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But what it lacks in high-falutin' swag, it more than makes up for in community and character. While there are speedsters at the front of the pack, pushing each year to lower the course record (now a mind-boggling 4:07:48), some runners take well over nine to complete the course, marshaled by regional runners and the Ouachita Amateur Radio Association.

The race is capped at around 90 runners and remains small enough to fit all entrants in an annual start line group photo. The race is the destination, not a waypoint en route to some larger, shinier thing. 

"I think that ABF has always been special because it is one of those events that feels like a big family reunion," says Stacey Shaver, who's been the race director for ABF for the past five years. "It's also just a cool corner of the state, where you can forget that modern (in)conveniences like smartphones and email exist for a few hours. We have runners come back year after year and from across several states.  Even for runners new to our event, it feels like going to grandma's house. Grandma's house means fun, games, laughter, and leaving well fed. That is exactly what our runners get."

In addition to the homey feel of Grandma's house, the past few year's awards for first place finishers have included hand-harvested local honey, hand-soldered fork statuettes, and a charming cross-stitched winner's plaque. 

Community Roots

As more races are becoming consolidated under increasingly large banners, company sponsors, and race series, many runners are looking to smaller, home-grown events with a family feel. Few things top the feeling of seeing friends and run family out along the course and feeling supported by your home community. 

Runner Justin Grigg recommends Missoula, Montana's Double Dip race for just that reason.  

"You'll usually see friends racing, but also working aid stations, spectating along the course or gathered at the start/finish area. With the two out-and-back sections, you more than likely will see friends who are racing ahead of or behind you, and people who aren't racing will run up University and Sentinel to watch," says Grigg. 

Many runners appreciate being able to share their race-day experience with the larger community and enjoy being cheered on while they're competing.  Live music, food, and adult beverages don't hurt either when it comes to incentivizing community members to come and bask in the finish line stoke. Some events can almost feel at odds with the communities they happen in, and it's a breath of fresh air when everyone feels included in race day festivities. 

Close to Home

The International Trail Running Association (ITRA) estimates there are around 3,600 trail races every year, and approximately 1,400 of those are in the U.S. While big events garner the most press and social media attention, there are hundreds, if not thousands of smaller, local races that are providing the bulk of opportunities for runners to lace up their shoes and hit the trails. 

Aside from the accessibility, there are economic and environmental reasons that racing closer to home is more appealing. 

Sam Robinson, from Oakland, California, loves the local Woodmonster Trail Race because it's practically in his backyard. 

"I've run over every trail in the park numerous times. The main climb in the race is a spicy 0.9-mile ascent with a 14% grade-one of my favorite hills to run up in California. I know and love almost every inch of those trails and that makes the race joyous to me."

Traveling is a hassle. Trying to make sad hotel-room oatmeal in a tiny coffee maker from the 1990s at three a.m. before having a blow-out fight with my phone's GPS system to find the start line in the pitch dark of rural Nowhere is never fun. You know what's even better? Sleeping in your own bed, eating your own properly-cooked oatmeal, and navigating your own self to the start line. 

Race locally. If not for the community or environmental plusses, then for the extra 20-90 minutes of sleep. 

It's Not About Speed

"I love when a race director focuses more attention on the experience than the results of the race itself," says pro athlete Jeff Colt. "it makes the event fulfilling for the entire field instead of just some of the top runners. Jemez Mountain Trail Runs is another good example of this - instead of making grandiose prizes for the top three or some fancy sweatshirt included with registration. It makes the event fulfilling for the entire field instead of just some of the top runners." Colt's favorite small race is the Randolph Ramble, based in Randolph, New Hampshire. 

Many RD's are subbing out swaggy grab bags filled with gear and gels no one wants with bespoke items and experiences instead. "The Jemez Mountain Runs offer breakfast before the race, amazing aid stations, a live band at the finish, and a full dinner after the race," says Colt. 

Registration for the Ramble? Just $45. Many big ticket races cost hundreds of dollars to enter, before even forking over cash for housing and meals, making smaller, local races an affordable alternative. Washington State's Capitol Peak 50 only costs $50. At a dollar a mile,  you'd be breaking even, even if you didn't have a lick of fun. Additionally, many smaller races like ABF invest in their home communities. Every cent raised at ABF goes directly to the Big Fork Community Center. 

The community created by the races is important, too. While many larger races inspire buy-in from the community they happen in (I was recently blown away by the volunteers at the Western States Endurance Run, many of whom abandoned their weekend running plans to stand in a river or hand out flat coke), many volunteers at smaller races aren't trying to up their chances in a lottery or waitlist. They're simply there because they want to be. Whether it's operating a HAM radio or flipping pancakes at the finish, a race that's stacked with community-run aid stations feels extra special.

"I want to meet people at races and the ones that foster community are the ones that attract me the most. The Randolph Ramble welcomes runners in and makes them feel like a neighbor. I'd be surprised if you didn't end up with a new running buddy after running the Ramble," says Colt. 

The worse the website the better the race.

The worse the website the better the race. For years, the race existed only as a Facebook page, with no website or online registration, a testament to the "if you build it they will come" spirit nascent in the true grassroots of trail running. 

"At the Ramble, expect lumberjacks to be out there in their leather hiking boots, elite trail runners who prefer to stay out of the limelight, mountain wanderers who descend from above the clouds only to resupply for food and to run the Ramble, and other local north country neighbors who want a good morning workout," says Colt. 

Race Director Doug Mayer (also a columnist for this magazine) says that the community feel is very much by design. 

"We turn to our community for everything we need, from food courtesy of the local pub and cafe to handmade finisher awards. There's a strong sense of community and self-reliance in the White Mountains, so we're used to thinking this way. If you just stop and look for a moment, you'll discover all kinds of talents and services practically at your feet. And when the community is powering the event, almost by default it will have a great local vibe," says Mayer. 

Are Small Races on the Rise?

"The big races grab the headlines, but under the surface, every day and all around the country, local trail runners are coming together to create authentic, unique, and wonderful events," says Mayer. "Most of us got our start that way. I'm deep in the world of marquee races now, but it's still true that nothing makes me happier than seeing 100 runners head up Mount Crescent at the start of every Ramble."

"Trail running as a whole is growing, and people who can't get into those events but still want the challenge of a mountain race will find that and much more at Athens Big Fork Trail Marathon but without the big race fees," says ABF RD, Stacey Shaver. 

"We simply ask people to pay what they can. We don't want money to be the reason someone misses out on experiencing our races or feeling connected to the club and community. I also think it's really special to help people see the fantastic beauty that we have here in our backyard. I always feel such a sense of local pride when I see the beauty here, and I'm so grateful that we get to enjoy it in this special way."

Because local races are often directed by, well, locals, they can be more responsive and receptive to the community's needs, whether that's access or affordability. At ABF, it's not uncommon to see competitors hiking in full hunting get-ups. I've seen makeshift garbage bag ponchos, blue jeans, and an actual, hand-carved wooden hiking staff. And maximizing points of entry to the sport via affordable local events is a great way to grow the sport. 

But what happens when races become victims of their own success? As a younger runner, sometimes it's hard not to feel nostalgic for a trail running world I never experienced but hear frequently about - one without waitlists or golden tickets, a utopic vision where you could register for marquee ultras day of, at the start line. The way these stories are passed down from my older trail buds, it seemed as though at every race you might see Scott Jurek flipping finish line pancakes, or that running Western States wasn't a matter of "if" but "when." It's hard not to pine for the trail running days of yore, even if they frequently involved non-technical fabrics and carrying your water in a Gatorade hockey bottle a la Matt Carpenter. It's not "Make Trail Running Great Again" nostalgia, but the ability to connect with the running community stripped of the pretenses of needing something flashier than the simple appeal to come and run. 

Even so, I'm glad trail running is growing. And I'm glad it's getting more competitive. I'm especially glad that more folks every day might have the opportunity to race, wherever they are, and fall more in love with this wonderful, heart-breaking, silly sport. 

Should I be more worried about people "discovering" my favorite local race? Will gushing about its unique charms be the very thing that causes it to become a big box event?

"I'm not worried about sharing how great this event is with a national publication, because the beauty of this event is that it can be recreated with little effort, and SHOULD BE recreated in your little pocket of the country," says Colt.  "It's a local race, but it is a great example of what is needed to replicate this in your own backyard. You need an idea, a desire to gather some runners together, and maybe some local sponsors who dig what you're trying to doHave a fun, local event on the 10K of trails nearby your house and build that community where you are. We all have the tools to make something special."

There's nothing wrong with big races either. Getting to compete with the world's best athletes in amazing locations with well-trained aid station attendees is amazing - but it's no replacement for the local rotary club dishing out Fireball and pie on a 30-degree drizzly morning in the Ozarks. 

Meanwhile, Back at Big Fork

I'll keep signing up for big races. I'll keep accepting swag bags full of expired lube samples and discount massage flyers. I'll keep setting alarms for the crack of dawn to register for races and I'll keep refreshing my browser to see if my name is moving up the waitlist. 

But, I'll also still keep rolling up to the Big Fork Community Center on the second Saturday in January to subject my ligaments to the indifference of Ozark trails. I'll keep showing up to run a course that's only marked by comically sporadic blazes to get a result that will never show up on UltraSignup, or affect my ITRA score whatsoever. 

I'll keep running ABF because I like that you can't upload the race to Strava for hours due to a lack of cell service. By the time you have enough bars to post a recap on Instagram, the urge to seek validation via screen has faded into a warm glow of post-run beer and real-life high fives. 

I'll keep doing it because sometimes my legs and my heart need a reminder of why I trail run: not for accolades, recognition, or points, but for community and homemade chili. In lieu of a finishing chute, there's a chalk line etched onto the highway, a lone man clad in his warmest hunting wear with a clipboard marking down finishing times. Finish line IPAs and fresh biscuits are a bigger reward than any kudo, and time spent running in the woods with close friends will always be my favorite way to spend a Saturday. 

here's no gun. 

No timing mat. No official start line. 

The Athens Big Fork Trail Marathon starts at the Big Fork Community Center, the barn-quilted hub of an unincorporated community in southern Arkansas boasting 179 residents, at last count. Nestled in the Polk County region of the Ouachita Mountains, the trail itself was constructed by the U. S. Postal Service 125 years ago along pre-established Choctaw and Caddo trade routes and game trails and was partially restored in 1986.  Summits along the course, which boast (according to my GPS, though the thick foliage can fool even the highest of tech) almost 8,000 feet of climbing, are charmingly named Brushy, Big Tom, Brusheap, and Hurricane Knob. The average grade is 12%. 

I was drawn to this race after reading about it in this very magazine, a story called The Toughest Trail Marathon You've Never Heard Of. After seeing how close this southern trail test-piece was to the Ozark hills, where I spent my childhood, I was drawn by the allure of something that felt comfortably familiar, and familiarly uncomfortable. There's a warning on the race's website meant to deter beginners. Below that, a secondary deterrent should the original warning have the opposite of its intended effect. 

"Please do not be enticed into trying this run because of the difficulty warning-it is merely an honest attempt at preventing the run organizers from having to find and rescue someone ill-equipped for the event."

For the uninitiated, the trails of the southeast are punishingly steep and Dantean in nature - where the trail exists at all. For much of ABF (what locals lovingly call the marathon) the "trail" is in fact, a dried-out ol' crick. Mossy "baby-heads" (aptly named rolly-polly rocks approximately the size of a baby's head) and slick roots cackle at the futility of rubber outsoles and lugs. Forest Service literature euphemistically refers to it as "unsurfaced". 

There's no entry fee. No timing chip. No YouTube stream. 

Most Olympic marathoners spend their youth focused on running. They join track clubs, compete in national championships, and pursue the sport from an early age.

Julia Mayer’s journey was very different.

Today, Mayer is Austria’s marathon record holder, a multiple national record holder on the roads, and an Olympian. Yet for much of her athletic life, running was not her primary sport.

For 16 years, she played soccer.

Then she discovered something that would change her life.

“I noticed that I was really fast in the fun runs and that it was really, really fun,” Mayer said when reflecting on her transition from soccer to distance running.

What began as curiosity quickly became a passion. She eventually made the bold decision to leave soccer behind and focus entirely on running. It was a move that surprised many people around her, but Mayer believed she had found her true athletic calling.

The decision proved to be the right one.

Within a few years, Mayer developed into one of Europe’s top marathon runners. Her steady improvement carried her from local races to the international stage, where she began rewriting Austria’s record books.

She now holds Austrian records in the marathon, half marathon, and road 10K. Her marathon best of 2:26:08 established her as the fastest female marathoner in Austrian history. Her performances in the half marathon and 10K have further cemented her place among the country’s all-time great distance runners.

Her rise culminated with qualification for the 2024 Olympic Games in Paris.

Competing in the Olympic marathon represented the realization of a dream. On one of the most challenging marathon courses ever used for the Olympics, Mayer ran courageously against the strongest field in the world and finished 55th in her Olympic debut.

Behind the scenes, success has come through extraordinary dedication. During marathon preparation, Mayer trains twice a day and covers approximately 200 kilometers, or 124 miles, each week. The workload demands discipline, patience, and a deep commitment to continuous improvement. 

What makes her story especially inspiring is not simply the records or the Olympic appearance.

It is the fact that she found her greatest talent later than many elite runners.

In a sport where athletes are often identified at a young age, Mayer’s journey serves as a reminder that potential does not always reveal itself early. Sometimes it takes years of experience, a willingness to try something new, and the courage to follow a different path. 

The former soccer player who once chased a ball across a field is now chasing history on the roads of Europe.

And according to those closest to her, her best performances may still be ahead.

For runners of every age and ability, Julia Mayer’s story delivers a powerful lesson: it is never too late to discover what you are capable of.

From soccer player to Olympian, her journey proves that remarkable achievements can begin when least expected.

Megan Keith produced the performance of her career in Oslo on Thursday night, shattering one of Scotland’s longest-standing distance running records and cementing her place among Britain’s greatest female 3000m runners.

The 24-year-old clocked a sensational 8:28.35 over 3000m, breaking the Scottish outdoor record that had stood for nearly four decades. In doing so, Keith eclipsed the previous mark of 8:29.02, set by Scottish legend Yvonne Murray back in 1988, ending a record reign that had lasted 38 years.

Keith’s breakthrough run was more than just a national record. The performance also propelled her to third on the UK outdoor all-time list, placing her behind only two of Britain’s most celebrated distance runners — Paula Radcliffe, who leads the rankings with 8:22.20, and Laura Weightman, whose 8:26.07 remains the second-fastest outdoor mark by a British woman.

The significance of Keith’s achievement is amplified by the calibre of athletes she now joins in the record books. For decades, Murray’s mark stood as one of Scottish athletics’ most untouchable records, surviving generations of elite competitors. Keith has now succeeded where many outstanding runners have fallen short, announcing herself as one of the leading distance talents in British athletics.

Her time also compares favourably with the best performances produced indoors. Olympic medallist Laura Muir ran 8:26.41 indoors in Karlsruhe in 2017, underlining just how exceptional Keith’s outdoor effort in Oslo truly was.

The run continues a remarkable rise for the Scottish star, whose progression over recent seasons has transformed her from a promising prospect into a genuine force on the international stage. Running with confidence and composure against elite competition, Keith demonstrated both the speed and endurance required to challenge the very best in Europe and beyond.

With the World Championship season gathering momentum, Keith’s record-breaking display sends a powerful message. Not only has she etched her name into Scottish athletics history, but she has also established herself as a serious contender in one of the sport’s most competitive events.

In Oslo, Megan Keith did far more than break a record. She ended a 38-year wait, climbed into the upper echelon of British distance running, and delivered a performance that may prove to be a defining moment in her career.

British middle-distance talent Phoebe Gill took another significant step forward in her return to top form, producing a determined victory over 800 metres at the Meeting de Marseille in France on Wednesday.

Competing in challenging, wind-affected conditions, the 19-year-old demonstrated both resilience and composure as she held off a late charge from Switzerland's Veronica Vancardo to secure the win in 2:00.81. Vancardo finished just three hundredths of a second behind in 2:00.84, underlining the fiercely contested nature of the race.

While the margin of victory was narrow, the result represented another encouraging milestone for Gill as she continues to rebuild momentum following her injury setback. The young Briton showed impressive race awareness and strength in the closing stages, maintaining her advantage despite the difficult conditions that made fast running a challenge throughout the evening.

The Marseille triumph adds to a growing body of evidence that Gill is steadily progressing toward her best form. Earlier in her comeback campaign, she clocked 2:01.50 for 800m in Bydgoszcz before demonstrating her versatility with a strong 4:05.53 performance over 1500 metres at the BMC Grand Prix meeting in Trafford.

Those performances have highlighted not only her improving fitness but also her ability to compete across multiple distances as she carefully builds her season. The Marseille victory now provides further confirmation that the European junior star is moving in the right direction.

Gill emerged as one of Britain's most exciting middle-distance prospects through a series of breakthrough performances as a teenager, earning widespread recognition for her fearless racing style and remarkable maturity. Injury temporarily interrupted that upward trajectory, but her recent results suggest she is steadily rediscovering the form that made her one of the sport's brightest young talents.

With each race, the signs of progress become increasingly evident. Winning in difficult conditions and under pressure from a quality field is often a stronger indicator than a fast time alone, and Gill's latest success demonstrated exactly those qualities.

As the summer season gathers pace, the Marseille victory offers another confidence boost for the British teenager, whose return continues to gain momentum. If her recent progression is any indication, Gill could soon find herself back among the leading names on the European middle-distance circuit. 

The NCAA Track and Field Championships delivered a moment few could have predicted as Ja’Kobe Tharp produced one of the most astonishing performances in the history of sprint hurdling, rewriting the record books in spectacular fashion.

Competing in the opening round of the men’s 110-meter hurdles, the Auburn star stunned the athletics world by clocking an incredible 12.75 seconds, becoming the first athlete ever to break the 12.80-second barrier. In doing so, he eclipsed the long-standing world record of 12.80 set by Aries Merritt in 2012, a mark that had stood as one of the sport’s most revered achievements for more than a decade.

What makes Tharp’s breakthrough even more remarkable is the scale of his improvement. Entering the championships, the defending NCAA and U.S. champion had recorded a season-best of 13.05 seconds. Yet under the brightest spotlight, he unleashed a performance that exceeded every expectation, slicing an extraordinary 0.26 seconds from his personal best in a race that instantly became one of the greatest ever run.

The achievement sent shockwaves throughout the track and field community. While Tharp arrived in Eugene as one of the leading contenders for the NCAA title, few envisioned a performance capable of redefining the limits of the event. Instead, the American hurdler delivered a race for the ages, combining flawless technique, explosive speed, and impeccable rhythm from the first hurdle to the finish line.

The historic run not only secured his place in athletics history but also transformed the outlook of the championship. With the world record now in his possession, Tharp advances to the final as the overwhelming favorite, carrying momentum that could make an already unforgettable weekend even more extraordinary.

For years, the 12.80 barrier appeared untouchable. On a stunning day at the NCAA Championships, Ja’Kobe Tharp proved otherwise, producing the kind of performance that reminds fans why sport remains so unpredictable. In a matter of seconds, he turned a routine qualifying round into a landmark moment that will be remembered for generations.

The world record no one saw coming is now a reality—and Ja’Kobe Tharp is the man who changed history.

A new chapter in middle-distance running may have begun in Oslo after American teenager Cooper Lutkenhaus produced one of the most remarkable performances of the season, narrowly defeating reigning Olympic champion Emmanuel Wanyonyi in a thrilling men's 800m contest at the Diamond League meeting.

The 17-year-old sensation shocked a world-class field by crossing the finish line first in a race that came down to the smallest of margins. After an intense battle over the final metres, Lutkenhaus held off Wanyonyi by just one hundredth of a second, producing a dramatic finish that left the packed stadium in disbelief.

From the opening lap, the pace was relentless as the leading contenders positioned themselves for a fierce showdown. As the athletes entered the home straight, Wanyonyi appeared poised to unleash his trademark finishing kick. However, Lutkenhaus refused to be intimidated, matching the Olympic champion stride for stride before producing a perfectly timed lean at the line to secure a historic victory.

The result marks a breakthrough moment for the young American, who continues to establish himself as one of the brightest talents in global athletics. Defeating an Olympic champion at a Diamond League event is a feat many athletes spend entire careers pursuing, yet Lutkenhaus achieved it before reaching adulthood.

For Wanyonyi, the narrow defeat does little to diminish his status as one of the world's premier 800m runners. The Kenyan once again demonstrated his exceptional class and competitiveness, pushing the race to a world-class standard and forcing his young rival to deliver the performance of a lifetime.

Beyond the result itself, the race offered a glimpse into what could become one of the sport's most exciting rivalries in the years ahead. With established stars and emerging talents now pushing each other to new heights, the men's 800m continues to evolve into one of athletics' most captivating events.

On a memorable night in Oslo, the spotlight belonged to Cooper Lutkenhaus. At just 17 years old, he stood toe-to-toe with an Olympic champion and emerged victorious, announcing himself to the athletics world in spectacular fashion.