Running News Daily

It’s a perfectly normal question to ask someone, I just wasn’t the right person to ask. I had been chugging up the trail at about mile 22 or so of the race, trying to push myself but also pace myself, and in my own head because I’d only seen three or four people in the last 45 minutes or so. The guy was hiking downhill, getting out before the Saturday heat really warmed things up, and I had made a little room as I passed him hiking the other direction, trying to get up Tiger Mountain for the last time. We’d said hello, and then he asked,

“How far to the Section Line Trail?”

I rounded the switchback and confidently said, “Oh, I don’t know,” and he seemed a little surprised that I didn’t know, pausing for a second with a somewhat quizzical look on his face. So I added, “This is my first time here,” hoping that would help him understand. It was true, kind of. If I’d felt like I had more time to stop and chat, I might have added a few more bits of information:

> I am participating in an ultramarathon trail race called the Tiger Claw 50K > I have never set foot on this mountain before today, May 13th, 2023 > This is my third trip to the summit of West Tiger #2, and finally, > Hey man, I’m just following these pink flags till I see people with pitchers of electrolyte drink and trays of Oreos standing under an EZ-up at the top. I’m not paying attention to the trail names, the distances, or the intersections, I’m barely looking at the scenery. My goals today are:

a) Survive this race despite the 88-degree temperature and 70 percent humidity and b) Produce urine that isn’t the color of a No Passing Zone sign by midnight tonight

I hope that man found his way and is not still out there looking for the Section Line Trail.

Another question someone asked me, the day before the Tiger Claw: “Why did you pick that race? Isn’t it just kind of a local thing?”

I got really out of shape in 2022—spinal disc injury, new baby, sleep deprivation from helping take care of a new baby, and another back/hip injury. I was starting to wonder if at 43, I was hitting some sort of downhill slope in life. I turned 44 this winter, and was determined. Not to return to any sort of athletic glory, no, but to avoid going to the emergency room again after herniating a disc while picking up a dog because I sit on my ass 40 hours a week, and inside my regular-sized middle-aged man body is a smaller man who loves to eat emotionally and is also super fucking lazy.

So I started looking on UltraSignup for 2023 races near western Montana, and thought

Three summits of West Tiger #2 (elevation 2,757 feet), returning to the High Point Trailhead (elevation 527) each time. For a total of “nearly 9,000 feet of elevation gain,” per the Tiger Claw website. If you are looking for a fast, flat race to help you get your PR for the 50K distance, the Tiger Claw is not it.

This, I was afraid, would call for drastic measures: I was going to have to learn to do something I have always been terrible at doing: drink a responsible amount of fluids. This was almost too much to ask, I thought. Maybe I should bail. DNS: Did Not Start. Reason: Not good at drinking water.

The White Loop was the steepest. Ethan’s final email to participants the previous day had said the Pink Loop would stay in the shade into the afternoon. I had decided to go White (steepest, least fun) first, Yellow (longest, most meandering) second, and Pink (afternoon shade). I chugged down a 17-ounce water bottle in the final minutes before the start and stuffed it in my vest.

The first 4.6 miles wound around in the forest with a couple ups and downs, gradually climbing a few hundred feet to get us to the lower aid station, where we’d split up into our respective loops and go on our way. I had put a small drop bag at the lower aid station, as we’d all return here after each of our three ascents and descents of West Tiger 2. I packed my drop mag pretty minimally because after I finished my final lap, I planned to stuff whatever was left of it into my vest for the final three miles to the finish line, so I didn’t have to drive back to get it after the race.

I filled one water bottle at the aid station and ran on, splitting off to do the White Loop, 2.8 miles, 2,800 feet of climbing to the upper aid station/turnaround. I had no ambitions to do a fast first lap, but ran some of the less-steep sections and hiked the rest. Less than a mile into the White Loop, I was alone in the forest, so I pulled over to pee. Just as I was finishing, Krissy Moehl, who is a very famous ultrarunner, hiked past a few feet away, which is sort of an awkward moment to introduce yourself, but I did it anyway, because we have a mutual friend, and then we ended up hiking together for the rest of the ascent. This is not to say that I am as fast as a person who won the UTMB in 2003 and 2009; more like Krissy was not in a hurry on the race course.

With a couple other guys, we jogged a few short sections of the trail, but mostly hiked at a good clip to the upper aid station, arriving at about 1 hour and 45 minutes. I got my water bottles refilled and started heading down. The top of West Tiger 2 had been logged a few years back, and the good news was we could see Mt. Rainier, Mt. Baker, the buildings of downtown Seattle, and the Puget Sound. The bad news was there was no shade at the top, and it was already sunny and warm at 8:45 a.m.

The 2.2-mile route back down to the lower aid station, which we’d all do a total of three times during the race, was steep and technical for about a half-mile, and then just steep. I made myself drink two 17-ounce bottles of fluid as I ran downhill, and made a mental note to do this each time I ran the descent. I had drunk two bottles on the way up, and my shirt was completely drenched in sweat, front and back, by the time we hit the summit.

At the lower aid station, I grabbed my drop bag, stuffed a couple packages of Clif Bloks into my sweat-soaked vest, filled up three water bottles, and started jogging back up the trail, looking for the turnoff for the Yellow Loop—5.5 miles, 3,000 feet of elevation gain.

The Tiger Claw is sort of a multiple-loop race, in that you run multiple loops, and pass through the same checkpoint (the lower aid station) at the end of each loop—but that checkpoint is still three miles from where you parked your car at the start/finish, so maybe it’s less tempting. (you could call someone and ask them to pick you up at the aid station, though, since it’s about 150 feet from a parking lot that’s only a mile from I-90)

But I was definitely not thinking, “Man, I hate loops, I can’t believe I have to come back to this aid station two more times”—I was thinking, “Jesus it’s hot already.”

I was alone for most of the loop, running when possible, hiking the steeper parts, and chugging water and Skratch electrolyte drink. About two-thirds of the way up, Krissy Moehl passed me, and we chatted for a few minutes. Through the forest, I had been forcing myself to chug water—three 17-ounce bottles by the time I got to the top of the climb. Mileage-wise, I was past the halfway mark by my second summit of West Tiger 2, and had drunk 7 bottles of liquid, or about 119 ounces.

With only the Pink Loop to go, I only had 2,700 feet of elevation gain to climb. I could feel a slight dehydration headache forming, but maybe if I kept forcing water down I’d be able to keep it at bay. At the Upper Aid Station, I refilled two bottles and drank both of them as I navigated the downhill.

If you look a map of the course with all three loops on a map, you could see why they called it the Tiger Claw:

A solid mile and a half from the upper aid station, I started to hear a dog howling. Or some animal. I kept plugging away, slowly passing a couple other runners, every once in a while scanning the trees above my head for the top of the ridge, the end of my final climb. Eventually, I ran out of trees, hitting the north edge where the trees had been clear cut. I went from hints of sun to full-blast afternoon white heat as I chugged up the trail, finally seeing the howling dog, which turned out to not be a dog at all, just a really psyched volunteer wooing so loudly and so often that I thought there was no chance he’d have his voice tomorrow. I thanked him and walked to the aid station, got my water bottles refilled, grabbed a handful of potato chips and a couple Oreos, and headed down.

On each of my three descents of the trails to the lower aid station, I was elated to not be climbing. I was also reminded that there was, also today, a race called the Tiger Claw Double, a 50-mile version of this same race I was doing, but with THREE EXTRA LAPS to the summit of West Tiger 2. As I ran downhill, I’d pass by a 50-mile racer heading uphill, and I’d say something like “Good job,” but what I was thinking was, “Look, I am a person of questionable judgment and intelligence, who is spending their Saturday doing a steep-ass 50K race with almost 9,000 feet of climbing in 88-degree heat and 70 percent humidity, but you, Runner, are a FUCKING MANIAC. I salute you. Also I’m really glad I didn’t sign up for that race instead.”

At this point, midway through my final descent, the hot spots on the instep sides of my big toes had turned into full-on blisters, and my toenails were sick of the cumulative effects of being pushed backwards by my shoes every one of the thousands of downhill steps so far.

My strides had shortened, and I wasn’t grunting or wincing with pain every step, but I definitely wasn’t smiling. I glanced down at my watch to check my pace, just out of curiosity: 12-minute miles. I was pretty ready to be done.

I hit the lower aid station, grabbed my drop bag, shoved it into the back pocket of my vest, and started jogging down the road in full sun. Every piece of fabric on my body was soaked through with sweat, including the inside of my vest and the outsides of my shoes.

The route meandered through a short section of forest, and the final three-quarters of a mile was a wide, paved, shaded multi-use path. I started running faster, because on flat ground, my blisters didn’t hurt, and I was ready to get it over with. And I think I remembered them saying something about pizza at the finish line.

I jogged under the finish arch, gave Ethan a very soggy, gross hug, took my finisher medal, and felt the relief of No More Exercising Today slowly roll over me. Mark Griffith, who had been out on the course taking photos all day and working as hard as the racers, directed me to the pizza and cold beverages, and I asked him if he was able to take care of himself at all in the heat. He said he eventually was able to rehydrate at the upper aid station, but at one point, the sweat was just rolling down his head into his eyes. “My eyebrows stopped working,” he said. And I thought, Same, man. I had drunk approximately 225 ounces of water and Skratch electrolyte drink in 7 hours and 39 minutes, and I still felt like a piece of beef jerky that had been left out in the sun for a week.

It had been hot, for sure, but I finished, and as I sat down with a can of sparkling water, it seemed like I had a good chance of surviving the day. I thought a little bit about my friend’s question as to how I decided to sign up for the Tiger Claw, since it was kind of a local race on a local mountain. I am not sure if I could draw a flow chart of how I, and maybe other runners too, decide to run whichever races we run. I don’t know, it sounded fun? It sounded not fun? I heard good things about it? It was close to where I live, or close to some place I wanted to travel to, or it was flat, or it was steep, or whatever.

As far as I know, ultramarathon races basically work like this:

I had assumed that Ethan and Kim could put on a pretty good race because they do other things well, and I am not in the business of reviewing races, but I have to say, I was right. It was fun. Although parts of it were not fun.

Fortunately, there’s plenty of steep terrain very close to where I live. Unfortunately, lots of that steep terrain was still covered in snow and ice until the first week of April. But, I have microspikes, and enough of it melted out in time for me to get in some steep uphills. I did laps on Mt. Sentinel, sort of our local Tiger Mountain, with a ~2,000-foot climb via several different trails. At one point, I wondered: “Am I spending too much time on really steep terrain? What if the course is more gradual, or rolling?”

(Answer below)

I honestly hadn’t given it any thought until he asked. I had just focused on the big numbers: 31 miles, 8,000-something feet of elevation gain. But now I was thinking about it. And it did sound kind of nice to run the loops in whatever order they would be least crowded. But how would I know?

Some victories are measured by finish times. Others are defined by the obstacles overcome simply to reach the starting line.

For American Paralympic swimmer Ali Truwit, completing the New York City Marathon represented far more than covering 26.2 miles. It was the culmination of an extraordinary journey of survival, resilience, and unwavering determination that began with a life-altering shark attack just two years earlier.

On a crisp November morning in 2025, Truwit crossed the iconic finish line wearing a carbon-fibre running blade, fulfilling a promise she had made while recovering in a hospital bed after losing her lower left leg. The emotional milestone marked another remarkable chapter in one of the most inspiring comeback stories in modern sport.

The road to that unforgettable finish began only days after Truwit celebrated a major personal achievement. In May 2023, she completed her first marathon in Copenhagen alongside her mother. Just ten days later, while enjoying a graduation trip to Turks and Caicos with former Yale swimming teammate Sophie Pilkinton, tragedy struck.

While the pair were snorkelling, a shark attacked Truwit, severely injuring her left leg. Displaying remarkable courage, the two swam approximately 55 metres back to their boat, where Pilkinton—then a medical student—quickly applied a tourniquet that stopped the bleeding and ultimately saved Truwit's life.

Doctors were forced to amputate her lower left leg on her 23rd birthday.

Even in the darkest moments of recovery, Truwit's determination never disappeared. Reflecting on having recently completed her first marathon, she joked with one of the first responders that at least she had managed to run a marathon before the attack. The responder's simple but powerful reply would remain with her throughout rehabilitation: "You'll run another one."

Those words became a source of hope during the long and demanding road back.

Only weeks after surgery, Truwit began learning to walk on a prosthetic limb before gradually returning to the swimming pool. The process was anything but straightforward. The water that had once been her sanctuary became a source of painful memories, yet she refused to allow fear to define her future.

Her relentless work ethic soon produced extraordinary results.

Less than 16 months after the attack, Truwit represented the United States at the Paris 2024 Paralympic Games, producing a sensational performance to claim both silver and bronze medals. Standing on the Paralympic podium was a powerful reminder of how far she had come in such a short period, and she dedicated those achievements to everyone who had helped save her life.

Still, another dream remained unfinished.

The New York City Marathon carried deep personal significance. It was not merely another endurance event but a symbolic return to the city where her life had changed forever. On November 2, 2025, she lined up in Staten Island accompanied by 13 family members and close friends, all proudly representing her nonprofit foundation, Stronger Than You Think. Among them was Pilkinton, the friend whose quick thinking had preserved her life on that unforgettable day in the Caribbean.

Together, they covered every mile of the marathon before celebrating an emotional finish that Truwit later described as being "over the moon."

Completing a marathon on a carbon-fibre running blade presents challenges far beyond those faced by able-bodied runners. The prosthetic demands greater strength from the hips, core, and remaining leg while requiring exceptional balance, coordination, and endurance. Truwit's preparation combined months of disciplined training, patience, and mental resilience as she effectively taught herself how to run again.

Her story extends well beyond medals and marathon finishes.

Inspired by her own recovery, Truwit founded Stronger Than You Think, a nonprofit organisation dedicated to helping individuals overcome physical and financial barriers following limb loss. Recognising that sports prosthetics can cost tens of thousands of dollars and are often not covered by insurance, the foundation provides financial assistance for prosthetic devices, supports water-safety education, and promotes opportunities within Paralympic sport.

The organisation has already helped provide more than 11 prosthetic limbs, delivered nearly $200,000 in direct support, and funded over 4,000 hours of water-safety lessons benefiting more than 700 young people.

Throughout her journey, Truwit has remained refreshingly honest about the emotional challenges that continue to accompany recovery. She has openly acknowledged that healing is an ongoing process and that grief can still come in waves. Rather than portraying an effortless comeback, she has demonstrated that resilience is built through persistence, even on the hardest days.

Her remarkable transformation resonates far beyond elite sport. While few people will ever experience the trauma she endured, countless runners and athletes understand the frustration of injury, disappointment, or rebuilding after adversity. Truwit's journey serves as a powerful reminder that recovery is rarely linear and that courage is often measured by the willingness to keep moving forward despite uncertainty.

Now looking ahead to the Los Angeles 2028 Paralympic Games, Truwit continues to redefine what is possible. She is no longer known simply as the swimmer who survived a shark attack. She has become a Paralympic medallist, marathon finisher, advocate, and symbol of resilience whose story continues to inspire athletes around the world.

Her journey proves that while life can change in an instant, so too can the strength of the human spirit. Sometimes the greatest triumph is not returning to the person you once were, but discovering someone even stronger than you ever imagined possible.

Sprint and hurdles superstar Sydney McLaughlin-Levrone has entered an exciting new chapter in her remarkable life, welcoming her first child with husband Andre Levrone. The four-time Olympic champion and women's 400m hurdles world record holder announced the birth of their daughter, Savannah Michelle Levrone, who was born on Sunday, July 12, 2026.

The couple shared the joyful news with an emotional message celebrating the arrival of their daughter and expressing gratitude to everyone who supported them throughout the pregnancy. Sydney described Savannah as "our blessing and our joy," while expressing excitement and faith for the future that lies ahead for their growing family.

The announcement marks a deeply personal milestone for one of the most accomplished athletes of her generation. Renowned for redefining the women's 400m hurdles through a succession of record-breaking performances, McLaughlin-Levrone now embraces a new role beyond the track as a mother.

The timing of the announcement adds another layer of significance. Just days earlier, Sydney reflected on the 10th anniversary of qualifying for her first Olympic Games at only 16 years old—a breakthrough that launched one of the most decorated careers in modern athletics. Ten years later, her journey has come full circle with another life-changing milestone, underscoring that her greatest moments continue to extend beyond sporting success.

The arrival of Savannah Michelle Levrone has been met with an outpouring of congratulations from athletes, fans, and the wider sporting community, who have celebrated the couple as they begin this new chapter together. As Sydney McLaughlin-Levrone steps into motherhood, the athletics world will undoubtedly continue to follow her inspiring journey—both on and off the track.

Ethiopia's Tsige Gebreselama produced one of the standout road running performances of the season on Sunday, storming to victory at the prestigious Boilermaker Road Race 15K in Utica, New York, with a sensational course record of 47:29.

From the opening kilometers, Gebreselama controlled the race with remarkable composure and precision, maintaining a relentless pace that ultimately erased the previous course record and secured one of the fastest performances ever recorded on the historic course. Her commanding display further reinforced her reputation as one of the world's leading road and distance runners.

The Ethiopian celebration continued as Melknat Wudu crossed the finish line in second place in 47:44, completing a dominant one-two finish for her country. Kenya's Priscah Cherono claimed third in 48:14 after a determined effort, rounding out a world-class podium in a race featuring some of the finest distance runners on the international circuit.

The battle behind the podium remained fiercely competitive. Kenya's Everlyn Kemboi finished fourth in 48:28, narrowly ahead of compatriot Selah Busienei, who clocked 48:31 for fifth. Ethiopia's Netsanet Desta and Alem Nigus Tsadik followed in sixth and seventh respectively, while Kenya's Mercy Cherono secured eighth place.

American athletes also delivered encouraging performances on home roads. Veteran Stephanie Bruce finished ninth in 50:40, with Jackie Gaughan completing the top ten in 51:02 to cap a strong showing for the host nation.

Boilermaker Road Race 15K – Women's Top 10 Results

1. Tsige Gebreselama (Ethiopia) – 47:29 (Course Record)

2. Melknat Wudu (Ethiopia) – 47:44

3. Priscah Cherono (Kenya) – 48:14

4. Everlyn Kemboi (Kenya) – 48:28

5. Selah Busienei (Kenya) – 48:31

6. Netsanet Desta (Ethiopia) – 48:46

7. Alem Nigus Tsadik (Ethiopia) – 48:48

8. Mercy Cherono (Kenya) – 50:23

9. Stephanie Bruce (United States) – 50:40

10. Jackie Gaughan (United States) – 51:02

The women's race combined exceptional depth with remarkable speed, as several athletes broke the 49-minute barrier in a contest that showcased the global strength of elite road running. Gebreselama's record-breaking run now stands as a new benchmark in the rich history of the Boilermaker 15K, adding another memorable chapter to one of the United States' most celebrated road races.

Kenya's Alex Matata delivered a sensational performance to claim the men's title at the prestigious Boilermaker Road Race 15K in Utica, New York, producing a dominant run that underlined his growing reputation as one of the world's finest road racers.

Matata surged to victory in an outstanding time of 42:24, mastering the demanding course with a display of strength, speed, and tactical brilliance. His commanding performance secured a memorable triumph in one of the United States' most celebrated road races, adding another significant international victory to his career.

Kenya's success was further highlighted by Kiprono Sitonik, who produced an equally impressive run to finish second in 42:53, completing a remarkable one-two finish for the East African nation. South Africa's Adam Lipschitz rounded out the podium after clocking 43:14 to claim third place following a determined effort.

The race featured a highly competitive international field, with American athletes Reid Buchanan and Hillary Bor finishing fourth and fifth respectively, while another Kenyan, Victor Shitsama, added to his country's strong showing by taking sixth place.

Matata's victory once again showcased Kenya's enduring strength in global road racing, as its athletes continued to dominate major international competitions through exceptional endurance, tactical awareness, and relentless finishing speed. His performance in Utica not only thrilled the spectators lining the streets but also reinforced the depth of Kenyan distance running on the world stage.

Men's Top 10 Results – Boilermaker Road Race 15K

1. Alex Matata (Kenya) – 42:24

2. Kiprono Sitonik (Kenya) – 42:53

3. Adam Lipschitz (South Africa) – 43:14

4. Reid Buchanan (United States) – 43:38

5. Hillary Bor (United States) – 43:40

6. Victor Shitsama (Kenya) – 44:02

7. Futsum Zienasellassie (United States) – 44:32

8. Charlie Sweeney (United States) – 44:37

9. Sam Lawler (United States) – 44:54

10. Tyler Berg (United States) – 45:08

With another major road racing title added to his résumé, Alex Matata continued his impressive 2026 campaign while reinforcing his status as one of the leading names on the international road racing circuit. The Boilermaker 15K once again delivered a high-quality contest, with athletes from across the globe producing memorable performances in one of the United States' most prestigious road races.

Eliud Kipchoge's remarkable World Tour continued on Brazilian soil as the Kenyan marathon icon completed the New Balance 42K Porto Alegre Marathon, crossing the finish line in 2:18:39 to place 12th overall during the second stop of his ambitious seven-continent global running tour.

Competing against a strong international field, the two-time Olympic marathon champion displayed the resilience and determination that have defined his legendary career. While the result was not among the victories that have made him one of the greatest marathon runners in history, Kipchoge once again demonstrated the unwavering commitment that continues to inspire athletes and fans across the globe.

Morocco's Zineddine Ouria claimed victory in a superb 2:08:49, with Kipchoge finishing 9 minutes and 50 seconds behind the race winner after navigating the demanding course in Porto Alegre.

Kipchoge began the race with controlled and confident pacing, reaching 5km in 15:34 before passing the halfway mark in 1:05:07. As the race entered its decisive stages, the pace gradually slowed, but the veteran marathoner pressed on with characteristic determination, completing the 42.195-kilometre challenge in 2:18:39.

For many, the story will be told through the finishing position. But for those who truly understand greatness, this journey is about far more than medals, records, or podium finishes. Kipchoge's World Tour is a celebration of the sport itself—an opportunity to connect with runners across every continent, inspire the next generation, and continue living by the philosophy that has become synonymous with his career: "No Human Is Limited."

The Brazilian appearance also carried added significance, coming shortly after Kipchoge was permanently honoured in Porto Alegre with his footprints unveiled at the entrance of Parque Harmonia—a lasting tribute to his extraordinary impact on distance running and his enduring legacy in the sport.

Once a champion. Forever an inspiration. Legends do not stop inspiring when the victories become fewer; they inspire because they never stop showing up. Through every stride, every finish line, and every challenge embraced, Kipchoge continues to prove that true greatness is measured not only by what an athlete wins, but by the lives they touch along the way.

With the second stop of his World Tour now complete, Kipchoge will turn his attention to the next chapter of his global adventure when he lines up at the Melbourne Marathon in Australia this October. Wherever he races, millions will once again follow the journey of a man whose legacy extends far beyond the stopwatch.