Running News Daily

Arbitrary goals are nonsensical. They also can be the source of great joy.In the pursuit of any goal, we all face a moment of questioning ourselves, sometimes out loud.The first week of last December, I had that moment, a question as I power-hiked up an icy trail, listening to my own labored breath:The answer, of course, was: No, it was not necessary. I had a cold, or enough remnants of a cold that I should have been at home resting instead of semi-vigorously exercising outside.

But I had a goal. Or, rather, I had committed to a goal, with a deadline: 300,000 feet of uphill human-powered movement, in the year 2023. Before I started hiking uphill that day, I had logged 289,476 feet of climbing via running, hiking, ski touring, and cycling. I had 10,524 feet left to climb, and 24 more days to do it. And I wanted to get done early so I could stop worrying about it. So I kept tromping uphill.

Even though I’d have a hard time convincing anyone it was “necessary,” in the sense of Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs.Every year, human beings such as myself and yourself take part in an ancient ritual going back at least dozens of years: We decide how we are going to become a different person than we were the year before.

Sometimes we become completely different people, finally going to therapy, or deleting all of our social media accounts, or deciding to adopt the extensive and possibly unsustainable morning routine of a person who is an influencer on LinkedIn. Sometimes we just become a slightly different person, by committing to being on time, drinking more water, or meditating for one minute every day.

This probably sounds familiar. You may know it as a “new year’s resolution,” which is a common manifestation of this sort of idea, and also helpful in selling gym memberships. New year’s resolutions work for some people, but I have never had much success with them. Usually I think more along the lines of “what can I do that would make this year interesting/different from previous years?” Which I think is a good place to start, as opposed to “What’s wrong with me that I can attempt to fix or improve this year?” (If you’re asking yourself that same question, let me just say that you’re probably doing great, and at least a few people probably love you just the way you are. But yeah, we could all drink more water and eat more vegetables.)A few years back, a friend of mine mentioned he was going to try to log half a million vertical feet biking and hiking, and I don’t remember if he ended up getting it done, but I think he was probably inspired by a guy named Greg Hill who climbed and skied two million vertical feet in a year in 2010, and Greg Hill was probably inspired by himself, Greg Hill, skiing one million vertical feet in a year in 2005. I’m no Greg Hill. But what about 200,000 feet of ascent in a year? Certainly more doable by a middle-aged dad with a day job? That’s a little under 4,000 feet per week.

So I decided on that. I did a few backcountry ski laps at our local hill, just under 2,000 feet per lap, and hiked/ran up steep trails a couple times a week, trying to log a few hundred feet here or there. If Jay was awake and we had time between naps, I’d put him in the baby carrier backpack and chug up a trail for a few minutes or an hour, the dad version of a weighted training vest. I signed up for a steep 50K trail race, the Tiger Claw, which would get me almost 9,000 feet of climbing in one day, a big chunk.

Then in mid-May, my young friend Torrey, who has not been to my house recently to see my daily life trying to be a present and helpful dad, husband, self-employed artist and writer, said, “200,000 feet? I think you could do 300,000 easy.”

I thanked him for the encouragement by replying, “Fuck you,” and then we argued for a few minutes about who would buy dinner.

And then of course I started doing the math, which really amounted to a big question, How do I want to live my life this year, which is really a series of smaller questions:We’re lucky, as human beings, to have the time and resources to come up with ideas we refer to as “dreams,” and then spend time and resources pursuing those.

Some people put a lot of time and resources into one dream, like thru-hiking the Pacific Crest Trail, or climbing a big mountain halfway across the world, or completing an Ironman triathlon.Since I am a coward, I often tend to shy away from big goals with a high chance of failure, and instead choose to pursue goals with longer timelines, in order to have some flexibility. A bad week of weather can derail a big mountain summit attempt, and an injury can derail a plan to qualify for the Boston Marathon (I guess so could gastrointestinal distress on race day), but an annual goal of a bunch of vertical feet can withstand some bad weather or minor injuries during the year. Or, in my case, catching every communicable disease Jay brought home from daycare in his first six months of attendance, which included something like six colds, and norovirus or something similarly explosive and miserable.

Even with a week off here and there, I kept chugging along. I started a Strava club called 100 Grand, because I thought other people might think it was fun to try to log 100,000 feet of climbing, or 200,000 feet, or 500,000 feet, or whatever, depending on where they lived and how much time they had to devote to it. I know not everyone lives in a mountainous area, or even a hilly place, but I also knew about this group of people in Iowa and Illinois who race to see who can log 25,000 feet of vert the fastest (and in the smallest amount of horizontal distance) every December. I mean, look at this spreadsheet:Almost 2,000 people signed up for the 100 Grand Strava club, despite it launching in the middle of the year, and I’m not sure how much it motivated people, but I’m going to do it again in 2024. As soon as I finish mailing out stickers to everyone who clocked 100K or more in 2023.

As I rolled over 200,000 feet in September, and then 250,000 feet (in early October), I started to reflect on how the 300,000-foot number had changed my year of running. I have never been one to pay attention to my per-mile pace, but it went completely out the window this year, since a typical run for me looked like this:Mt. Sentinel is essentially a straight line two miles from my house and roughly 2000 vertical feet higher than my front door*, so I defaulted to it often this year. I stood on the summit 47 times, often enough that it started to feel quite ridiculous, but also a sort of home. Which is probably how my dad feels about certain holes on his home golf course, or how my brother feels about his favorite fishing spots.Every time I got home from a run, I’d check my yearly total on Strava as it ticked upward—except on the rare days I did a flat run, when I was short on time or had to run Jay to or from day care in the jogging stroller.

Eventually, I had a little less than 2,000 feet to go. Unless something crazy happened, I’d just need to get to the summit of Mt. Sentinel one more time and I could stop obsessing about it. My friend Forest had offered to go with me, but also said he understood if I wanted to go up alone. I decided to keep this one to myself, microspikes on my shoes for the icy sections, trekking poles as insurance to keep myself upright.

The last climb up the steep trail on the south ridge seemed like it was taking forever, and I watched several paragliders take off from near the top, a surprise sunny December day. I jogged through the snowy forest between the south and north summits, and then started the steep hike up the final 100 feet to the top. A figure in an orange jacket was starting down from the summit, headed my way.

The person stopped on the trail when they saw me, and without being able to see quite that far, I knew it was Forest. He started clapping, and then went back to the summit with me. He asked if I wanted to have the top to myself, to process it a little bit, and I said Nah, it’s just the last few feet of my dumb goal for the year. Which was true.

The closer I got to finishing, the more ridiculous it felt, and as much as I’d like to have had some epiphany about life, I know sometimes you just need a new motivation to get out the door and experience something, even if you end up on the same mountaintop *checks notes* 47 times. But as ridiculous as it was, I still followed through with it, which has some sort of meaning, maybe.

You don’t need to go far these days to find inspirational quotes about pursuing your goals, and I think everyone is looking for something different. The older I get, the more I think about a line from the late, great, philosopher and restaurateur Kenny Shopsin, in the 2004 documentary I Like Killing Flies:

Jakob Ingebrigtsen brought his remarkable 2026 season to a fitting close on home soil, winning the men’s street 1500m at the inaugural Runfest Norway in Sandnes on Friday.

Competing in front of an enthusiastic hometown crowd, the Olympic and world champion took control of the race from the early stages and maintained his authority through the finish, stopping the clock at 3:40.7.

Andreas Fjeld Halvorsen followed in second in 3:43.3, while Sigurd Tveit completed the podium in 3:47.8.

The unusual street race added another dimension to the occasion, with 273 runners taking part on the same road and sharing the course with one of Norway’s most accomplished distance runners. For the recreational participants, it offered a rare opportunity to compete alongside Ingebrigtsen in an event that brought elite athletics and mass participation together.

The victory also provided a fitting final chapter to a season that began with significant uncertainty for Ingebrigtsen. After undergoing major Achilles surgery in February, the Norwegian was forced to miss a substantial portion of the summer campaign as he worked his way back to full fitness.

His return, however, quickly developed into another championship-winning chapter. In Birmingham, Ingebrigtsen captured European 5,000m gold before adding another major title at the inaugural World Athletics Ultimate Championship in Budapest, where he won the 5,000m.

Those performances transformed what could have been a disrupted season into another year defined by championship success and a determined return to the highest level.

Now, with the Sandnes victory added to his 2026 record, Ingebrigtsen closes the year exactly where it began in spirit — overcoming adversity, rebuilding his form and once again competing at the front.

From Achilles surgery in February to major championship victories and finally a 1500m win before his hometown crowd, the Norwegian has given his 2026 season a memorable final scene.

Olympic 100m hurdles champion Masai Russell has announced her engagement to longtime partner Robert “Robbie” Springfield, adding a major personal milestone to the remarkable journey of one of America’s leading track and field stars.

Russell shared the news with her followers, revealing that Springfield had proposed and that she had accepted. Reflecting on their relationship, the Olympic champion described him as her best friend and expressed her excitement about spending the rest of her life with him.

The couple’s relationship dates back to their college years at the University of Kentucky, where both were student-athletes and competed in track and field. Russell established herself as a standout hurdler, while Springfield competed in the long jump, giving them a shared understanding of the demands, sacrifices and pressures that come with pursuing success in athletics.

Springfield has since transitioned from competition into coaching. A former collegiate long jumper, he is now part of the coaching staff at Morehead State University, where he works with the programme’s sprinters and jumpers.

Their relationship has developed alongside Russell’s rise to the top of the sport. The defining moment of her career came at the Paris 2024 Olympic Games, where she captured gold in the women’s 100m hurdles, securing her place among the sport’s Olympic champions.

Away from competition, Springfield has remained a familiar part of Russell’s journey, sharing in the demanding periods of training and competition that accompanied her pursuit of Olympic success. Their connection has consequently grown from a college athletics relationship into a long-term partnership.

The engagement now marks another significant chapter for Russell, this time away from the track. After reaching the pinnacle of her sporting career in Paris, the 100m hurdles champion is beginning a new phase of her personal life alongside a partner who has been part of her journey since their university days.

From competing on the same collegiate stage to building a future together, Russell and Springfield’s story has evolved alongside two careers shaped by track and field. The Olympic champion will now balance this new personal chapter with her continuing ambitions in athletics

The women’s race at the 2026 TCS Amsterdam Marathon is shaping up to be one of the most competitive editions in recent years, with a deep international field set to take on the fast Dutch course on Sunday, October 18.

At the centre of the contest will be four Ethiopian athletes who have already broken the 2:20 barrier, creating the prospect of a fascinating battle for victory and a possible assault on the course record of 2:16:52.

Defending champion Aynalem Desta will return to Amsterdam looking to retain her title after producing the biggest performance of her career at last year’s 50th edition. Desta won in a personal best of 2:17:37, establishing herself among the leading marathoners in the field and setting the benchmark for this year’s contenders.

Standing in her way will be fellow Ethiopian Meseret Belete Tola, a former Amsterdam champion who knows exactly what it takes to succeed on the course. Belete Tola captured the 2023 edition in 2:18:21, and her return adds another layer of experience and proven quality to an already formidable lineup.

The field also includes Mestawut Fikir Truneh, who arrives with an impressive marathon pedigree. Truneh finished runner-up at the 2024 Berlin Marathon in 2:18:48, demonstrating her ability to compete at the highest level on one of the world's major marathon stages.

Completing the quartet of sub-2:20 Ethiopians is Buze Diriba, whose personal best of 2:19:34 places her firmly among the leading contenders. With four athletes possessing credentials below 2:20, the race is likely to develop into a tightly contested battle from the opening kilometres.

The depth extends well beyond the leading quartet. Desi Jisa Mokonin, representing Bahrain, Yeshi Kalayu Chekole of Ethiopia and Nazret Weldu Gebrehiwet of Eritrea have all established themselves as serious marathon competitors with performances approaching the 2:20 mark.

Another major name to watch is Abeba Aregawi, the former 1500m world champion representing Sweden. Aregawi has successfully transferred her talents to the marathon and made headlines earlier this year by setting a Swedish national record of 2:23:12 on her debut. Her presence adds another intriguing dimension to an already high-quality field.

Amsterdam’s marathon course has consistently provided an opportunity for elite athletes to produce fast times, and this year’s women’s lineup has the depth to turn the race into a genuine test of both championship racing and outright speed.

With four athletes already inside 2:20, two former Amsterdam champions returning to the start line and several other accomplished marathoners ready to challenge them, the battle is expected to remain open deep into the race.

The ultimate target will be the Amsterdam women’s course record of 2:16:52. Whether the leading contenders can threaten that mark remains to be seen, but the quality assembled for October 18 ensures that the record will be firmly in the spotlight when the race reaches its spectacular finish inside the Olympic Stadium.

The 2026 Valencia Half Marathon is shaping up to be a thrilling contest of speed, endurance and tactical brilliance, with some of the world’s finest road runners set to converge in Spain on October 25.

Kenya’s Daniel Ebenyo and Alex Matata will be among the leading contenders, facing a formidable Ethiopian challenge spearheaded by Jemal Yimer and Tadese Worku. The field also features Rodrigue Kwizera, who boasts the fastest personal best among the leading entrants at 58:16.

Ebenyo arrives with a personal best of 59:04, placing him firmly among the athletes capable of sustaining a demanding pace over the 21.1-kilometre distance. Matata, who owns a 59:11 best, adds further Kenyan strength, while Andrea Kiptoo brings another sub-60-minute credential to the race.

Yimer has already established himself as one of the fastest athletes in the field with a 58:33 personal best, while Worku has clocked 58:35. Kenya’s Owen Korir, with a best of 58:58, further underlines the remarkable depth of the men's lineup.

Valencia Half Marathon 2026 Entries

1. Rodrigue Kwizera (Spain) — 58:16

2. Jemal Yimer (Ethiopia) — 58:33

3. Tadese Worku (Ethiopia) — 58:35

4. Owen Korir (Kenya) — 58:58

5. Daniel Ebenyo (Kenya) — 59:04

6. Alex Matata (Kenya) — 59:11

7. Andrea Kiptoo (Kenya) — 59:11

8. Thierry Ndikumwenayo (Spain) — 59:42

9. Said Mechaal (Spain) — 1:00:24

10. Adel Mechaal (Spain) — 1:02:30

Kwizera, who finished second in Valencia last year, leads the field on paper and will be seeking another standout performance on the famously fast Valencia course. With several athletes carrying sub-60-minute credentials, the race has the ingredients for an aggressive battle from the opening kilometres.

Beyond the headline names, the men’s field is deep and highly competitive, bringing together a strong collection of experienced international athletes with proven ability over the half-marathon distance. With so much quality packed into the lineup, the race promises an intriguing battle in which tactics, endurance, positioning and finishing speed could all play a crucial role in determining the eventual champion.

Yet personal bests will count for little once the gun goes off. The title could ultimately be decided by patience, positioning and the ability to respond when the pace begins to rise in the closing stages. Every surge, every tactical move and every second saved could prove decisive on the road to the finish.

With Kenya, Ethiopia and Spain represented by athletes of exceptional quality, Valencia promises a high-octane men's showdown in which the leaders are likely to be separated by only a handful of seconds. The final kilometres could provide the defining moments of a race packed with speed, ambition and anticipation.

On October 25, the question will be simple: who has the strength to command the streets of Valencia and claim the coveted half-marathon crown?

April 19, 1982. The Boston Marathon unfolded under unusually warm, sunny conditions, and by the closing stages, the race had become a private battle between two very different American runners: Alberto Salazar, already one of the biggest names in distance running, and Dick Beardsley, the Minnesota runner who had emerged as a serious marathon contender.

For roughly nine miles, from the Newton Hills toward the finish, Beardsley did much of the leading, with Salazar tucked close behind. Neither man could shake the other. They ran deep into Boston locked together, trading surges and refusing to surrender an inch as the crowds along the course grew louder.

Salazar finally made his decisive move with less than a mile remaining. He opened a small gap, but Beardsley refused to disappear. The Minnesota runner chased him through the final streets, closing again as they approached the finish.

Then came the final sprint.

Salazar held his form and reached the finish first in 2:08:52, with Beardsley only two seconds behind in 2:08:54. It was an extraordinary result: both men broke 2:09 in the same Boston Marathon, and both shattered the previous course record.

The race became known as the “Duel in the Sun,” and it remains one of the most celebrated head-to-head battles in Boston Marathon history. Beardsley had not won, but his performance established him as one of America's elite marathoners.

For Salazar, however, victory came at an enormous physical cost. Immediately after crossing the finish line, he collapsed and required emergency treatment, including several litres of intravenous saline. The combination of heat, dehydration and an all-out effort had pushed his body to the limit.

Salazar's marathon career would never again produce quite the same kind of performance. His celebrated 1981 New York City Marathon victory had produced what was initially considered a world record, although the course was later found to be short. His Boston triumph therefore became one of the defining victories of his career.

Beardsley's story would take an even more difficult turn. Injuries disrupted his career, and after returning to the highest level, he suffered a devastating farm accident in 1989. Further accidents, surgeries and severe physical pain followed, eventually leading to a long battle with painkiller addiction.

He eventually overcame that struggle and transformed the darkest chapters of his life into a story of recovery, resilience and redemption.

That is what makes the 1982 Boston Marathon more than a two-second victory.

For one extraordinary afternoon, Salazar and Beardsley produced a marathon duel in which neither man was willing to give way. One crossed the finish line first. The other finished only two seconds behind him.

Two seconds separated them at Boston. Decades later, their legendary duel remains one of the greatest chapters in marathon history.