The first weekend of summer holidays transforms the Slovenian town of Tolmin into an outdoor sports paradise. Nestled between the iconic Soča River and towering mountain ranges, the entire weekend revolves around the natural elements of water and mountains. But this isn’t just about running and Nordic walking—there are mountain bike races, river competitions featuring all sorts of floating contraptions, events for athletes with disabilities, paragliding contests, and even an 8 km road cycling climb with a brutal 880-meter elevation gain. (Now I understand why Slovenians dominate mountain cycling!) The scale of the event is impressive, with over 2,000 participants just across the various running distances.
Thanks to Slovak Ultra Trail, I secured an entry for the “I Feel Slovenia” race—52 km with 2,400 meters of elevation gain. The event also offers distances of 10, 15, 25, and 35 km, all sharing segments of the route but each with its own unique challenges. I was especially curious to see how the organizers would manage such a complex, interwoven course.
Arrival in Tolmin: Pre-Race Jitters
On Friday, after picking up my kids’ school reports, we packed up the car and hit the road—550 km to Most na Soči, our home base for the week. My family has long accepted that our vacations are planned around my race schedule.
On the way, we stopped to collect my race bib, where I immediately sensed the grand scale of the event. The forecast called for rain in the morning and throughout the race, which suited me just fine—cool, cloudy weather is much better than heat and humidity.
Race morning arrived early. With a 6:30 AM start, my alarm rang mercilessly at 4:00 AM. Peeking outside, I was thrilled to see rain pouring down. Perfect! I threw on my rainproof shirt, packed my mandatory jacket into my vest, and started my 5 km walk along the Soča River toward Tolmin. A good warm-up before the real fun began.
I Feel Slovenia. At the start line, the energy was electric. I scanned my fellow competitors—each one looking like they had won UTMB last year. The rain stopped, and suddenly, it was humid. I regretted not wearing a lighter shirt but had too much respect for the mountains ahead to make any last-minute wardrobe changes.
The Race Begins: Up, Down, and All Around
Like any other ultra, the top 20 runners bolted from the start like it was a 10K road race. I was used to this. Knowing the heat and humidity would only get worse, I stuck to my planned pace.
We quickly hit the first climb—Senica. It was brutal. Within minutes, I was power-hiking, and in some sections, even scrambling on all fours. Oh, great. A shock start. This was going to be a long day.
For a while, I played leapfrog with a tiny but fierce female runner—she’d overtake me on the climbs, I’d pass her on the descents. Weight does help when heading downhill. Later, I learned she was Anna Szöcs from Hungary, and at the finish line, she’d put 20 minutes on me. Respect.
Through Misty Peaks and Slippery Descents
Reaching a scenic viewpoint, I caught a breathtaking glimpse of the Soča River winding through mist-covered mountains. Then came a steep, technical descent into Most na Soči. My quads screamed in protest, my shoes slipped on wet limestone and roots, and every second step sent me into an uncontrolled slide. By the time I reached the valley, I felt like I had descended from Everest.
Passing by our still-sleeping house, I reached the first aid station and quickly refueled. The course map suggested a flat section along the river. Well, that was a lie. The elevation profile had clearly been drawn by a comedian. The “flat” section quickly turned into another steep climb—at least shorter than the first.
The route then led through half-caves and wartime bunkers, remnants of World War I. Some sections were pitch black, making me rely on the sound of footsteps ahead to stay on course.
The Big Climb: Mt. Pretovč (1,100m up!)
Approaching the longest climb of the race, I drained both bottles before the checkpoint. Time to refill—this was going to be a slog.
I latched onto a group of three guys who looked just as miserable as I felt. But as we gained elevation, the air cooled, and I suddenly felt rejuvenated. I pulled ahead, fueled by “runner’s high”, absorbing the stunning scenery—waterfalls, canyons, rock formations. Finally, it looked and felt like the Alps.
A volunteer assured me: “Just a bit more, and you’ll reach the plateau.” LIES. The climb dragged on forever—20 switchbacks later, I was still cursing those volunteers under my breath. But eventually, I reached the top, rewarded with mind-blowing views.
The Endless Descent: Pain and Suffering
I looked forward to the downhill, but again, the elevation profile had lied. The entire 1,100 meters of gain had to be lost—but in half the distance. That meant one thing: an insanely steep descent.
It was brutal. My stabilizers were toast, my quads had left the chat. Every step was agony. Even on my longest races, I never wished for a descent to end so badly.
Finally, the ground leveled out, leading onto paved roads into Tolmin. The heat now became my worst enemy, and I fought to stay cool.
The Tolmin Gorge: A Tourist Obstacle Course
With only a few kilometers to go, the course led through Tolmin Gorge, one of the area’s biggest tourist attractions. That meant one thing—crowds.
A park ranger let us skip the ticket booth, but dodging tourists was an unexpected challenge. I muttered more “sorry” and “thank you” in those 10 minutes than I had in my entire life. The worst part? A rope bridge jammed with frozen tourists—two women refusing to move as 20 runners waited on either side. No time for patience. I charged across, ignoring their screams, and bolted up the next climb.
The Final Surprise: The River Crossing
I had been looking forward to the famous finish-line river crossing—a shallow ankle-deep splash through the Tolminka River.
Except it had rained heavily the night before.
Standing at the riverbank, I watched runners grip the safety rope for dear life, water up to their chests.
Three seconds later, I was clutching the rope just as desperately, half-submerged in 9-degree Celsius water. It was the best ice bath ever.
Crawling out of the river, I sprinted the last meters to the finish line—5:57. 13th place overall, 5th in my category. I was beyond happy.
I Feel Slovenia: Final Thoughts
Slovak Ultra Trail SUT gave me the opportunity to race an event of world-class caliber, and I couldn’t be more grateful. The organization was flawless, the course breathtaking, and Slovenia never disappoints.
Would I do it again? Absolutely. But next time, maybe I’ll check the weather forecast before planning my grand river crossing finale.
