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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?

The prospect of seeing one of athletics' biggest stars back on the track is growing stronger, with Jakob Ingebrigtsen reportedly targeting a return to competition later this summer following his recovery from Achilles tendon surgery.

According to comments made by his agent, Daniel Wessfeldt, in an interview with Norwegian media, the double Olympic champion could make his long-awaited comeback at one of three major European meetings in July. The leading options under consideration are the Monaco Diamond League on July 10, the Hungarian Athletics Grand Prix on July 14, and the London Diamond League on July 18.

For athletics fans, the possibility of Ingebrigtsen lining up in London would add another layer of excitement to an already highly anticipated Diamond League meeting. The Norwegian middle-distance sensation has become one of the sport's most dominant figures in recent years, collecting Olympic, world and European titles while consistently rewriting record books.

His 2026 campaign was put on hold after he underwent surgery on his Achilles tendon earlier this year, forcing him to focus on rehabilitation rather than competition. Since then, questions have surrounded when the 24-year-old would be ready to return to racing.

The latest update suggests that decision will largely depend on how his training progresses over the coming weeks. If recovery continues according to plan, July could mark the beginning of his return to elite competition ahead of the latter stages of the season.

A comeback at either Monaco, Budapest or London would immediately place Ingebrigtsen back among the sport's biggest storylines. Each meeting is renowned for producing world-class performances, and any appearance by the Norwegian would attract significant attention from fans eager to see how quickly he can regain top form after his injury setback.

While no final decision has been confirmed, the signs are increasingly positive. After months away from competition, Jakob Ingebrigtsen appears to be edging closer to a return, with London's Diamond League meeting emerging as one of the most intriguing possibilities on his road back to the track.

Should his recovery continue smoothly, athletics could soon welcome back one of its brightest and most influential stars.

What should have been the defining moment of Emad Bashir-Mohammed's young running career instead turned into one of the most talked-about controversies in American road racing this year.

The 23-year-old crossed the finish line first in the men's citizen's race at the prestigious Bolder Boulder 10K on Memorial Day in Colorado, stopping the clock at an impressive 29:50. His performance was not only a commanding victory but also one of the fastest winning times ever recorded in the event's long and celebrated history. Bashir-Mohammed finished eight seconds clear of his nearest challenger and appeared to have secured a breakthrough triumph.

For nearly two hours, he was the undisputed winner.

Then everything changed.

Race officials announced that Bashir-Mohammed had been disqualified after determining that he had started in the wrong wave. According to Bolder Boulder regulations, he had been assigned to the AA wave but lined up with the faster A wave, which began earlier. Event rules allow runners to move backward into a slower wave, but prohibit athletes from advancing into a faster one.

As a result, Bashir-Mohammed's victory was erased from the record books.

The citizen's title was subsequently awarded to Nickolas Scudder, who crossed the line second in 29:58. The promotion handed Scudder back-to-back citizen's race victories, while Bashir-Mohammed was left to grapple with the disappointment of losing a win he believed he had earned on the road.

The disqualification has since ignited widespread debate across the running community.

Bashir-Mohammed maintains that he did not intentionally violate the rules. He claims that after collecting his AA bib, he spoke with race personnel and was permitted to start with the A wave after presenting evidence of his recent performances. In a statement shared after the race, he expressed frustration over the decision, arguing that his goal was simply to compete against the strongest field available and produce the fastest time possible.

Race organizers, however, stood firmly behind their ruling. Officials stated that wave-assignment regulations are clearly communicated in pre-race information and reiterated during packet collection. They also noted that hundreds of participants are disqualified each year for moving into faster start groups, emphasizing that consistent enforcement is necessary to maintain fairness for all competitors.

The incident has divided opinion among runners and fans alike. Some believe the rules must be applied equally regardless of an athlete's finishing position, arguing that wave assignments are a fundamental part of race organization. Others feel the punishment is harsh, particularly if Bashir-Mohammed genuinely received approval to move up before the start.

What remains undisputed is the quality of his performance. On the roads of Boulder, Bashir-Mohammed demonstrated the fitness and speed required to outrun the field by a significant margin. Yet in road racing, crossing the finish line first is only part of the equation. Compliance with race regulations carries equal weight.

For Bashir-Mohammed, the day will be remembered as a painful lesson in the fine margins that can define elite competition. A remarkable run delivered a memorable victory, but a dispute over wave placement ultimately overshadowed the achievement, leaving behind a controversy that continues to fuel discussion throughout the running world.

A fast race, a costly administrative error, and a debate that may linger long after the finish-line tape has been packed away.

The men's 100 metres at the 2026 Rome Diamond League is shaping up to be one of the most anticipated sprint races of the season, with an exceptional field featuring some of the fastest men in the world.

Scheduled for Thursday, June 4, at the iconic Stadio Olimpico in Rome, the race will bring together reigning stars, established champions and emerging talents in a contest that promises fireworks from the moment the gun goes off.

Kenya's Ferdinand Omanyala headlines a world-class lineup that includes American sprint sensation Noah Lyles, Botswana's Olympic champion Letsile Tebogo, Jamaica's explosive Ackeem Blake, South Africa's ever-consistent Akani Simbine and Italy's hometown hero Lamont Marcell Jacobs. With personal bests ranging from 9.77 to 9.97 seconds, the field is packed with athletes capable of producing something special on the Diamond League stage.

Omanyala, the African record holder with a blistering personal best of 9.77 seconds, arrives in Rome eager to continue his strong early-season form and prove he can challenge the very best on the global circuit. The Kenyan star has built a reputation as one of the fastest starters in world sprinting and will be looking to make a statement against an elite field.

Standing in his way is world champion Noah Lyles, whose personal best of 9.79 seconds places him among the fastest athletes in history. The American remains one of the sport's biggest attractions and will be determined to add another Diamond League victory to his impressive résumé.

The race also marks a major test for Olympic champion Letsile Tebogo. The Botswanan star has rapidly become one of athletics' most exciting talents, while Ackeem Blake continues to establish himself as a serious contender on the international sprint scene.

Adding further intrigue is the presence of Italy's Lamont Marcell Jacobs. Competing on home soil, the Tokyo Olympic champion will enjoy passionate local support as he seeks to deliver a memorable performance in front of the Roman crowd.

South Africa's Akani Simbine, Cameroon's Emmanuel Eseme, Great Britain's Jeremiah Azu and rising American talent Jordan Anthony complete a field that boasts remarkable depth and quality.

Men's 100m Entry List – Rome Diamond League 2026

Ferdinand Omanyala (Kenya) – PB: 9.77

Noah Lyles (USA) – PB: 9.79

Lamont Marcell Jacobs (Italy) – PB: 9.80

Akani Simbine (South Africa) – PB: 9.82

Letsile Tebogo (Botswana) – PB: 9.86

Ackeem Blake (Jamaica) – PB: 9.88

Jordan Anthony (USA) – PB: 9.91

Emmanuel Eseme (Cameroon) – PB: 9.96

Jeremiah Azu (Great Britain) – PB: 9.97

With multiple national record holders, global champions and Olympic medal contenders sharing the same start line, the Rome Diamond League men's 100m could deliver one of the fastest races of the year. For sprint fans around the world, all eyes will be on Rome as a stellar cast battles for supremacy over athletics' blue-riband distance.

Audrey Werro announced her arrival as one of the early stars of the 2026 outdoor season with a commanding victory in the women’s 800 metres at the Rabat Diamond League, producing a performance that exceeded even her own expectations.

The Swiss middle-distance talent surged to victory in a brilliant 1:56.56, breaking the meeting record and delivering one of the fastest times recorded worldwide this season. In a race packed with quality, Werro displayed exceptional composure, confidence, and finishing strength to separate herself from the field and stamp her authority on the event.

What made the performance even more remarkable was the athlete's surprise at the level she had already reached so early in the campaign.

"I was not expecting such a strong start to the season," Werro admitted after the race.

The race unfolded at a relentless pace, but Werro remained perfectly positioned throughout. As the athletes approached the bell lap, she glanced at the clock and immediately sensed something special was within reach.

"When I saw the time at the bell, I felt really confident," she said. "I'm really happy with the Meeting Record and looking forward to the rest of the season."

Her confidence proved justified. Maintaining her rhythm over the final 400 metres, Werro powered down the home straight to secure the victory and rewrite the Rabat meeting record books in the process.

The performance sends an early warning to her rivals ahead of a season that promises major championships and high-profile Diamond League battles. Beyond the record-breaking time, Werro's display highlighted her growing maturity as a racer, combining tactical awareness with impressive speed and endurance.

With the outdoor season only beginning, the 1:56.56 clocking suggests that even faster times could be on the horizon. If Rabat is any indication, Audrey Werro may be poised for the biggest season of her career.

Her emphatic victory in Morocco was more than just another Diamond League win—it was a statement of intent from an athlete determined to challenge the world's best throughout 2026.

The city of Boston is set to welcome back one of its most celebrated champions as Kenya’s Sharon Lokedi headlines a world-class field for the 2026 B.A.A. 10K presented by Mass General Brigham Cancer Institute on June 21.

Fresh from another remarkable victory at the Boston Marathon in April, Lokedi returns to the streets of Boston and Cambridge carrying both momentum and confidence as she aims to defend the title she captured in dominant fashion last year.

The two-time Boston Marathon champion has developed a special connection with the historic race city. In 2025, she produced a course-record performance of 2:17:22 to win the Boston Marathon before returning this year to claim another victory in 2:18:51, the second-fastest winning time in the event’s storied history. Her success has cemented her status as one of the premier road runners in the world.

Lokedi will be making her first competitive appearance since her marathon triumph and arrives as the reigning B.A.A. 10K champion after clocking 31:39 over the challenging 6.2-mile course in 2025.

“Boston has become a very special place for me,” Lokedi said ahead of the race. “The atmosphere created by the fans and the community is unlike anywhere else. I’m excited to return and give everything I have to defend my title.”

The women’s race promises to be highly competitive. American Olympian Rachel Smith, who finished second at the Boston 5K in April, leads the domestic challenge. Kenya’s strong contingent includes African 10,000m champion Gladys Kwamboka, former B.A.A. 10K runner-up Stacy Ndiwa, and experienced road racer Viola Cheptoo. British Olympian Jessica Warner-Judd adds further international depth to a field packed with proven performers.

The men’s race is equally impressive, featuring elite athletes from 13 nations.

Ethiopia’s Dawit Seare enters as one of the leading contenders after capturing the 2025 Boston 5K title and bringing the fastest 10K personal best in the field at 27:21. Kenya will be represented by an accomplished group led by Alexander Mutiso, winner of the 2024 London Marathon and runner-up at last year’s New York City Marathon.

Patrick Kiprop also arrives in outstanding form after securing victory at the prestigious BolderBoulder 10K on Memorial Day, while Alex Masai returns looking to continue his strong record in Boston. Masai recently finished ninth at the Boston Marathon and has earned three top-ten finishes at the B.A.A. 10K.

Among the international stars making their mark is South Africa’s Adriaan Wildschutt, who makes his race debut after an impressive season highlighted by victory at the NYC Half Marathon in 59:30. Ethiopia’s Olympic bronze medallist Hagos Gebrhiwet adds further quality to the field, bringing a wealth of championship experience and previous success in Boston.

Canadian national 10K champion Andrew Alexander, two-time U.S. Olympian Hillary Bor, marathon standout Ryan Ford, and reigning USA 25K champion Andrew Colley complete a field stacked with talent and depth.

With defending champions, Olympic finalists, national champions and rising stars all converging on Boston, the 2026 B.A.A. 10K is shaping up to be one of the most competitive editions in recent memory. For Sharon Lokedi, however, the mission is simple: return to the city where she has repeatedly excelled and add another memorable chapter to her growing Boston legacy.