UTMB Speedgoat 32k review

UTMB Speedgoat 32k review
by Allan LEONARD
24 July 2026

Driving the 9% climb up the mountain indicated what was in store for my attempt to climb 2,000m over the Speedgoat 32k course, with a maximum altitude of 3,337m at Hidden Peak. I have been training for this event for several months, as well as heat and altitude acclimation over the past few weeks while in the US.

Arriving at Snow Bird ski resort, I immediately realised it accommodates well-heeled holiday makers, with is valet parking, multiple accommodation offerings, spa treatments, and outdoor pool and hot tub. I can only imagine how busy this place must be during peak ski season. I settled into my room, with a splendid view of the mountain in the background. I just made out the peak in the distance that I will run up to in a couple days’ time.

In my research, I came across a video where the runners did a recce by taking the ski lift to the peak. When I collected my bib (with no check of any kit), I asked if there was any complimentary ski lift pass to Hidden Peak. Yes, on the Friday and Saturday, aimed for spectators. Well, that was no good for me, as my race was on the Friday. At least Sunday’s 50k runners could avail of the offer. I declined the $52.50 cost for a single peak pass.

I toured the expo for what it was worth. I bought an out-of-season Compressport aero fitting running top at a good price. Not that my relatively slow running speed justified the aero fitting, but it looks the part.

I attended the runner’s briefing, which was standard fare. Afterwards, the Women of Wasatch running club held a panel discussion about their organisation. The perspectives of the panellists, including two indigenous Americans, were interesting.

I spent the rest of the Thursday resting. I laid out my kit and updated my running plan, because the temperatures were actually cooler than I anticipated — the forecast was now 65F (18C) at the start and 82F (28C) at the finish, with it being a few degrees cooler at the peak.

An advantage of staying at Snow Bird was that it was only a short, 100m walk to the race start. There were around 500 participants gathered for the 32k event. For the pre-start build up, instead of the synchronised clapping at events that I experienced at UTMB Arc of Attrition (Cornwall) and UTMB Snowdonia, we were directed to face the American flag for the playing of the Star-Spangled Banner over the loudspeaker. They do things differently at UTMB events here.

It was a treat to have Karl Meltzer address us runners. Meltzer is the original “Speedgoat” and creator of these courses, including the 50k version with 3,500m of climbing. He reminded us that today’s course was difficult, but that it was well marked and marshalled, so we didn’t need our phones: “If I see anyone with their phones out, that’ll be a 15-minute penalty.” I laughed out loud but didn’t notice anyone else doing so. Perhaps this goes with the lack of kit checks.

The elite runners set off three minutes before the rest of us. When it came to our turn, we funnelled one-by-one through the chute. Meltzer was there giving high fives. I slapped his hand and shouted, “Legend!”, to him. He smiled back at me. What a great way to start the race.

I remembered to start at a nice and slow pace. Made sure my heart rate didn’t go over 150bpm, trying to keep it in the 140s. The first 5k were relatively flat, mildly up and down. I didn’t want to get my poles out too soon. I got them out right at a point where Meltzer was there as a marshal, telling everyone, “If you’ve got poles, now is the time to get them out.” Hey, Karl, this was in my race plan all along.

Much of the climbing for the first 10k was on single track. On the plus side, it’s easy to navigate. On the negative side, you feel the pressure of the runner behind you. I learned that not always they wanted to overtake you. I’d signal with my finger to my right or left, and sometimes they replied nope. Ah, so they were using me as a lead.

The first of two climbs to Hidden Peak summit was as challenging as I expected, from my online research. I double-poled it up the particularly steep final 100m ascent. Slightly disheartened that my time split was three hours; a six-hour finish was looking optimistic.

Felt good at the aid station, where a volunteer helped me refill my soft flasks. Carrying two litres across four flasks enabled me to skip the additional water stations. Having learnt my lesson from spending too much time at a UTMB Snowdonia aid station, I set off relatively quickly, in just a couple of minutes.

The descent was about as steep as the ascent, dropping about 400m in altitude. Then the return back up at about 18k. Well, I wasn’t expecting the alpine-style ridge climb. That was some hard climbing. Nearing the summit for the second time, some spectators were shouting encouragement to approaching runners, reading their first names off the bibs.

“Come on, Allan, you can do it! You’re doing great!”

I replied, “I wish I had as much energy as you do.”

“Oh, you do! That’s why you’re crushing this!”

I only needed to refill my salt water flask. I noticed that if I stopped moving, my legs would start to cramp. So, I kept moving and consumed more salt water as soon as I could.

I was mentally prepared for the technical part of the course that was made up of large rocks with a section in permanent snow. It was difficult enough navigating this up and would likely be as tricky going down. I actually slipped onto my arse in the snow section, even with poles in my hands. No harm done. I just laughed and said, “It had to happen!” to nearby runners.

What I wasn’t ready for was how hard it would be for me to go down the steep trails that we had earlier climbed up. They were too steep for my tightening quads. Again, I learned from UTMB Snowdonia that an attempt to hammer down could bring on cramps. My heart rate was actually low at 135bpm. But I just couldn’t output more. This was frustrating. But I consoled myself that my six-hour target was no longer feasible, and that if I kept my wits, I would finish well, with no injuries or complaints (just a couple of near misses of a near rolled ankle and acute calf cramps).

But I did repeat a mistake that I’ve made before. I had it in my head that the course distance was 31k. I began to wind it up at 30k. When I reached the next kilometre, I realised that I had miscalculated. Although an event photographer was shouting encouragement, I felt no shame resorting to my poles. However, I did put them away just in time for the last 100m sprint to the finish (which was the flattest part of the whole course!).

A downside of the Snow Bird venue was that there was no place to cool down afterwards. I was winded and I need to jog it off as well as sit and take a rest. But I couldn’t immediately find spots for either. I noticed a canopy area in front of the toilets, so I recovered there. My heart rate was about 120bpm, which I wasn’t so worried about. But I was still breathing heavily for several minutes. An event volunteer came over to check in on me. I explained myself and in the three minutes talking with her, my breathing rate slowed. My heart rate was about the same though. I was never in danger, I think. I mean, I wasn’t that surprised by my body’s response after running at tempo rate for over six hours.

I got the obligatory post-race photos with me wearing a finisher’s medal. And one holding a plush toy goat, of course. I exchanged the favour by taking photos of others. This is a part of the event that I enjoy very much — congratulating each other on a mission accomplished.

The post-race food was cheese pizza. I was hoping for something more, like salty soup. I sat next to a fellow runner for a post-run chat, which was pleasant. It was good to share our experiences of this race and others. For example, he runs in Colorado, “where the mountain is straight up and down”, unlike the unrelenting up-and-down challenge that Meltzer laid out for us.

After updating my family and friends of my race completion, I returned to my room for a shower and nap. The sleep was not the best idea, because I woke up with severe cramping in my quads and calves. AI Claude suggested more salt water and magnesium, and I duly complied.

I treated myself to a bison tenderloin dinner at the resort’s restaurant. It paired nicely with a glass of Pinot Noir. As I ate and admired the stunning view of the mountain in the background, I reflected and took it all in what I set out to do in this event, as well as the joy of seeing family and friends during my holiday. It was a fitting end to an epic adventure.