It was an overcast morning. The sun still hadn’t quite risen over the Twin Buttes in San Angelo, TX. Even then, some of the runners at the Orange Theory Dino Run 2025 had already been moving for nearly two hours into their six-hour efforts. Others had been circling the course since 7pm the night before.
As these long-distance runners continued their quiet acts of endurance, new waves of racers began arriving for their events: the four-hour, two-hour, 10k, and 5k distances.
The morning was chilly, so there was plenty of warming up to be done. Runners stretched out stiff muscles, shook out nerves, and grabbed one more carb-loaded snack to fuel the miles ahead.
Once the four- and two-hour runners were sent off to see how many 5k loops they could complete within their time limits, the large crowd of 5k and 10k runners lined up for their start.
I positioned myself just inside the first turn to capture the group as they came through. My only regret? Not taking a few slow-shutter shots. I’ve been wanting to experiment more with motion blur, but sometimes the moment moves faster than the plan. Oh well.
After they cleared the first section of the course, I hopped into the truck and drove to a turn where the reservoir would give a nice backdrop. I set up low on the ground to get the hero angle — shooting upward to emphasize the power and achievement of each runner.
A lot of them gave me thumbs-up as they passed. Some did a little dance. Others waved and said hello. One woman stopped entirely to ask if I was okay before realizing I was lying on the ground intentionally with a camera in my hands. Later I learned she was the mother of one of the 24-hour runners. Her concern in the middle of her own race was incredibly kind.
After I felt confident that I’d captured most runners at least once, I walked farther up the trail for a new angle. At that point, I was mostly photographing the endurance runners. Some were still having fun — like this gentleman from my church, who jumped for the camera nearly four hours into the race.
Others were reaching the edge of what they thought they could do. One runner passed me and said, almost defeated, “I’ve never run this far in my life. I don’t think I can do it.”
Little did he know, he already had. He had just set a personal record — whether by one minute or two hours — and had accomplished something he once thought was out of reach. That’s something we often forget in endurance: the win isn’t only in finishing. Sometimes the win is in realizing you’ve already gone farther than you ever believed you could.
Eventually, I made my way back to the finish line. Some runners sprinted across. Some barely shuffled over. And one man lifted his children into his arms and carried them with him across the line. As a father, that moment hit me deeply.
One of the things I love most about photographing running events is the overwhelming sense of community. Every step along the trail echoed with cheers, encouragement, and kindness. No one was left behind.
And I’m grateful I got to capture all of it.
See a few highlights below or see the whole gallery HERE.
