Who Is Courtney Dauwalter’s New Ultramarathon Partner? It’s Her Mom.
Here‘s how the Dauwalter duo completed a dream of crossing a finish line together
The last loop was quiet beneath the full moon. Their shuffling feet on the packed, pebble-tossed singletrack punctuated the sleeping Sonoran Desert as the duo moved through shadows of saguaro cactus and prickly pear. Millions of white pinpoints began to appear in the dark sky.
That’s when 66-year-old Tracy Dauwalter, mother of ultrarunner Courtney Dauwalter—who was coming off of historic back-to-back-to-back 100-mile wins of the 2023 Western States 100, Hardrock 100, and UTMB, including two course records—started resharing doubts with her daughter, who kindly reminded Tracy many times throughout the last 13 hours, “that’s not useful thinking, so let’s not think it.”
Occasionally, Courtney would redirect their attention, pointing out this unique section of the course that they’d been past twice before. This time, she built a 60-second container to stuff all those fears inside.
“Tell me all of your doubts and frustrations. You have one minute,” Courtney told her mom. “Once you finish, you can’t complain out loud anymore. It’s not serving us to get to this finish line.”
Tracy spewed all of her negative thoughts, from her rolling stomach to her aching muscles, which was an important reset to get out of the whirlpool of heavy thoughts. I signed up for this, Tracy humbly reminded herself. Nobody’s making me do this.
A dedicated team, the pair was running three loops side-by-side in matching long running shorts, white baggy tees, Salomon hydration vests, and cactus-themed socks, at the Halloween-themed Javelina Jundred 100K race. The ultrarunning event is held the closing weekend of October in the McDowell Mountain Regional Park, an hour northeast of Phoenix, Arizona. Temperatures can climb into the 90s by mid-morning and dip into the low 50s once daylight disappears behind the McDowell Mountain Range.
Now 38 years old and living in Leadville, Colorado, Courtney had participated in the event once before, in 2016, when she was the race’s outright winner. She set the then-course record for the 100K, one of several performances that drew national attention to her astonishing endurance and athleticism.
Tracy, who’d just recently started trail running, had covered ultra-distances at 12- and 24-hour events across flat gravel, but had never before run this far on a trail. They selected Javelina’s rolling 100K with 3,924 feet of vertical gain. The majority of the climbing is packed into the gradual ascent from the Javelina “Jeadquarters” aid station, which serves as the start and finish of the race and basecamp, to the far side of the loop, Jackass Junction.
It was exactly here, at this midway point, after slogging up the final climb over rolling hardened granite and sandy washes, where Tracy had a sticking point. Fortunately, Courtney was there to fill up her water bottles and point out all the tasty options when they reached the runner’s buffet.
“Please keep eating,” she said, as the electronic dance music bumped. A few hours earlier, they enjoyed a surprise pick-me-up of McDonald’s cheeseburgers, delivered by crew masters Dick Dauwalter, Courtney’s dad, and Kevin Schmidt, her husband. But one of the biggest highlights during the race for Tracy was watching Courtney interact and commune with so many people in the trail running community.
“Courtney does this amazing sport, but even more, I adore the person she is. It’s one of my favorite things to watch the love that’s out there for Courtney, and the way she responds. To be in that world with her was really special,” Tracy said. “She was also really kind to me, even when I was frumping and I’d fall down, she’d help pick me up.” Courtney let out a laugh.
“Mom, you only fell one time!” said Courtney, laughing.
“I know, but it was embarrassing,” Tracy said.
While Javelina was the mother-daughter’s debut trail ultra finish, side-by-side, the experience wasn’t their first race together. When Courtney was in high school, the duo finished a rollerblade marathon together in St. Paul. (Rollerblading is a major pastime in Minnesota, where Tracy grew up and still lives today.) Here, she met Dick and raised Courtney, a middle-child to two brothers.
While growing up, Tracy played softball and badminton. In college, she ran cross-country and track. “I’ve always been interested in sports and done them at a level that I could make the team. I was never a star. Being on a team is social and taxes your body while working up a sweat,” she said.
When the kids were interested in soccer, she and Dick organized an adult co-ed squad. Now, she jogs, plays volleyball, and golfs. She and Dick enjoy motorcycle tours, too, like venturing through the Elk Mountains in Colorado. “I’m not great at anything, but I can hold my own, and it’s super fun—I’m willing to do any sport,” she said. The motto was much the same for the kids.
"I thought that it would be so cool to share this sport that I love so much with this person I love so much. I knew she could do it.”
“They could try any activity. But once they committed, they had to see that season through—whether they enjoyed it or not, we were committed. We didn’t miss practices or games. We made sure those were a high priority for them and us. That drove our lives for many years with lots of fun times, but boy, that schedule was crazy—we’d slam-dunk dinner at 4 P.M. so that everybody could get to practice,” Tracy said.
An accountability mindset is one that leads to showing up in other areas of life from work to class to chores, following through on responsibilities and gritting out less desirable tasks. “When things get hard, like college classes, your option is not to quit,” Tracy said. “You dig in a little deeper, get help, and get it done, which is the same with any sport.”
But perhaps their most special ingredient is that the Dauwalters know how to have fun. “Having fun while doing those things is just as important,” Courtney said. “Our family always worked hard, but we play hard, too. All of that combined is what makes life special. Having that be deeply ingrained in who I am helps me in everyday life, but also, for sure, in ultrarunning.”
While watching Courtney grow up, Tracy noticed her daughter had a deep motivation as a person and athlete. One of her earliest memories was two-year-old Courtney, who could barely walk, repeatedly riding a Big Wheel tricycle downhill with a group of kids and insisting she’d wrestle the bike up the hill by herself. As a kid, Courtney and her siblings played soccer, often on the same teams. Later, they ran high school cross-country and track. To fill the winter months, she tried basketball, but she had a propensity to quickly foul out, taking the bench for the remainder of the game.
One day, she came home with a bright idea to Nordic ski instead, which was foreign for a family full of downhillers. They picked up the equipment, Courtney joined a competitive team, and she practiced in nearby school fields. “All she did was wipe out. All the time. Dick and I are thinking, ‘I wonder what this is going to look like?’” said Tracy.
During those foundational years, Courtney would rush home after a Nordic race to report the number of crashes she’d had. “In a 5K, I would be psyched if I only crashed nine times—tripping, planting my poles, tumbling the entire time. I was so bad,” she said.
But Tracy bought a beat-up pair of cross-country skis and started to practice alongside Courtney. “We learned together,” Tracy said. “It was more fun to crash with somebody than to crash by yourself.”
By the time Courtney graduated, she was an all-state runner and had earned All-American honors as a Nordic skier three times. She was a four-time state champion, and her team acquired two national championships. In 2003, Courtney moved west to Colorado, where she raced collegiately on the Nordic ski team at the University of Denver. Three years in, her DU team won 11 meets and the 2005 NCAA Championship.
“Courtney was really good at everything she did, and it wasn’t because she was a natural,” Tracy said. “Anytime she tried a sport, she didn’t have an immediate knack for it, but she hung in there to develop it. She was a hard worker and determined.”
Years later, in 2015, any remaining questions of physical stamina were laid aside—for both Tracy and Courtney, who proved to have a serious knack for endurance. Courtney broke the ribbon at her inaugural ultra race, the 2011 Prickly Pear 50K in San Antonio, Texas, and her curiosity about wanting to run longer continued to grow. The following year, she dropped out of the Colorado’s Run Rabbit Run 100 Mile race at mile 60 with throbbing legs, questioning her ability to cover that much ground in a single push.
Frustrated by not meeting her goal, Courtney registered for her first 24-hour race, the 2013 FANS Ultra Races, a more manageable format than an ultra on singletrack. Her family joined to crew and run laps, providing entertainment and support, including Tracy. They didn’t have much of a background in ultras and were green to any strategy.
Regardless, Courtney wrapped a total of 105 miles on that two-mile gravel loop around Lake Normandale Park in Bloomington, Minnesota, completing her first non-trail century-distance, and gaining confidence. Two months later, she crossed the finish line of the Superior Fall Trail Race 100 Miler in Lutsen, Minnesota, her first 100-mile distance on trail, and stood on the podium for second place.
Moving forward, the FANS Ultra Races became a family tradition. Courtney returned to the 2014 event, besting her first summer with 123.6 miles. Tracy decided, if she was going to crew and run laps with Courtney, she might as well sign up herself.
“She was like, ‘Heck, I’m going to spend the whole day out there anyways. Why not put some time on my feet?’” Courtney recalled.
In 2015, she tallied 109.2 miles while her mom, then 57 years old, covered 66.8 miles. Their annual pilgrimage continued in the 24- or 12-hour format, over the next several summers, coinciding with Courtney’s ultrarunning career picking up steam. She won the 2016 Run Rabbit Run 100 Mile with a 75-minute lead, and along with the title, the world’s largest ultra purse: $12,000.
By the summer of 2017, she retired from her position at the Girls Athletic Leadership School in Denver where she taught science and coached cross-country. “In an interview a few years ago,” Courtney said. “I was asked if I could run an ultramarathon with anyone in the world, who would it be? ‘My mom,’ I said. I thought that it would be so cool to share this sport that I love so much with this person I love so much. I knew she could do it.”
In an interview a few years ago, she was asked, if she could run an ultramarathon with anyone in the world, who would it be? “My mom,” she said. “I thought that it would be so cool to share this sport that I love so much with this person I love so much. I knew she could do it.”
Tracy heard the recording and, despite having never run on trails, she immediately called her daughter. “Let’s do it. I heard you want to run an ultra, so let’s sign up for something,” she said to Courtney. “If someone puts a challenge in front of me, it can even be pretty insane, and I’m a sucker for trying to rise to that challenge.” In addition to the competitive spark, the invitation felt sentimental.
Committed to doing an ultra together, they accepted that it might be a winding road to get there. The two picked the 2022 50-mile Superior Fall Trail Race in Lutsen. Mid-route, they missed the cut-off. Tracy shrugged and shook her head recounting the unfinished event. Courtney refused to let the DNF be a negative thing. “You learned so much in that first summer, mom,” she told her. “Dialing in all of those pieces helped immensely this year. And we decided, we’re not done. We still need a finish line together.”
As soon as registration opened in January, the duo signed up for the 2023 Javelina Jundred 100K. “I was nervous coming into this race because I was bouncing off of that epic fail of the first 50-miler we tried, which was a wake-up call. You have to prepare yourself,” said Tracy.
“It was not an epic fail,” Courtney countered.
That winter, Tracy clocked workouts on a treadmill. From April onward, she ran outside four or five days a week for 10 to 20 miles. Courtney researched singletrack trails around Lone Lake, which her mom became excited to explore. One of the biggest challenges of learning to run on trails is her tendency to shuffle and trip, Tracy confessed. Building confidence, she finished the Willow 20 Miler in May and Afton Trail Run 50K in July. Like her daughter, Tracy didn’t keep a close log of her mileage, and her training was not systematic.
Courtney’s advice, true and simple, rang in her mind: Spend time on your feet.
“People asked me if I coached her. Absolutely not,” Courtney said. “I did try to be helpful—harping on testing nutrition, wearing a pack so that her body gets used to one, and hiking uphills—so her race day could be much better. She was the one putting in the work and figuring out routes where she could do laps or get on hills. I admired from afar.”
“It helped that Courtney kept reminding me, ‘This was our run together, our race, and it could look however we could make it.’ If I crawled, that wouldn’t be disgusting. It got ugly, then it got not ugly,” Tracy added.
Staying lighthearted, Courtney countered, “It never got ugly. There was never a doubt that we would make it to the finish.”
Fortunately, the elation did come around. Next to her daughter, Tracy crossed the finish line of Javelina Jundred 100K in 17 hours and 38 minutes with a smile in the glowing lights, after staying up into the night running, eating, and sharing pain—but mostly, laughing—with her daughter. They’d gone full circle together, both on the circuit they’d traveled in the desert as well as in life.
“I think you beat me by, like, a half-second, mom,” Courtney said.
“I know,” Tracy bantered back. “I think I was really needing to be done, so I rushed with a half-second sprint.”
posted Sunday December 3rd
by Outside Online