Each February, tucked away in the tiny Mexican town of Urique, there is a race known as the Copper Canyon Ultra Marathon, inspired by the one locals call “Caballo Blanco.” His name is Micah True, and his Race for Life in 2012 would ultimately become his last.

The nearly six minute story tells the story of the Tarahumaras, locals who compete against foreigners from far and wide in the 80 kilometer marathon. Known locally as the Caballo Blanco ultramarathon for the foreigner who founded it, the marathon is a opportunity for foreigners to run with the locals, and for the foreigners, a chance to win food based on the distance they complete. In a town going on a two year drought (at the time of the report), that food, as the narration puts it, could be the difference between life and death.

From the beginning, when the Norwegian-speaking narrator (accompanied by English subtitles) hints at True’s last race, I was hooked. The natural sound of a Mexican band wafts into the story as the viewer is taken on a picturesque train ride through the country to Urique. A combination of still photos and scene-setting video gave me an idea of the size and scope of the mountain range and the marathon itself, before we finally reach the bulk of the story, which included both True, and the competition.

I was overcome with amazement and admiration when I saw what went into participating in the 80 kilometer race. Watched the competitors sprint through the Copper Canyon with shots at varying distances (some strikingly beautiful in a cinematic overhead view, others from a captivating point of view angle), I was stunned at how daunting their trek often appeared to be.

The video portions of the story are tremendous. From the cinematic point of view train ride to the harsh huffing-and-puffing of racers as they wind along the route, I often felt like I was accompanying them on their journey. As the kilometers stretch on and the contestants bow out, the still photos capturing the agony and exhaustion of the marathon’s racers documents the emotion in an impressive and visually appealing fashion.

Though I wasn’t a huge fan of having to read subtitles (as it took away from my appreciation for the visual aspects), it wasn’t bothersome, and the segues taken from interviews with True and Urique resident Mickey Mahaffey are well-done. The narration adds context, but it’s True, with his carefree disposition but genuine concern for the marathon’s participants, who truly makes the story come alive.

Ultimately, the nat sound goes a long way toward making it feel real. The Mexican mariachi band takes us to Urique, the sounds of the canyon carry us through the race, and as the final image of True wading into the water is accompanied by the sound of it, we find out that he passed away on a trek through the New Mexican wilderness, which left me as cold and empty as the piercing silence that follows.