his bid for the FKT that Woltering experienced the midwestern kindness he hopes to spread throughout the rest of the trail-running community in the US and beyond.
Woltering is from Illinois, a state that borders Wisconsin but is more recognised for corn fields and deep-dish pizza than it is for mountainous terrain and singletrack. Combine that with the fact he is a gay Black man in a sport jam-packed with straight white men, and it’s clear Woltering epitomises the development of a more diverse ultrarunning community.
Ultrarunning wasn’t Woltering’s first love. He competed in triathlons in college and qualified for the Ironman World Championships in 2012 and 2013. But after he graduated from college, he moved to Boulder, Colorado, a state known for events such as the Leadville 100 and the Hardrock 100. With ultrarunning legends Scott Jurek and Anton Krupicka calling Boulder home, it wasn’t long before Woltering befriended a group of trail runners. One of them asked Woltering to pace for him for a section of the Leadville 100. Though wary of the elevation, he agreed to pace and came away with a new appreciation of ultrarunning.
‘I loved being on the trail and I loved the training my friend was doing,’ says Woltering. He paced the Winfield-to-Twin Lakes segment, marvelling at the scenery from the high vantage points and thriving on the camaraderie among runners.
Inspired by the experience, Woltering decided to enter Leadville himself. As part of this training, he took part in the 2015 Silver Rush 50-miler, where he came fourth, missing out on the podium by 52 seconds. Coming so close to that podium lit an internal fire.
‘It was one of the best and worst things to happen to me,’ he says. ‘On the good side, I was less than a minute off people who had done this stuff before. But it was only 52 seconds. I never felt competitiveness until those 52 seconds.’ After that, Woltering was hooked: trail running was his future.
Learning to fly
Woltering won every trail ultra he signed up for in 2015, including the Malibu Canyon 50K and the Tunnel Hill 50 Mile. But while his career was taking off, something was missing from his personal life: his support system. He relocated to Illinois to be with his husband, Tom Aussem, trading high-altitude training and singletrack for proximity to family and a return to his roots. Just before Valentine’s Day in 2016 – and months before his marriage to Aussem – Woltering had come out as gay to his followers on Facebook. A few days afterwards, he shaved nine minutes from his marathon personal best at the Mercedes Marathon in Birmingham, Alabama, running a 2:28. At the Chicago Marathon in October, he knocked that down to 2:26. Later, at Tunnel Hill, Illinois, in November, he clocked the second-fastest trail 50-miler in North America that year. An emotional weight had been lifted. Woltering felt like he could fly.
‘Part of the reason it took me so long to come out was the fact that I didn’t have any bigger sponsors at that point,’ he says. ‘I didn’t know of any Black professional ultrarunners, so to add Black and gay into it… I didn’t know if any companies could handle it.’•
WHEN COREE WOLTERING DECIDED TO RUN 1,147 MILES OVER 21 DAYS, HE EXPECTED TO SUFFER TWISTED ANKLES AND INFLAMED LIGAMENTS
However, once he settled back in the midwest, Woltering realised that coming out wasn’t even close to being the most difficult of his career challenges.
The toughest thing he had to face was his location.
First of all, the weather requires exceptional toughness. ‘Summers are 105 degrees [40°C] and winters are -5 [-20°C] and harsh. You just learn to get through it,’ he says. Woltering also needed to battle the lack of prestigious races in his region and the trail-running community’s belief that the midwest of the US wasn’t for serious trail runners. ‘It’s especially hard early in your career when you’re trying to get noticed,’ he explains. ‘Companies expect you to race the bigger races.’
Community service
Unfortunately for Woltering, those events didn’t take place in the central part of the country. So he got creative. Because he didn’t acquire any sponsors until 2017, Woltering’s budget dictated his schedule. He initially prioritised convenience and affordability for his events, so his early days found him racing in the northcentral midwest of the US, running races such as the Tunnel Hill 50 Mile in Illinois or the Superior 100 Mile in Minnesota. He would drive to the race the day before with Aussem, sleep in the back of the car, and then run.
To garner attention, he highlighted the region’s signature hospitality, packing a padded jacket, comfy shoes and sweatpants so he could hang out at races for hours after he finished. He’d wait for runners who finished long after dark, chatting about the course with his new acquaintances. ‘We joke that a midwestern goodbye will take you six hours, but it’s so true,’ Woltering laughs. ‘Take me to any race and you’re going to be there all day, all night and maybe into the next morning.’
While enjoyable and accessible from his location, these events were rarely the marquee races prioritised in the ultra community – a fact Woltering finds frustrating. ‘We have some talented athletes here who don’t get exposure and coverage because of where we live,’ he says. But he predicts this will change as the United States and the wider world emerges from the pandemic. ‘Local races are going to be the backbone of ultrarunning for a while,’ he says, underscoring that many athletes won’t be travelling until Covid-19 is completely under control. Woltering notes that this evolution is already afoot with USA Track & Field (USATF), which has recently awarded national championships to races in New England and the midwest, rather than usual west coast locations.
“I DIDN’T SEE PEOPLE WHO LOOKED LIKE ME WHEN I WAS GROWING UP
‘It’s been awesome getting folks to the midwest or the east coast for races, he says.
He’s also noticing changes regarding racial diversity in his predominantly white sport, referencing his sponsor The North Face as a brand focusing on inclusion with its team of athletes. Still, Woltering admits to feeling constant pressure because of the colour of his skin. He doesn’t recall dealing with overt racism during his career, but he says it always sits at the forefront of his mind. He frequently reminds himself to stay calm so he isn’t labelled an ‘angry Black guy’.
‘If the top runner from another team happens to be white and is having a bad day and freaks out, it’s like, “Oh, so-and-so just had a bad day,”’ he explains. ‘But as a person of colour, if you have a bad day and freak out about it, people think, “What’s up with him? He’s such an angry man.”’
Breaking down barriers
The Ice Age Trail was the first major trail Woltering found for training after his return to Illinois in 2016, so the record had been on his radar for a few years. When the pandemic hit and national races were cancelled, the time was ripe for his FKT. He began his journey a few days after George Floyd’s murder, as racial unrest spiked across the country. Though briefly concerned for his safety while running through isolated pockets of the midwest, he experienced nothing but generosity and kindness during the endeavour.
Woltering encountered friendly locals who stopped by to support his attempt by accompanying him on small segments or supplying him with red velvet cupcakes. At one point, a three-year-old boy who had already section-hiked 150 miles joined Woltering to run through his favourite stretch: a tunnel just beyond the West Bend segment. ‘He was giving me advice on how I should run the trail,’ Woltering remembers from that rainy day.
‘He told me I should go through the mud and not the water because it’s less slippery. It was so cute and so funny. Honestly, that dude is going to be the FKT holder of the Ice Age Trail when he grows up.’
Still, Woltering understands the importance of his platform as a professional athlete, especially for the next generation of trail runners. ‘I didn’t see people who looked like me when I was growing up,’ he says. ‘I think it’s really important to be that kind of role model, so kids can see me and say, “Hey, I’d like to try that.”’
In addition to coaching budding athletes, Woltering is also participating in a mentorship programme with The North Face, the goal being to encourage ultrarunners from marginalised communities. ‘I really feel like going out and doing it is one of the best ways to show it, because that’s my story,’ he says.
As his star rises, Woltering is travelling further from home. In 2020, he raced in the Eco-Challenge Fiji as part of the first all-Black team to participate in the event.
But even as his talent takes him across the globe, his heart remains in the centre of the country. ‘It must be that midwestern charm,’ he says.