Stepping Into the Unknown

Philipp Ausserhofer, known as “The Flying Flip,” is a professional ultra trail runner from South Tyrol, Italy. Born and raised in the mountainous region of Ahrntal, he developed a deep passion for the mountains from a young age.

Philipp’s philosophy, encapsulated by the motto “Dream and Dare,” reflects his belief in pursuing one’s passions with humility, courage, hard work, and dedication.

The mountains of South Tyrol are known for their rugged beauty. How did growing up in such wild terrain shape your mindset as a runner, especially when facing tough, technical courses like Kaçkar?

Growing up in South Tyrol, the mountains weren’t just a backdrop, they were a playground, a teacher, and sometimes a challenge I had to earn respect from. The terrain is wild and demanding, and you learn early on that nature doesn’t care about your comfort zone. That’s probably where I developed this fascination with technical trails. It’s not just about speed, it’s about reading the terrain, adapting on the fly, and staying humble no matter how strong you feel. The Kaçkar Mountains, with their raw, remote nature, speak that same language. It’s where I feel most alive.

You’ve conquered incredibly tough races like the Mozart 100 and finished 2nd at Val d’Aran by UTMB. What makes a course truly challenging for you—and how does Kaçkar compare?

A course becomes truly challenging when it doesn’t give you anything for free. It's the combination of technical difficulty, elevation gain, unpredictable weather, and mental isolation that breaks you down, and forces you to rebuild yourself mid-race. Val d’Aran tested my endurance and focus. Mozart 100 was a mix of speed and strategy. But Kaçkar? It feels like a different „beast". It’s remote, wild, and unapologetically raw. It’s not just a race track, it feels like an adventure is waiting. And that makes it incredibly exciting. Can’t wait to race there for the first time.

In ultra-distance races with extreme elevation and unpredictable terrain, how do you keep pushing when your body says stop?

That’s the moment I actually train for. Physical preparation is essential, but when your legs are done and the tank feels empty, it’s your mindset that keeps you moving. I always remind myself: I chose this. I’m here to find that edge, to figure out where my limits really are. And often, when it feels like I’ve hit the wall, I realize there’s more left. You just have to be willing to dig deep and keep believing. Sometimes, it’s enough to take one more step - and the rest follows.

In the end, it comes down to one thing: your why. You need to know exactly why you’re out there—why you’re willing to suffer, to fight, to keep going. That answer is the strongest source of motivation. When things get really hard, it’s not your legs that carry you, it’s your purpose.

Trail running in the mountains can throw anything at you—weather, altitude, terrain. Can you share a moment when everything went wrong, and how you turned it around?

One of the rawest moments for me was during the HOMERUN project. I found myself trapped between two thunderstorms, sitting in an old shelter, freezing cold, in total darkness – except for the flashes of lightning tearing through the sky. That night, thunder lit up the mountains and made everything else feel small. I had to stop. And in that moment, I realized that if you look at it in numbers – pace, distance, execution – I had failed as an athlete.

But that night also shifted something deeper. I grew—not just as a runner, but as a person. I understood that this sport is about so much more than kilometers or pacing strategies. It’s about presence, resilience, and how you respond when nature reminds you who's really in control. That moment taught me humility and reinforced why I do this in the first place.

As someone who has seen the toughest trails in Europe, what excites you most about tackling the unknown in Kaçkar? What kind of runner do you think is ready for a race like this?

I first went to Kaçkar in 2024: to scout, to explore, and to get a feel for the place. And even then, it left a deep impression. It’s a region that feels untouched, almost ancient in its rawness. The trails are technical and remote, the landscapes dramatic and wild. What excites me is that sense of stepping into something real - something that’s not been shaped or softened by modern racing culture.

This is a race for the curious. For runners who don’t just want a finish line, but an experience. It’s for those who don’t mind getting uncomfortable, who understand that adventure often begins where predictability ends. If you’re that kind of runner - ready to meet the mountains on their terms, then Kaçkar will be unforgettable.