Veteran Acres – Crystal Lake, IL
Some races are “challenging.” Some are “hilly.” And then there’s Soul Crusher, which is best described as: What if Satan personally designed a 5K loop and the race directors said, yeah, let’s run it THREE TIMES and then tack on a bonus tour of the park out of spite?
PRE-RACE: THE CALM BEFORE THE MUDSPLOSION
Parking was easy at the main Veteran Acres lot, and packet pickup was the building right in front of it, generously decorated with 438 people in tights nervously carb-loading—so it was hard to miss.
Then came the 20-minute WALK to the start line. Not a jog. Not a shuffle. A literal scenic warm-up hike just to reach your doom. In a normal race this would be called “mile zero.” In a Soul Crusher race, it’s called “foreshadowing.”
The two Jeffs gave the pre-race speech and immediately started gaslighting everyone by saying this year might be “easier.” Within minutes, one of the Jeffs accidentally full-on body-slammed a wooden bench and still just got up and kept going. If that doesn’t set the tone for the suffering ahead, nothing does. Respect.
THE COURSE: MOSTLY UPHILL (PHYSICALLY AND EMOTIONALLY)
The heavens had graciously dumped rain onto the course hours before the start, so we had the privilege of running on a surface best described as “buttered sledding hill.” It was muddy, slick, and 100% determined to yeet you into the bushes.
Miraculously, I did not fall. Many did. I watched them question their life choices in real time.
The 10-mile race was three loops of terror / spiritual awakening / hamstring reckoning. Every single hill was uphill both ways. Downhills weren’t even “downhills”—they were controlled roped descents like you’re rappelling into a ravine in a military training exercise. Uphills? No ropes. Just your bare soul and whatever small tree you could grab while trying not to fall backward like a cartoon refrigerator.
Loop 1: “This is fine. The StairMaster paid off.”
Loop 2: “Oh… oh no. My legs are sending hate mail.”
Loop 3: “Why is this still happening? I think I’m in a fever dream.”
By the halfway point, every muscle group had filed a complaint with HR.
HYDRATION STRATEGY: CHAOS, BUT LOGICALLY CHAOTIC
Only aid station was around 2.75-ish miles in per loop, which sounds close until you realize those 2.75 miles take what feels like 45 years to complete.
I rolled the dice and did not bring water—bold move for someone who self-identifies as a 215 lb water buffalo. But honestly, it helped on the rope descents. Two hands free = two chances to survive.
Heed on lap 1 and 2. Heed + Coke and Water on lap 3. That combo was like installing spiritual nitrous.
THE BEST PARTS
- Fallen pine needles = genuine actual clouds. Soft, silent, glorious.
- Themed signs / Halloween setups / random on-course pranks = A+ distraction from existential despair.
- Runners were actually smiling… for the first five minutes before turning into oxygen-starved zombie mountaineers.
- Ornery Mule puts on incredible events. Just enough suffering to question your sanity, but community vibes strong enough to keep you moving forward.
THE “FINISH” (LOL NOPE, THAT WAS A TRAP)
After finishing loop 3, I thought I had ascended to the promised land.
Plot twist:
That was NOT the finish.
They sent us on ANOTHER 2-3 miles THROUGH MORE HILLS, weaving through the park like a psychological thriller. You’d see the general finish area, think “Okay it’s done,” then BOOM — redirected into another forest pocket of despair.
And then when you finally did reach the actual finish?
A big.
Fat.
Final.
Hill.
Of course.
I came in past the cutoff (3:30) by a bit, but they still let me finish — trail culture for the win.
FINAL THOUGHTS
Soul Crusher absolutely lived up to its name. The mud tried to take us, the hills tried to break us, the ropes tried to drop us, but the experience?
Phenomenal.
My legs were shot, my ego was humbled, and I felt VERY alive.
Would I recommend it?
Yes.
Would I do it again?
Ask me after I can walk down stairs normally again.
11/10: Would suffer joyfully once more.