Addison Hendricks: The ultra prodigy who has the HOTS for running
Aged 16, Addison broke an American record by running 130 miles - now he's winning 400 mile 'journey races' put on by the legendary Lazarus Lake
Addison Hendricks is an ultra running prodigy, someone who set a 48-hour American Junior distance record when he was just 16.
Covering 130 miles in the process, he won the event, beating some of the biggest names in the sport along the way - although he humbly added they would have “wiped the floor with me” if a rainstorm hadn’t persuaded many to drop out.
Now 26, still very young in the ultra world, he has already competed in some of the biggest races around, including The Barkley Fall Classic, the Cowboy 200 and the Vol State Road Race.
In June this year, he won the Last Annual Heart of the South (HOTS) Road Race - the devilish creation of the man behind the infamous Barkley Marathons, Gary Cantrell, aka Lazarus ‘Laz’ Lake.
But despite his success, Addison is something of an ultra running throwback, dismissing events such as Western States, Badwater and Hardrock as commercialised and “flashy”.
He told the Running Tales Podcast: “I have no desire to do any of those races. Even if I was given free entry, I'd probably not go. If you can show me your math and justify charging $2,500 for a 200 mile run then we'll talk.”
Addison is not only imbued with a powerful resilience and deep desire to win but is blessed with a searing authenticity which separates him from the influencers who control so much of the conversation around running in 2024.
This is his story.
‘The soft record’ that inspired a 16-year-old to run 130 miles:
It was January 2015 when it first became clear that Addison was far from an ordinary runner.
Then a 16-year-old high school sophomore, he had been encouraged to enter the inaugural Wildcat 100 Ultra Race in his home town of Pensacola, Florida.
The event had been organised by Addison’s running coach as a fundraiser for the cross-country team.
The 48-hour race, which took place on a track, was open to anyone to run for as long, or as little, as they wanted. But Addison had big ideas.
“Me and the coach and some of the other guys were just hanging out after practice, talking and looking at records,” he said.
“I think it was a soft record. It was really not that bad I guess, as for any young person that is very far.
“But I was probably very easy to convince to do anything back then.”
The record Addison is talking about was the 48-hour American Junior Record (age 19 and under).
While most schoolboys probably wouldn’t have dismissed the 128.9 mile record as “soft,” Addison was convinced he could break it even though he had previously only run 16 miles.
Despite it being what he called “an abnormal event” for someone of that age, Addison was more than able to back up his boast.
Not only did he smash the record with 10 hours to spare, running 130.27 miles in only 37 hours 37 minutes and 59 seconds, he won the race - beating off competition from the likes of 24-hour US National Team member Greg Armstrong and legendary ultra runner Joe Fejes, who finished second.
And he did so despite “knowing nothing’ about running long distances.
“It’s funny to think about my mindset back then,” he said. “I just thought of it as running on a track.
“I didn't know anything about nutrition, what to eat, what to drink, how many calories to take in, or even about pacing for that long.
“There were so many good people in that race. It was one of the last certified, track races that you could use to qualify for Team USA. I took first place, that’s a fact, but they would wiped the floor with me if they had stuck around.
“But there was a bad rainstorm that came through and tents got destroyed. People decided it wasn’t a Team USA kind-of-a-day, so they dropped.”
‘I’ve got the HOTS for you!’ - how a girl sparked a love affair with a 400 mile race:
Despite his record breaking achievement, Addison wasn’t instantly propelled into the top tier of the ultra running world.
School still came first, and his parents sensibly railed against the idea of him travelling around the States to take part in long-distance races.
And, even more so in 2015 than today, ultra running was not a sport you did to make money.
Addison, who runs his own arcade games and casino gaming company, said: “I don't know if there's anyone that makes a pure living off ultra running.
“I've been told by many of my mentors that ultra running is not the sexy side of running. There's no money waiting for us.
“If I want to make money running, I'd better go run a fast 100 metres.”
After high school, Addison did continue to run, taking on long-distance races including 50ks and 50-milers, and even 24-hour runs, but it was “trying to impress a girl” which got him into the really long events.
“I decided to sign-up for the longest race I could find on UltraSignUp,” he laughed.
“And so that's how I ended up signing-up for my first HOTS run back in 2022. I think it was 347 miles.”
HOTS is typical of the races produced by its founder, Cantrell, whose Barkley Marathons creation has spawned documentaries such as ‘The Race That Eats Its Young’ and ‘Where Dreams Go To Die’.
Described as “an adventure for only the most daring,” HOTS sees runners assemble in a cornfield at the top of Sand Mountain in North Georgia.
From there they board tour buses and head to their destination, between 300 and 400 miles away. Only then will they be given access to maps of the course to get them back to that now distant cornfield - with 10 days to do so.
Apparently, Cantrell created the race after a technical glitch allowed too many people to register for one of his events, and he needed to accommodate the overflow.
It probably says something about Addison that it is his favourite race and one he has run in each of the last three years.
Before he took it on for the first time, he hadn’t run further than his 130 mile high school record, but he said nothing can really prepare anyone to take on self-supported races over huge distances.
He said: “I probably had 20, maybe 25, 50 k's or 50- and 100- milers under my belt at that time, but when you break into the realm of running self-supported races of that distance, you don’t really know anything.
“You can research, you can study, you can ask veterans questions, but it becomes a long, tedious process that takes years of trial and error to find out what works for you.
“You can't even carry enough gels to last that long, so you've got to start eating normal food or at least gas station food. You’ve got to find out what works for you. How much water can you survive on between towns? How much food do you need? How much sleep do you need? When do you sleep? Where do you sleep?”
Those factors were all vital elements of the ultra running craft that Addison hadn’t mastered the first time he took on HOTS.
After just 30 miles he found himself suffering from blisters and only 60-miles in the bladder of his CamelBak split, meaning he had to carry two bottles on top of each other while running.
But despite those setbacks, Addison finished the race and he’s not looked back.
‘You can’t quit’ - How Lazarus Lake and Carl Laniak pushed Addison to HOTS glory:
Six days, six hours and 25 minutes. That’s a lot of time on your feet.
It’s also the time Addison Hendricks took to win this year’s HOTS in June. As such, he was named the ‘Queen of the South,’ a title bestowed upon the race’s winners on the behest of inaugural victor, Beverly Anderson-Abbs, in 2020.
When spending that much time racing, there are plenty of ups and downs runners have to go through, particularly if they are taking part in a Gary Cantrell race.
“I don't want to say Gary's sick in the head but he's definitely twisted,” Addison said. “He makes these races as hard as he can.”
During the event, Addison said it was so hot “I wanted to call my mom and apologise because I thought I was in trouble for something”.
After 17 miles, he was being sick by the side of the road and other runners were dropping out all over the course.
“There was a bunch of tears and crying and hardships that went on during the race. Actually I tried to drop out at mile 76.
“I called Carl [Laniak, Cantrell’s right hand man], one of the race directors, and I told him I wanted to quit and he hung up on me.
“And so I called him back and I was like, ‘did you hang up on me?’ He said, ‘Addison, we have other people to worry about. Figure it out’.
“I was seriously angry because I was thinking, ‘am I not allowed to hurt? Can I not be in pain?’ I'm glad he didn't let me quit because I ended up winning, but I was legitimately upset when he hung up on me and told me just like to work through whatever I was dealing with.”
Eventually, Addison beat off competition from John Clarke, who had won the event in 2022, to take first place.
“We raced the last 50 miles and I genuinely don't recall more than, maybe, two hours of that run,” Addison said.
“I was probably running for five or six hours in the dark. I don't remember that.
“I was thinking John was right behind me. Every quarter of a mile I was looking over my shoulder, checking my watch.
“We only had like eight miles ago at that point. So, I just started hauling ass.
“The last road you run on is called The Cheese Grater road, because it's about two miles of a one-way road and it’s just horrible. I was flying down The Cheese Grater and entered the cornfield with about a mile to go.
“And I was still looking behind me. Where's John Clark? Where's John Clark? And I got to the end. I was the first one there. And, man it felt good.”
‘I've broken down crying, I've seen grown men crying, women crying’.
Aside from winning HOTS, Addison has also run the Cowboy 200 three times and came second in the Vol State 500km Race this year.
He is the only person who has completed all three Cowboy 200 events: “For me, that's cool because you hear about people that have run the Boston Marathon or New York Marathon every single year, and how every year the group gets smaller and smaller. But, at year four, I'm already the only person that's been there [at Cowboy] every time.”
His second position at Vol State is also a source of pride as it ties the best effort for the double of Vol and HOTS, with the events taking place just weeks apart.
Addison has also raced in the Barkley Fall Classic, the baby brother of the infamous Barkley Marathons, which takes place at the same Frozen Head State Park venue.
So, does he have any hopes of joining Cantrell for his most notorious race. Addison’s ‘who knows?’ answer has something of the spirit of that event about it.
The Barkley Marathons is limited to 40 runners and has an elaborate and secretive entry system, which includes writing a letter stating, "Why I Should be Allowed to Run in the Barkley”.
“Barkley Fall Classic is more public domain and the Barkley is a terribly kept secret,” Addison said.
“But no matter how terrible the secret is, it's still hard to get in, even if you know the steps and various other things you have to do to even be considered.”
Although only 20 people have finished the race in 38 years, Addison believes he would have a chance if he ever did manage to work his way through the entry puzzle.
“I’d probably go out there in year one, if I ever got in, and really get humbled, get my ass handed to me,” he said.
“And that would probably spark the fire and make me think, ‘I got to get my head down and focus because I'm coming back with a vengeance’.
“Those who do it usually take two or three attempts.”
Addison believes that kind of mental fortitude is central to being a successful runner: “It’s all about how you approach it. To me, one mile might as well be 100 miles. It's just a couple more steps.”
He said race day sees him change from someone who is “pretty goofy and loud” into an entirely different person.
“I'm not talking to anyone. I'm there to do a job come race day. We can chit-chat, but we're not about to start talking about how far we've gone or how far we have to go. I don't want to hear any of that.”
Part of that serious attitude comes from a desire to win whatever race he takes on, but it is also the result of knowing how hard it is to run races over 200, 300 or even 400-mile distances - and how easy it can be to drop out.
“With the races I do, usually there's a couple of designated people whose number you can call and they'll come and get you,” he said.
“So, if you end up on a 10 mile round-trip in the wrong direction and you're 200 miles in, you're hungry, you're thirsty, and now you got 10, 20 miles until the next guaranteed aid, then it is easy to make that call.
“I've broken down crying, I've seen grown men crying, women crying. It can get very mentally challenging out there.”
Addison said while there can be camaraderie even among elite ultra runners, ultimately the aim is to win.
“I've travelled in packs of runners,” he said, “which I don't think is a bad thing but at the end of the day I'm there for a race and some people tend to forget that.
“We're not going to all hold hands and sing Kumbaya at the end. There can only be one winner.
“I'll run with a group or a pack, but at the point where it's more of a detriment than a benefit, I'm out of there.”
One strategy he employs when taking on ‘journey’ runs, is to concentrate purely on reaching the next town on the route, forgetting there are often hundreds and hundreds of miles to go.
“It's no way to live when you're racing like that,” he told Running Tales. “With the little sleep that you get, and the little food or water, it's no way to live for long. You just can't.
“The strategy I use and love is that I don't care about anything except getting to the next town. I don't care how far I've gone, I don't care how many miles are left in total. All I care about is, ‘how far is in next town.’ I just want to get to that town.
“And once I get to that town, let's get to the next town. That's all I care about. You can't run a 400 mile race, be at mile 63 and say, okay, I got 337 miles left.
“I like to think, ‘all right, I'm in town A, town B is 19 miles away. I can run 19 miles’.”
Why paying thousands to run is ‘the silliest shit’:
There is, however, one factor which might persuade Addison not to even set out in search of that next town - the spiralling cost of entry to supposedly flagship ultra events.
He said he has no desire to take on those races which come with “payment plans,” adding: “That's the silliest shit I've ever heard in my life. Charging people through payment plans to go and run a race.
“People have got to make money, sure. If you can show me your math and justify charging $2,500 for a 200 mile run, then we'll talk.
“So, the Moab races, Western States, Hardrock and even Badwater - and this is just my opinion - they seem very media covered, it seems flashy.
“I don't have a desire to do them. Come Badwater time, I always see the photo ops and people taking tonnes of pictures and I think, ‘man, don’t you all have the race to get ready for?’
“When you break it down to its core, I think the majority of people would like to think that running is supposed to be free.
“Anyone can just go and run. But when you start putting these ridiculous prices on it, it seems fucked up.
“I get it, I'm a business owner. But at what point do we say enough is enough? And if they gave me a free entry, I would still not go because I don't want to be another number on their results list.
“I don't want to support the behaviour, because when people agree to pay these prices, what's to stop other people from jacking up their prices?
“We talk about this stuff like, ‘hey mate, did you see, that new 300 mile run in whatever town? I think I'm going to sign up tonight’.
“I'll get on UltraSignUp, and they'll be, ‘all right, that'll be $3,100’. I'm thinking, ‘well, I'm not doing this’.”
Watch and listen to Addison on the Running Tales Podcast:
Watch on Facebook, Instagram or on YouTube.
Listen on Spotify and Apple Podcasts.
Support Running Tales:
Please help us keep producing Running Tales across Substack and in podcast form:
