Running News Daily

Should trail running be an Olympic sport?

Did you know that off-road running was part of three historic summer Olympic Games, including the 1924 Olympics in Paris? One hundred years on, runners from four different clubs in Britain have come together to launch a campaign to bring trail running (as we now call it) back to the Olympics. The next Games to include new sports is Brisbane 2032, and the group of passionate trail runners feel strongly that trail running deserves a spot.

“At Paris 2024, four new sports are being added that include breakdancing, surfing, skateboarding and sport climbing,” runner Jimi Harrison said in an interview with British media outlet The Star. “We feel that new Olympic sports should reflect the trends and popularity of the current day and believe the time has come for trail running to be adopted at future Olympics.”

To raise awareness for the cause, Harrison and the group ran a relay of more than 455 km, from London to Paris. Their feat ended on Sunday in the French capital.

Backed by running shoe brand Merrell, the group are calling on Olympic decision-makers. They have written an open letter to representatives of the International Olympic Committee (IOC) and International Trail Running Association (ITRA) to support their cause. (Merrell recently signed Olympian Alexi Pappas to its athlete roster. Pappas, who raced the 10,000m at Rio in 2016, setting a national record for Greece, ran two big trail ultras in 2023: the Black Canyon 100K and the Leadville 100.)

Some would argue that cross-country running is a more obvious fit for inclusion in the Olympics. With shorter, looped, spectator-friendly courses, cross-country could be more attractive to broadcasters, thus generating more interest. And cross-country usually features track runners. There is less crossover between track and trail running, though it’s not unheard of for track runners to transition to trails, as we have seen.

This is not the first attempt to bring trail running to the Olympics. In 2021, a trail running company from Spain launched its own campaign to bring it to the 2028 Olympics in Los Angeles. (They were not successful.)

Trail running has increased significantly in popularity in recent years, thanks partly to events like the Barkley Marathons, UTMB (Ultra-Trail du Mont-Blanc) and the Golden Trail Series, which make international news headlines.

Western States unveils new anti-doping policy

The legendary 100-mile race has partnered with the U.S. Anti-Doping Agency as part of an "ongoing commitment to clean sport".

On Tuesday, Western States Endurance Run (WSER) revealed a new partnership with the U.S. Anti-Doping Agency (USADA), unrolling new regulations around anti-doping and reaffirming the race’s “continuing commitment to clean sport,” as their website explains. Here’s what you need to know.

While WSER has for years had drug testing in place, the previous policies were not as stringent (and were not governed by USADA). For some runners eager to toe the line in Auburn, Calif., on June 29, the rules and expectations around testing are now more clearly laid out; others have more questions and are requesting further clarification.

Entry rules

WSER’s entry rules explain that athletes found guilty of doping offenses by governing bodies like WADA or USADA are barred from participating in WSER during their period of ineligibility. Additionally, any athlete subjected to a ban of three months or more is ineligible unless otherwise approved by WSER. Previously, athletes who had any infractions against the WADA code were banned for life from participating in WSER—but, as ultrarunning world champ Camille Herron explains on X, the new policy allows for “more leniency of entry for those who were given a warning/1-2 month ban.”

Levelling the playing field

WSER will be taking testing seriously and targeting elite athletes and top age-group competitors for post-race urine and/or blood testing. Sample collection and analysis will be handled by USADA, ensuring a thorough and transparent process. USADA will also be responsible for results management, including communicating with athletes regarding test results, investigating violations and imposing sanctions as necessary. WSER also reserves the right to impose its own sanctions.

Prohibited substances

WSER strictly adheres to the WADA (World Anti Doping Agency) Code, prohibiting the use of substances on the WADA Prohibited List. Athletes are responsible for knowing and complying with these rules. The WSER website provides resources to help athletes check their medications and suggests that runners be extremely cautious when using supplements.

Athlete response

The updated drug policies have garnered some positive responses on social media, while some athletes, such as Canadian pro mountaineer and ultrarunner Adam Campbell, are asking for further explanation.

WSER has a partnership with trail running giant UTMB, and while NSAIDs (nonsteroidal anti-inflammatory drugs, including aspirin and ibuprofen) are, notably, banned at all UTMB races, runners at WSER would not be tested for them under these new guidelines.

“The issue is the terms are not clearly defined,” Campbell posted on X. “Strong stances usually demand greater clarity. If UTMB sanctioned someone for a doping violation how would WSER handle it? Their possible violations do not necessarily sync with WADA—seems like a reasonable question to clarify.” At the time of publication, the race had not yet responded.

The 2024 edition of WSER will take place on June 29-30.

Jim Walmsley, Mathieu Blanchard will return to UTMB in 2024

2023 UTMB champion Jim Walmsley and 2022 second-place finisher Mathieu Blanchard have confirmed they will appear at this year’s Ultra-Trail du Mont-Blanc (UTMB) final, which takes place in Chamonix, France on Aug. 30, according to a report by iRunFar. A number of other ultratrail elites have also been announced, including the U.K.’s Tom Evans, who finished third in 2022 and who won Western States 100 in 2023, and Canada’s Christian Meier, the former pro cyclist who won the 145-km TDS race last year. 

On the women’s side, Canada’s Marianne Hogan (who finished second in 2022) is confirmed, as are 2022 champion Katie Schide of the U.S., France’s Claire Bannwarth and New Zealand’s Ruth Croft (who won Western States in 2022). (Three-time UTMB champion and course record holder Courtney Dauwalter does not appear on the list.)

Four-time champion Kilian Jornet and 2023 second-place finisher Zach Miller will also not be returning. After the October, 2023 announcement by UTMB and its minority partner, the Ironman Group, of a new race in Whistler, B.C. in 2024, and the Dec. 1 announcement that UTMB livestream announcer Corrine Malcolm had been fired, the two publicly questioned the organization’s decisions and its treatment of athletes. There was talk of a boycott, though Jornet and Miller dispute this; in the wake of all of this, regular discussions between UTMB and the Pro Trail Runners Association (PTRA), of which Jornet is a founding member, became more frequent, with a view to smoothing relations between athletes and the race. 

Walmsley moved to France for two years to hone his mountain-running skills before finally winning UTMB on his fifth try in 2023 (he Walmsley first ran UTMB in 2017, finishing fifth; he DNF’d in 2018 and again in 2021, then finished fourth in 2022). Blanchard, who has returned to France after living in Montreal for a few years (and taking out Canadian citizenship), finished fourth last year after following Jornet onto the podium in 2022. Hogan has been dealing with injuries for much of the last year and a half since her podium finish in 2022.

Five tips from top Canadian ultrarunner Jazmine Lowther

Canadian ultrarunning star Jazmine Lowther has worked through some epic highs and challenging lows since she turned pro in 2022. Lowther took the top spot at the 2022 Canyons Endurance Runs by UTMB, followed by a fourth-place finish in the 2022 CCC race at Ultra-Trail du Mont Blanc (UTMB).

While she managed to speed to second at Transgrancanaria 128K in Spain in 2023, she has also struggled with injuries and biomechanics issues. Lowther recently shared five things she wishes she had embraced when she first dove into ultrarunning; newbies and seasoned athletes alike can learn from her wisdom and suggestions.

1.- Befriend your heart rate

Lowther says she mostly runs by RPE (rate of perceived exertion), but adopting an approach that leans more toward heart-rate-based training has allowed her to “understand my own physiology much deeper, recover properly, and respect pacing.”

Becoming familiar with your heart rate zones can be a valuable skill, and paying attention to your performance metrics, such as pace and endurance, in relation to your zones will help you become a more responsive, tuned-in, healthy athlete. You’ll also be better able to notice if your body needs more rest and recovery time.

2.- Start a training log

While many runners count on apps like Strava to capture their running data, spending time logging more in-depth information about your training is worthwhile, as it provides unique insights over time. “Strava  is great (it has most of my training),” says Lowther, “but it doesn’t include how I felt, what workouts I completed, what I ate before/after, caffeinated, fatigue, etc.”

3.- Wear sunscreen

This one is as simple as it sounds. “Protect thy skin,” says Lowther. “Ultrarunning takes you out there for mega-long hours! Slather up!” While most of us know that prolonged sun exposure during outdoor running can increase the risk of skin damage, including sunburn, premature aging and an elevated risk of skin cancer, it can be easy to forget to reapply after hours on the trails. Wearing sunscreen helps to create a protective barrier, reducing the absorption of UV rays and minimizing the potential harm to the skin, and, as Lowther notes, is an essential precautionary measure (in all kinds of weather) for maintaining skin health.

4.- Find your baseline

Lowther suggests integrating benchmark training runs into your routine to establish an initial baseline. The process involves finishing a predetermined course or distance to use as a reference tool and provides a basis for assessing your performance and comparing it to others in terms of time, pace, or other relevant metrics. “I suppose I’ve done this in an unstructured way (Strava segments anyone?) but seriously, repeating workouts in the same location/distance is great for checking in on things,” she says.

5.- Have patience in the process

Focus on consistency and long-term goals and gains. Consider each run and workout as an investment in your fitness and training bank, even if it didn’t go exactly as planned. “One day at a time, year over year,” says Lowther. “Consistency, is that you?”

Courtney Dauwalter and Jim Walmsley win 2023 Trail Runner of the Year

Trail running media community Freetrail have announced the winners of the Trail Runner of the Year (TROY), and the epic champions weren’t really a surprise: Americans Courtney Dauwalter and Jim Walmsley, both winners of the 2023 edition of UTMB.

TROY is a global award intended to recognize pro athletes within the sport by ranking their performances during the 2023 racing season. “It’s our hope that TROY will become an annual capstone, celebrating the year in competition,” Freetrail said when they created TROY in 2022.

Traditionally, contests like this one have been country-based, so Freetrail is taking a step toward inclusivity by making the competition international. “TROY is an extension of Freetrail’s mission to elevate the profile of the professional athletes in our sport while helping casual observers and the general public feel connected to their stories – hopefully creating diehard fans in the process,” Freetrail shares on its website.

We had some stellar Canadian athletes on the list, including Ailsa MacDonald of Cochrane, Alta., Edmonton’s Priscilla Forgie, Chilliwack’s Ihor Verys and Montreal’s Marianne Hogan. Americans took the lead, however, after remarkable performances in 2023.

Courtney Dauwalter

Ultrarunner and coach Corinne Malcolm says in the Freetrail announcement that “we are living in the Courtney Era and we aren’t mad about it.” The trail and ultrarunning community witnessed a historic chapter in 2023 as Dauwalter conquered the elusive triple crown of 100-mile races (Western States 100, Hardrock 100 and UTMB 171K) becoming the first person to win all three in one season.

Malcolm captures the essence of Dauwalter’s remarkable journey in 2023 when she says, “We’ve reached peak Courtney.” Before the triple was even an idea, Dauwalter kicked off her season with wins (setting new course records) at Bandera 100K, Transgrancanaria 128K classic, and a record-breaking performance at Western States 100 (WSER).

auwalter’s 2023 season unfolded as an extraordinary narrative of triumphs. Fans watched in awe when she ran to victory at WSER, breaking Canadian Ellie Greenwood‘s long-standing record by 77 minutes, and three weeks later, dominated the Hardrock 100, setting yet another course record.

The unexpected revelation of Dauwalter’s pursuit of the triple crown at UTMB adds a surreal dimension to her already illustrious season. “While she would go on to convincingly win her third world-class 100-mile of the season, completing a triple that will likely never happen ever again, she would also show us she was human, gritting through the final 50 km of the course… Leaving us absolutely speechless in the process,” Malcolm writes.

Jim Walmsley

Walmsley is a beloved fixture in the trail community, known for his immense talent and dedicated work ethic. Fans have followed the evolution of his ultrarunning career. Walsmsley’s journey is one of continuous growth, from three consecutive wins at WSER to a strategic move to Arêches, France, to learn from the likes of Francois D’Haene how to conquer UTMB.

“Just like for many of his mountain colleagues, that would also mean coming into the first spring race of the season off of largely ski fitness,” Malcolm says. “To qualify for the UTMB Finals Jim ran, won, and set the course record at the Istria by UTMB 100-mile race—in the process winning his first 100-mile race that wasn’t WSER.”

While temporarily sidelined with an ankle injury, Walmsley’s determination prevailed as he clinched victory at Trail La Frison Roche and, ultimately, UTMB. Fans watched a nail-biting race, with some doubts as to whether Walmsley would best compatriot Zach Miller, but “a switch flipped at Champex Lac,” and Walmsley secured his win in under 20 hours. Jim’s subsequent triumph at Nice Côte d’Azur by UTMB 100K not only cements his legacy but also earned him a golden ticket to WSER 2024, leaving the ultrarunning community in eager anticipation.

5 creative ways to unlock your running potential

Every runner seeks the elusive formula for peak performance, and while traditional strategies play a vital role, exploring unconventional avenues can unearth untapped potential. Performance coaches, authors and the hosts of a new podcast called Farewell, Brad Stulberg and Steve Magness, recently shared some innovative ways to tap into your best performance.

These methods, adapted from the training of legendary ultrarunner Courtney Dauwalter, Kona Ironman champ Chelsea Sodaro, and Canadian Olympic champ decathlete Damian Warner, can help you build an arsenal of tools that will allow you to become your best running self, whatever your goals may be. Look Embrace curiosity over fear

In the premiere episode of Farewell, Stulberg interviews ultrarunning GOAT Dauwaulter, whose 2023 season saw her winning the triple crown of ultramarathons (UTMB, Western States 100 and Hardrock 100). Dauwaulter is known for her curiosity-based approach to racing and says that whenever she works her way through a unique challenge, she puts it into her “filing cabinet” of experiences built through more than a decade of running ultras.Consider approaching challenges with curiosity rather than fear.

Dauwaulter’s journey started with curiosity-driven road marathons, leading her to conquer ultramarathons and achieve astonishing feats. When faced with a daunting task, adopt a mindset of exploration, saying to yourself: “let’s just see what happens,” rather than feeling like you must succeed at all costs. The unexpected outcomes might surprise you and expand your perceived limits.Use the power of “yes”

Chelsea Sodaro, the Kona Ironman world champ winner, draws inspiration from a mantra the athlete and her husband taught their daughter when she was going through a “no” phase—“yes, yes, yes.” This simple yet potent affirmation becomes a guiding force during challenging moments. Applying this mantra encourages a commitment to embrace difficulties and lean into the hard aspects of training. The next time you encounter a tough run or race, channel the spirit of “yes, yes, yes” to shift from resistance to resilience.Less is more: subtract to succeed

Stulberg suggests challenging the instinct to add more when faced with a hurdle. Research shows that humans tend to be “adders,” inclined to incorporate new strategies, rather than simply subtracting impediments. When striving for behaviour change, consider subtracting obstacles instead of seeking additional solutions. Reflect on what you can eliminate or modify to clear the path to success, allowing simplicity to fuel progress.Consistency trumps perfect practice

Through several decades of elite competition, Canadian Olympic champion decathlete Damian Warner has learned the importance of consistency over perfection. His coach’s mantra—that there’s no such thing as a bad practice—highlights the importance of routine, unexceptional training days. Warner’s gold medal-winning experience underscores the power of sustained, consistent effort, even when conditions are less than ideal. Recognize that excellence is often built through everyday dedication rather than sporadic extraordinary performances.You are not your thoughts

In overcoming mental health challenges like OCD and anxiety, Sodaro shares a unique strategy—naming her brain (she calls hers Regina, after the character in the movie Mean Girls). By personifying intrusive thoughts, she creates distance between herself and her mental struggles. Runners grappling with mental hurdles can apply this concept, acknowledging that their thoughts don’t define them. Naming and dismissing unwanted thoughts can provide mental clarity and resilience during demanding runs.Ultrarunner Adam Campbell’s tips to master your mid-race mindset” — Canadian Running Magazine

View on the original site.

In your pursuit of optimal running performance, integrating these unconventional approaches can inject a fresh perspective, foster growth, and aid in unlocking your true potential. Remember, innovation often lies in the willingness to explore the uncharted paths of curiosity, affirmation, simplicity, consistency and mental resilience.

Five creative ways to unlock your running potential

Every runner seeks the elusive formula for peak performance, and while traditional strategies play a vital role, exploring unconventional avenues can unearth untapped potential. Performance coaches, authors and the hosts of a new podcast called Farewell, Brad Stulberg and Steve Magness, recently shared some innovative ways to tap into your best performance.

These methods, adapted from the training of legendary ultrarunner Courtney Dauwalter, Kona Ironman champ Chelsea Sodaro, and Canadian Olympic champ decathlete Damian Warner, can help you build an arsenal of tools that will allow you to become your best running self, whatever your goals may be.

1.- Embrace curiosity over fear

In the premiere episode of Farewell, Stulberg interviews ultrarunning GOAT Dauwaulter, whose 2023 season saw her winning the triple crown of ultramarathons (UTMB, Western States 100 and Hardrock 100). Dauwaulter is known for her curiosity-based approach to racing and says that whenever she works her way through a unique challenge, she puts it into her “filing cabinet” of experiences built through more than a decade of running ultras.

Consider approaching challenges with curiosity rather than fear. Dauwaulter’s journey started with curiosity-driven road marathons, leading her to conquer ultramarathons and achieve astonishing feats. When faced with a daunting task, adopt a mindset of exploration, saying to yourself: “let’s just see what happens,” rather than feeling like you must succeed at all costs. The unexpected outcomes might surprise you and expand your perceived limits.

2.- Use the power of “yes”

Chelsea Sodaro, the Kona Ironman world champ winner, draws inspiration from a mantra the athlete and her husband taught their daughter when she was going through a “no” phase—“yes, yes, yes.” This simple yet potent affirmation becomes a guiding force during challenging moments. Applying this mantra encourages a commitment to embrace difficulties and lean into the hard aspects of training. The next time you encounter a tough run or race, channel the spirit of “yes, yes, yes” to shift from resistance to resilience.

3.- Less is more: subtract to succeed

Stulberg suggests challenging the instinct to add more when faced with a hurdle. Research shows that humans tend to be “adders,” inclined to incorporate new strategies, rather than simply subtracting impediments. When striving for behaviour change, consider subtracting obstacles instead of seeking additional solutions. Reflect on what you can eliminate or modify to clear the path to success, allowing simplicity to fuel progress.

4.- Consistency trumps perfect practice

Through several decades of elite competition, Canadian Olympic champion decathlete Damian Warner has learned the importance of consistency over perfection. His coach’s mantra—that there’s no such thing as a bad practice—highlights the importance of routine, unexceptional training days. Warner’s gold medal-winning experience underscores the power of sustained, consistent effort, even when conditions are less than ideal. Recognize that excellence is often built through everyday dedication rather than sporadic extraordinary performances.

5.- You are not your thoughts

In overcoming mental health challenges like OCD and anxiety, Sodaro shares a unique strategy—naming her brain (she calls hers Regina, after the character in the movie Mean Girls). By personifying intrusive thoughts, she creates distance between herself and her mental struggles. Runners grappling with mental hurdles can apply this concept, acknowledging that their thoughts don’t define them. Naming and dismissing unwanted thoughts can provide mental clarity and resilience during demanding runs.

In your pursuit of optimal running performance, integrating these unconventional approaches can inject a fresh perspective, foster growth, and aid in unlocking your true potential. Remember, innovation often lies in the willingness to explore the uncharted paths of curiosity, affirmation, simplicity, consistency and mental resilience.

Running For 12 Hours Straight Taught Me Real Confidence

You’re stronger than you think.

When I hear people say, “You can do it!” I’m usually skeptical.

People tend to say that when they have nothing else more encouraging to say. So that kind of positive affirmation — while appreciated — does not exactly provide the substantial and “real” encouragement I’m looking for.

Nowadays, when I find myself lacking in self-confidence, or when I’m feeling like a big failure as a writer because my short stories and essays keep getting rejected by publications, I find myself thinking about that fateful morning in early 2018 — when I first started to get into trail running.

It took me 12 hours to finish my first 25-kilometer mountain race.

For those unfamiliar with trail running, 12 hours is a long, long time to finish 25K. The race’s cut-off time is 8 hours — which is already generous. Yet, I didn’t make it.

Nevertheless, that 12-hour 25K run taught me what real confidence is.

It was the Mount Ugo Marathon, which had qualifying points for UTMB. The UTMB, set in the French Alps, is one of the biggest and most prestigious mountain races in the world. To qualify, a runner has to gather enough points from difficult, qualifying races — like the Mount Ugo Marathon.

The Marathon offered 50K and 25K distances. And since it was my first time, I joined the 25K.

We started at the base of a mountain in Kayapa, Nueva Vizcaya. The first few kilometers were paved roads. Then it turned into dirt roads and eventually trails. Over mountain ranges, it was 10 kilometers of almost vertical uphill.

I’d lift each leg over the other and feel my ankles threaten to rip from the constant battle against gravity. I no longer bothered to look up because the damn mountain just kept going on and on. And I cursed myself for not having more uphill training.

Eventually, we reached a more forgiving part of the trail — flat enough that I could jog it. And I started gaining speed and momentum.

When I hear people say, “You can do it!” I’m usually skeptical. People tend to say that when they have nothing else more encouraging to say.

At the turning point for 25K runners (the 50K runners had a different route), a race official told me I was running 11th. I was excited. I thought if I maintained my pace and outran another runner, I’d be part of the top 10! Not a bad way to finish my first half-marathon.

I reached an intersection that had no marks or ribbons. I was confused. And I kind of assumed trail races would be like roads; you just keep going, and you’ll eventually find the right way because the signs will be so obvious. This is a big mistake because, I would later learn, mountain trails don’t work that way at all!

But I wanted to get that Top 10 so bad that I simply picked a path, hoped it was the right one, and gunned through.

I thought I’d turn back if I didn’t see any markings/ribbons after five minutes of running. But then I saw one! So I kept going.

A few mountains later, the ribbons suddenly stopped appearing. I started getting nervous.

Am I on the right path?

But the ribbon indicated this trail path. There were no intersections so far.

Should I keep going? Maybe there’s another ribbon ahead.

I’d later learn I followed some old markings from the previous year’s race. I guess the race organizers didn’t thoroughly remove all markings in that area since it was supposedly far from the designated route. If only I studied the course map, I’d have known something was wrong. But I didn’t, so I kept running through the previous race’s 50K route.

Back then, I didn’t have a smartphone. I had an old Nokia from my dad; the kind that can only call and text. And the signal was bad. So I had no way of knowing where I was via GPS, and I also couldn’t call someone for help.

I decided to reach the peak of the closest mountain I could find.

Maybe if I can get an overview of the place, I’ll have a better idea of where I am.

I reached the mountain’s summit and stared at a panorama of rice fields and cows. No houses or humans in sight. I knew then that I was very much lost.

At that point, I’d been running for over five hours in the mountains. The sun was high above, painful on the skin. I’d traveled so far from the race route that I’d run out of food and water. I only had one last bottle of Gatorade left. And not a single morsel of food.

The fatigue was growing underneath my muscles. My legs felt like chunks of cement blocks; they felt so heavy I could barely lift them.

I thought of Bear Grylls and whether I had to drink my pee while waiting for rescue.

I took a sip of my dwindling Gatorade and tried to push the panic away; those thoughts attack you when you’re in a vulnerable state. Thoughts that I might end up dying on that mountain of hunger or thirst or wild buffaloes. Or that they’d find me delirious, babbling about cows and rice fields, after days of searching.

 I started walking back, slowly. I climbed one hill after another. Midway up the last hill, I sat on the trail. My legs couldn’t walk anymore. Like, literally. People often say, “I can’t walk anymore” — even if, with enough willpower, they still can. But for the first time, regardless of willpower, I felt that my legs couldn’t take another step. So I sat in the middle of that trail.

My calves cramped for the third time and I screamed in pain.

The pain came along with the panic. Am I going to go Bear Grylls from here?

Freaking Bear Grylls. Why did I have to think of the man in the middle of a crisis?

I focused on my breathing to calm myself. I have to survive. So I rested for a bit. And slowly, while conserving my energy, I made my way back up, one super slow step after another.

When I finally returned to the intersection where I first got lost, some race officials were there. They were sweepers — race marshals who were going through the route to support laggards and slowpokes like me. At that point, more than eight hours had passed. The sweepers pointed me in the right direction. And I limped until I reached the final Aid Station, which was 10 kilometers away from the finish line.

My body had never felt so broken, so tired, so truly and utterly exhausted.

At the aid station, I thought I saw a bunch of angels — helpful, smiling volunteers who fed me fruits and nuts and marshmallows and chocolates. They gave me water and electrolyte drinks. They sprayed my legs with something that helped ease the cramps. It was one of the happiest moments in my life.

After I recovered enough to speak, I said to one of the volunteers:

“I don’t think I can walk the next 10 kilometers. When does the sweeper transport arrive?”

The transport was used to ferry people who could no longer finish the race on their own feet.

“The last transport just left,” the volunteer replied. “Another truck would arrive in four hours to sweep the 50K runners who’ll drop out.”

I took a deep breath. Four more hours. What do I do? Wait?

I’ve already lost the race. Even if I reached the finish line now, I’d still be a non-official finisher. But how do I go home and not feel super bad about the failure of my first 25K? Then a small thought came:

Why don’t I try limping my way down? Maybe the transport will arrive earlier and they’ll be able to pick me up along the way. Or if not, another sweeper will pass me by and help me.

Since the volunteers at the aid station couldn’t leave their posts to assist me, I decided to see how far I could go.

I filled my running vest with food and my bottles with electrolyte drinks. I bid farewell to those angels at the aid station, and then, finally, I dragged my feet and started limping.

I limped my way to the finish line after 12 hours.

I avoided the finish line itself. I was embarrassed to have people see my race bib and know that I was actually from the 25K, not the 50K, and that it took me 12 hours to reach the finish line. But apparently, the race director knew about this lost 25K runner after the sweepers reported it. And he kindly welcomed me and congratulated me for finishing — even if it wasn’t an “official” finish.

I made it back on my own two feet.

And that’s when I realized it: I did it even though I thought and fully believed I couldn’t.

I did it, even when I felt like giving up. I did it, even when I didn’t believe in myself.

So whenever I face something that destroys my self-confidence, I often return to that memory.

When I feel like giving up, or I’m spent and exhausted, and my brain and body are telling me I can’t do it anymore — I push myself to take one more tiny step. Just a little step forward, to see how far I can go.

Because I have done it before and succeeded. And I’m confident I can do it again.

Your Successful Race Season Starts Now

We looked at thousands of data points on Strava to determine what winter habits make for a successful summer season

In our monthly column in partnership with Strava, we take a deep dive into compelling data points that reveal the more human side of sport. 

While summer race goals might feel far off, athletes know winter is an important time to commit to consistency. With new year’s resolutions right around the corner (see our recent column on how to meet your yearly mileage goals), we looked at how the most consistent runners use their winter season to get stronger and faster.

Cross-Training Can Help Athletes Stay Consistent Through the Winter

Consistency is key for progressing training and minimizing injury risk. Staying consistent can help you avoid injury, and avoiding injury helps you stay consistent.

Muscle fiber growth and recruitment is improved with consistent stress and recovery cycles, and you don’t need huge efforts to reap the benefits. Short bouts of running (even just 10-20 minutes a day) can produce adaptations down to a cellular level. Consistency is also critical for aerobic and metabolic adaptations, helping your body more efficiently transport oxygen-rich red blood cells to your muscles via capillaries through increased capillarization, a process known as angiogenesis.

When it comes to winter training, don’t let perfect be the enemy of good. Twenty to thirty minutes on a treadmill or running in the snow is always better than zero (in the context of good health and recovery).

Suppose your goals are primarily to stay healthy and active through the winter. (While we didn’t assess how cross-training affects fitness or speed, it can be assumed that increased consistency and activity frequency usually correlate with improved speed, fitness, and health.)

In that case, cross-training can be an important part of your winter training regimen. Most runners on Strava don’t just run. Seventy-five percent of runners cross-train in the summer, too, using activities like outdoor cycling, walking and hiking to increase their activity frequency.

Runners who cross-trained in the summer had a 20 percent higher chance of staying active through the winter. Eighty-nine percent of athletes who cross-trained in the summer continued to be active throughout the winter, compared to 74 percent of athletes who didn’t cross-train through the summer and continued to be active in the winter.

Consistent athletes stay consistent through the winter. Twenty-four percent of athletes who run three times a week continue to hit that cadence in the winter, while 58 percent further reduce frequency. Fifty-two percent of athletes who run seven times a week in the summer continue to do so in the winter, with only 48 percent reducing run frequency. Still, half of all committed runners scale back to an extent in the winter, but more on that later when discussing offseasons.

While many runners may not be thrilled to take their runs indoors and onto the dreadmill, consistent athletes gravitate towards the treadmill when conditions are tough.

The share of indoor runs doubles from December to February on Strava, with 16 percent of all runs occurring indoors. The treadmill can be a great training tool for athletes, with elites like Elsey Davis logging significant ‘mill time before her Golden Ticket win at UTMB’s Val D’Aran.

According to Strava, winter cross-training also moves indoors, with activities like indoor cycling, strength training, and walking as the most popular cross-training options.

While there’s been much discussion about what constitutes an off-season and the benefits for athletes, Strava data shows that many highly committed and consistent runners take a down-season from higher volume.

Data suggests a modest off-season won’t set reasonably consistent runners back too much, but that athletes who are already running at a moderate to low volume (less than five times a week) should focus on maintaining a base of consistency through the winter rather than rushing to take time off of already low volume.

We’re not saying don’t take time off. Winter can be a great time to emphasize cross-training and strength training and enjoy a new mix of winter sports. But the higher your healthy volume is coming into the winter, the more flexibility athletes have to add additional winter activities into their training without sacrificing fitness. The athletes who have the most success (defined as returning to consistent running come summertime) put themselves in a position to jump back into spring training with a bit of a base.

Ideally, runners shouldn’t need more than a few weeks to get back to their main-season training volume. Swings in training volume increase the risk of injury, and weeks spent “getting back in shape” are less effective at progressing your training forward.

Runners who reduced running volume (defined in average weekly distance) in the winter by 1-10 percent averaged within ten percent of their summer average mileage in spring (March-May). Runners running three times a week in summer who reduced volume in winter by 1-10 percent were still able to put in spring training weeks just seven percent shy on average of their summer mileage.

Usually, this difference is a few miles a week, which is fairly easily re-established. On average, runners who ran five times a week remained within ten percent of their summer average mileage. Runners who reduced volume by 11 to 25 percent were still able to build back effectively in the spring, with three-time-a-week runners only 14 percent behind summer volume and five-time-a-week runners 19 percent behind their summer average.

Runners who reduced volume by 50 percent or more struggled to make up the volume come spring. Three-time-a-week and five-time-a-week runners couldn’t effectively bridge the gap in spring between their winter off-season and summer volume.

In winter, of runners who run three times weekly during the summer, only six percent stop being active altogether, suggesting that many fall back on indoor cross-training activities. Even among athletes from this group who paused running in the winter, 64 percent still logged at least one non-running activity per week. Of runners who average seven runs a week during the summer, there are still low inactivity rates (only eight percent halt activity completely), but only 23 percent of the group average at least one non-run activity a week.

In sum, folks who don’t cross-train don’t have much to fall back on in case of injury or crappy weather, and having a cross-training option that helps you stay active in those scenarios can help you stay more consistent and support your running in the long-term.

Staying on track for a goal is a tough line to walk. In 2022, 22.8 percent of Strava users who set yearly mileage goals finished within 80 to 90 percent of their goal. So close! Thirteen percent were within 10 percent of their goal. For folks within a stone’s throw of their yearly mileage but didn’t quite make it, here are some data-driven tips to make 2024 your most consistent year of running yet.

Who Is Courtney Dauwalter’s New Ultramarathon Partner? It’s Her Mom.

Here‘s how the Dauwalter duo completed a dream of crossing a finish line together

The last loop was quiet beneath the full moon. Their shuffling feet on the packed, pebble-tossed singletrack punctuated the sleeping Sonoran Desert as the duo moved through shadows of saguaro cactus and prickly pear. Millions of white pinpoints began to appear in the dark sky.

That’s when 66-year-old Tracy Dauwalter, mother of ultrarunner Courtney Dauwalter—who was coming off of historic back-to-back-to-back 100-mile wins of the 2023 Western States 100, Hardrock 100, and UTMB, including two course records—started resharing doubts with her daughter, who kindly reminded Tracy many times throughout the last 13 hours, “that’s not useful thinking, so let’s not think it.”

Occasionally, Courtney would redirect their attention, pointing out this unique section of the course that they’d been past twice before. This time, she built a 60-second container to stuff all those fears inside.

“Tell me all of your doubts and frustrations. You have one minute,” Courtney told her mom. “Once you finish, you can’t complain out loud anymore. It’s not serving us to get to this finish line.”

Tracy spewed all of her negative thoughts, from her rolling stomach to her aching muscles, which was an important reset to get out of the whirlpool of heavy thoughts. I signed up for this, Tracy humbly reminded herself. Nobody’s making me do this.

A dedicated team, the pair was running three loops side-by-side in matching long running shorts, white baggy tees, Salomon hydration vests, and cactus-themed socks, at the Halloween-themed Javelina Jundred 100K race. The ultrarunning event is held the closing weekend of October in the McDowell Mountain Regional Park, an hour northeast of Phoenix, Arizona. Temperatures can climb into the 90s by mid-morning and dip into the low 50s once daylight disappears behind the McDowell Mountain Range.

Now 38 years old and living in Leadville, Colorado, Courtney had participated in the event once before, in 2016, when she was the race’s outright winner. She set the then-course record for the 100K, one of several performances that drew national attention to her astonishing endurance and athleticism.

Tracy, who’d just recently started trail running, had covered ultra-distances at 12- and 24-hour events across flat gravel, but had never before run this far on a trail. They selected Javelina’s rolling 100K with 3,924 feet of vertical gain. The majority of the climbing is packed into the gradual ascent from the Javelina “Jeadquarters” aid station, which serves as the start and finish of the race and basecamp, to the far side of the loop, Jackass Junction.

It was exactly here, at this midway point, after slogging up the final climb over rolling hardened granite and sandy washes, where Tracy had a sticking point. Fortunately, Courtney was there to fill up her water bottles and point out all the tasty options when they reached the runner’s buffet.

“Please keep eating,” she said, as the electronic dance music bumped. A few hours earlier, they enjoyed a surprise pick-me-up of McDonald’s cheeseburgers, delivered by crew masters Dick Dauwalter, Courtney’s dad, and Kevin Schmidt, her husband. But one of the biggest highlights during the race for Tracy was watching Courtney interact and commune with so many people in the trail running community.

“Courtney does this amazing sport, but even more, I adore the person she is. It’s one of my favorite things to watch the love that’s out there for Courtney, and the way she responds. To be in that world with her was really special,” Tracy said. “She was also really kind to me, even when I was frumping and I’d fall down, she’d help pick me up.” Courtney let out a laugh.

“Mom, you only fell one time!” said Courtney, laughing.

“I know, but it was embarrassing,” Tracy said.

While Javelina was the mother-daughter’s debut trail ultra finish, side-by-side, the experience wasn’t their first race together. When Courtney was in high school, the duo finished a rollerblade marathon together in St. Paul. (Rollerblading is a major pastime in Minnesota, where Tracy grew up and still lives today.) Here, she met Dick and raised Courtney, a middle-child to two brothers.

While growing up, Tracy played softball and badminton. In college, she ran cross-country and track. “I’ve always been interested in sports and done them at a level that I could make the team. I was never a star. Being on a team is social and taxes your body while working up a sweat,” she said.

When the kids were interested in soccer, she and Dick organized an adult co-ed squad. Now, she jogs, plays volleyball, and golfs. She and Dick enjoy motorcycle tours, too, like venturing through the Elk Mountains in Colorado. “I’m not great at anything, but I can hold my own, and it’s super fun—I’m willing to do any sport,” she said. The motto was much the same for the kids.

"I thought that it would be so cool to share this sport that I love so much with this person I love so much. I knew she could do it.”

“They could try any activity. But once they committed, they had to see that season through—whether they enjoyed it or not, we were committed. We didn’t miss practices or games. We made sure those were a high priority for them and us. That drove our lives for many years with lots of fun times, but boy, that schedule was crazy—we’d slam-dunk dinner at 4 P.M. so that everybody could get to practice,” Tracy said.

An accountability mindset is one that leads to showing up in other areas of life from work to class to chores, following through on responsibilities and gritting out less desirable tasks. “When things get hard, like college classes, your option is not to quit,” Tracy said. “You dig in a little deeper, get help, and get it done, which is the same with any sport.”

But perhaps their most special ingredient is that the Dauwalters know how to have fun. “Having fun while doing those things is just as important,” Courtney said. “Our family always worked hard, but we play hard, too. All of that combined is what makes life special. Having that be deeply ingrained in who I am helps me in everyday life, but also, for sure, in ultrarunning.”

While watching Courtney grow up, Tracy noticed her daughter had a deep motivation as a person and athlete. One of her earliest memories was two-year-old Courtney, who could barely walk, repeatedly riding a Big Wheel tricycle downhill with a group of kids and insisting she’d wrestle the bike up the hill by herself. As a kid, Courtney and her siblings played soccer, often on the same teams. Later, they ran high school cross-country and track. To fill the winter months, she tried basketball, but she had a propensity to quickly foul out, taking the bench for the remainder of the game.

One day, she came home with a bright idea to Nordic ski instead, which was foreign for a family full of downhillers. They picked up the equipment, Courtney joined a competitive team, and she practiced in nearby school fields. “All she did was wipe out. All the time. Dick and I are thinking, ‘I wonder what this is going to look like?’” said Tracy.

During those foundational years, Courtney would rush home after a Nordic race to report the number of crashes she’d had. “In a 5K, I would be psyched if I only crashed nine times—tripping, planting my poles, tumbling the entire time. I was so bad,” she said.

But Tracy bought a beat-up pair of cross-country skis and started to practice alongside Courtney. “We learned together,” Tracy said. “It was more fun to crash with somebody than to crash by yourself.”

By the time Courtney graduated, she was an all-state runner and had earned All-American honors as a Nordic skier three times. She was a four-time state champion, and her team acquired two national championships. In 2003, Courtney moved west to Colorado, where she raced collegiately on the Nordic ski team at the University of Denver. Three years in, her DU team won 11 meets and the 2005 NCAA Championship.

“Courtney was really good at everything she did, and it wasn’t because she was a natural,” Tracy said. “Anytime she tried a sport, she didn’t have an immediate knack for it, but she hung in there to develop it. She was a hard worker and determined.”

Years later, in 2015, any remaining questions of physical stamina were laid aside—for both Tracy and Courtney, who proved to have a serious knack for endurance. Courtney broke the ribbon at her inaugural ultra race, the 2011 Prickly Pear 50K in San Antonio, Texas, and her curiosity about wanting to run longer continued to grow. The following year, she dropped out of the Colorado’s Run Rabbit Run 100 Mile race at mile 60 with throbbing legs, questioning her ability to cover that much ground in a single push.

Frustrated by not meeting her goal, Courtney registered for her first 24-hour race, the 2013 FANS Ultra Races, a more manageable format than an ultra on singletrack. Her family joined to crew and run laps, providing entertainment and support, including Tracy. They didn’t have much of a background in ultras and were green to any strategy.

Regardless, Courtney wrapped a total of 105 miles on that two-mile gravel loop around Lake Normandale Park in Bloomington, Minnesota, completing her first non-trail century-distance, and gaining confidence. Two months later, she crossed the finish line of the Superior Fall Trail Race 100 Miler in Lutsen, Minnesota, her first 100-mile distance on trail, and stood on the podium for second place.

Moving forward, the FANS Ultra Races became a family tradition. Courtney returned to the 2014 event, besting her first summer with 123.6 miles. Tracy decided, if she was going to crew and run laps with Courtney, she might as well sign up herself.

“She was like, ‘Heck, I’m going to spend the whole day out there anyways. Why not put some time on my feet?’” Courtney recalled.

In 2015, she tallied 109.2 miles while her mom, then 57 years old, covered 66.8 miles. Their annual pilgrimage continued in the 24- or 12-hour format, over the next several summers, coinciding with Courtney’s ultrarunning career picking up steam. She won the 2016 Run Rabbit Run 100 Mile with a 75-minute lead, and along with the title, the world’s largest ultra purse: $12,000.

By the summer of 2017, she retired from her position at the Girls Athletic Leadership School in Denver where she taught science and coached cross-country. “In an interview a few years ago,” Courtney said. “I was asked if I could run an ultramarathon with anyone in the world, who would it be? ‘My mom,’ I said. I thought that it would be so cool to share this sport that I love so much with this person I love so much. I knew she could do it.”

In an interview a few years ago, she was asked, if she could run an ultramarathon with anyone in the world, who would it be? “My mom,” she said. “I thought that it would be so cool to share this sport that I love so much with this person I love so much. I knew she could do it.”

Tracy heard the recording and, despite having never run on trails, she immediately called her daughter. “Let’s do it. I heard you want to run an ultra, so let’s sign up for something,” she said to Courtney. “If someone puts a challenge in front of me, it can even be pretty insane, and I’m a sucker for trying to rise to that challenge.” In addition to the competitive spark, the invitation felt sentimental.

Committed to doing an ultra together, they accepted that it might be a winding road to get there. The two picked the 2022 50-mile Superior Fall Trail Race in Lutsen. Mid-route, they missed the cut-off. Tracy shrugged and shook her head recounting the unfinished event. Courtney refused to let the DNF be a negative thing. “You learned so much in that first summer, mom,” she told her. “Dialing in all of those pieces helped immensely this year. And we decided, we’re not done. We still need a finish line together.”

As soon as registration opened in January, the duo signed up for the 2023 Javelina Jundred 100K. “I was nervous coming into this race because I was bouncing off of that epic fail of the first 50-miler we tried, which was a wake-up call. You have to prepare yourself,” said Tracy.

“It was not an epic fail,” Courtney countered.

That winter, Tracy clocked workouts on a treadmill. From April onward, she ran outside four or five days a week for 10 to 20 miles. Courtney researched singletrack trails around Lone Lake, which her mom became excited to explore. One of the biggest challenges of learning to run on trails is her tendency to shuffle and trip, Tracy confessed. Building confidence, she finished the Willow 20 Miler in May and Afton Trail Run 50K in July. Like her daughter, Tracy didn’t keep a close log of her mileage, and her training was not systematic.

Courtney’s advice, true and simple, rang in her mind: Spend time on your feet.

“People asked me if I coached her. Absolutely not,” Courtney said. “I did try to be helpful—harping on testing nutrition, wearing a pack so that her body gets used to one, and hiking uphills—so her race day could be much better. She was the one putting in the work and figuring out routes where she could do laps or get on hills. I admired from afar.”

“It helped that Courtney kept reminding me, ‘This was our run together, our race, and it could look however we could make it.’ If I crawled, that wouldn’t be disgusting. It got ugly, then it got not ugly,” Tracy added.

Staying lighthearted, Courtney countered, “It never got ugly. There was never a doubt that we would make it to the finish.”

Fortunately, the elation did come around. Next to her daughter, Tracy crossed the finish line of Javelina Jundred 100K in 17 hours and 38 minutes with a smile in the glowing lights, after staying up into the night running, eating, and sharing pain—but mostly, laughing—with her daughter. They’d gone full circle together, both on the circuit they’d traveled in the desert as well as in life.

“I think you beat me by, like, a half-second, mom,” Courtney said.

“I know,” Tracy bantered back. “I think I was really needing to be done, so I rushed with a half-second sprint.”

Canadian ultrarunner Priscilla Forgie loves this super-quick soup

It can be tricky to fit both healthy eating and regular running into an already jam-packed schedule, especially during the holiday season. This lightning-quick soup recipe, a favorite of Canadian ultrarunner Priscilla Forgie, is full of nutritious vegetables (easily tailored to your taste), with a lentil protein boost and lasagna noodles to up your carbohydrate game. It’s the perfect meal-in-a-pot to cook up in mere minutes after a nippy winter training session.

Forgie, an Edmonton-based ultrarunner, is coming off a stellar 2023 season, with a top-ten finish at Western States 100, and 12th place at CCC (100K) by UTMB. She enjoys experimenting with plant-based recipes (Forgie is vegan) to fuel her adventures, and for this soup, notes: “I always add extra nutritional yeast for added cheesiness.” While the recipe comes together in moments in an Instant Pot (or other pressure cooker), it can easily be made on the stovetop and left to simmer (leave the noodles out until shortly before you are ready to eat).

Instant Pot Lasagna Soup

(adapted from Vegan Richa)

Ingredients

1 tsp oil

1/2 onion chopped

1 cup chopped veggies (can be a combo of peppers, carrots, zucchini or whatever you prefer)

1/4 cup red lentils (uncooked)

1 cup tomato puree (or marinara or tomato sauce)

1-1.5 cups diced tomato

2 tsp Italian seasoning (1 tsp basil, 1/2 tsp oregano and parsley, with a generous dash of thyme/sage and rosemary)

1/4 tsp each onion powder, garlic powder

1/2 to 3/4 tsp salt (use less if there is salt in the tomato sauce)

2 cups water or veggie broth

5 oz lasagna sheets, broken into small pieces (or pasta of choice)

Black pepper and red pepper flakes to taste

1 Tbsp nutritional yeast

1 cup packed spinach (optional)

Directions

Heat oil in Instant Pot on sauté mode. When hot, add onion, garlic and a pinch of salt. Cook for two minutes, stirring occasionally.

Add veggies and stir in. Add red lentils, tomato purée, tomato, salt, Italian seasoning, onion powder and garlic powder and mix in. Add lasagna sheets and water or broth, mix in well (use smaller pieces for the Instant Pot).

Close the lid and pressure cook on manual high for three minutes. Let the pressure slow-release for 10 minutes, and if there is still pressure left in the pot, manually release it carefully to open.

Mix in the black pepper, pepper flakes and nutritional yeast. Taste and adjust salt and flavor if needed.

Fold in the spinach if using. Let sit for a few minutes before serving, and add vegan cheese (or regular cheese, if you prefer) for a more lasagna-like flavor. Enjoy!

America’s Oldest Continuously-Held Ultramarathon Is Only Looking Forward

After 60 years, the JFK 50 Mile Race is sticking to its community-centered approach, and people keep showing up

Mike Spinnler cries nearly every time he recounts memories as a runner and long-time race director of the JFK 50, the oldest continuously run ultra in the country.

Such memories include the time he first ran the iconic Maryland race when he was 12 years old, or the year he cheered on his 60-year-old wife as she crossed the finish, or memories of watching his two sons racing. For him, this race is a member of the family.

In 1993, five years after his tenth JFK finish, Spinnler became the race’s second race director, where he’s been ever since. By then, he’d set the course record (5:53:05) in 1982, and added another win in 1983, for a total of five top-five and six top-ten finishes.

Thirty years later, it’s still his pride and joy. He’ll immerse in the magic of the event again on Saturday, November 18, as more than 1,000 runners take the journey through the historic route that’s so dear to his heart.

“It just keeps growing in its prestige,” he says.

The JFK 50 started in 1963, the same year President John F. Kennedy was assassinated. The president had instituted a public health program to improve the nation’s fitness, supporting the launch of a series of 50-mile races around the country. But as years went on, the only one that stuck around was the JFK 50.

“Kennedy’s mission was this: Improve your physical fitness, improve your lifestyle, improve your country,” says Spinnler. “We heeded his call and have been doing it for 60-plus years.”

The JFK 50 course is located about an hour northwest of Washington D.C., covering traditional lands of the Indigenous Massawomek and Shawandassee Tule (Shawanaki/Shawnee). One of the race’s primary appeals is that it’s a horseshoe-shaped, point-to-point course with three distinct sections: The Appalachian Trail (miles 0-15), the Canal/Tow Path (miles 15-42), and the rolling finish (miles 42-50).

The race starts in Boonsboro, Maryland, follows a few miles of paved roads before connecting with the Appalachian Trail (AT), where the course climbs more than 1,000 vertical feet in five miles, crests to the high point, and follows rocky singletrack before dropping 1,000 vertical feet halfway into the race (mile 14.5), to connect with a flat marathon distance along the C&O Canal Tow Path. The last several miles are rolling country roads, where it finishes at Springfield Middle School in Williamsport.

In 2019, Seth Ruhling, an unsponsored athlete, showed up to the JFK 50, slept in his car the night before, and won the race in a blistering 5:38:11, his debut 50-miler. Within hours of winning, he sealed a sponsorship with The North Face.

Ruhling, 29, now lives and trains in Boulder, Colorado, and he’ll be returning for his second JFK 50. Since Ruhling’s 2019 win, he has made a name for himself with a sixth place finish at the Pikes Peak Marathon in 2021, second place at Montana’s Rut 50K, first place at the Broken Arrow Skyrace 46K, and most recently, sixth at CCC 100K during the week of UTMB in Chamonix, France.

In 2020, JFK 50 was one of the only races in the country that didn’t shut down with the pandemic. Ruhling had planned on racing, but got injured. “I always wanted to go back,” he says.

Ruhling was particularly drawn into this year’s race because of its deep field of registered elites, which had at one point included 2023 Western States winner Tom Evans, Matt Daniels, Adam Merry, and Sean Van Horn—all of whom have since dropped.

His strategy for the mixed course, which requires technical trail chops as well as fast road turnover, is to attack every single section. He says that, while the JFK 50 is known more as a “track race,” it’s a mistake to discount the early trail miles. “The record is going to happen on the towpath, sure, but only if it’s set up with efficient running on the AT section,” he says.

Courtney Dauwalter completes 100K race with her mom

After her historic year in ultra-trail, how could Courtney Dauwalter possibly squeeze in another success this season? The answer, it seems, was to add another Dauwalter.

The American trail-running legend, who in 2023 became the first athlete to win Western States, Hardrock 100 and UTMB in the same season, realized her long-held goal of completing an ultramarathon with her mother, as she and Tracy Dauwalter crossed the finish line of the 100K course at Arizona’s Javelina Jundred this weekend.

The Javelina 100K course consists of three loops that take runners through trails northeast of Phoenix. The route features rolling singletrack through the Sonoran Desert, leading past giant saguaro cactus and granite boulders in and around McDowell Mountain Regional Park.

The elder Dauwalter crossed the finish line in 17 hours, 38 minutes and 33 seconds, one second ahead of Courtney. The Dauwalter duo just cracked the top 100 in the 100K women’s division, landing in 98th and 99th place. They finished in 180th and 181st place overall among the 100K’s 301 finishers.

Before the pair toed the start line Saturday, Courtney shared in an Instagram post that it has been a “dream” of hers to run an ultramarathon with her mother.

“Last year we tried a 50 mile race together in Minnesota but got cut off for time. We decided that was just one part of our story together and are now back trying to get that sweet, sweet finish line,” she wrote.

While crossing the finish line was a triumph for the mother-daughter team, the overall effort was a fuller family affair, with Courtney’s husband, Kevin Schmidt, and her father, Dick Dauwalter, crewing the duo.

“Kevin and my dad are back on crew duty so I have no doubt we’ll be plenty taken care of,” wrote Courtney.

A subsequent Instagram post showing the mother and daughter celebrating their accomplishment drew a long list of commenters sharing their congratulations—and more than a few remarks about where the younger got her famously winning smile.

“It’s not hard to see where @courtneydauwalter gets her awesome smile from,” wrote one wellwisher. Added another: “Who the heck is their dentist?”

It was also an unforgettable race for the 100K’s top finishers. Topping the men’s podium in the 100K race in 7:15:53 was Rajpaul Pannu, who broke the course record set last year by Scott Traer (7:31:46). Anna Kacius, the top women’s finisher, placed second overall in 8:13:07, beating the course record set last year by Lotti Brinks (8:36:01).

Jonathan Rea ran 12:43:10 to break the 100-mile course record set last year by Dakota Jones (12:58:02).  Heather Jackson won the women’s 100-miler in 14:24:47.

Australian ultrarunner makes history by racing UTMB and Ironman World champs

Ultrarunner Lucy Bartholomew made running and triathlon history on Sunday, becoming only the second woman ever to finish the 171-kilometre Ultra-Trail du Mont-Blanc (UTMB) as well as the Ironman World Championships in the same year.

Bartholomew ran remarkably well at both events, taking a tenth-place finish at UTMB in 27:39:22, and completing what was only her second Ironman in 10:43:41, with a 3:31 marathon time.

The double–nearly 400 kilometres of challenging racing–has only been conquered by one woman before Bartholomew: Ireland’s Diana Hogan-Murphy, in 2014. Bartholomew is also the fastest person of any gender to have completed both events in the same year.Bartholomew shot to fame in the ultrarunning world in 2018, when she was the third female at the Western States 100. The runner shared on social media that she lost some of the joy in racing in the years following her WSER podium, and after her 2022 race ended in a DNF, she wasn’t sure if she’d race 100 miles again.

“You show up (almost) every day to run so that you can run even more on the race day, finish and not be able to run, only to want to run, and then run to aid in the recovering of the running and to prepare for more running,” Bartholomew explained. “To take myself out of this cycle I decided to tick a bucket list idea to do an IRONMAN triathlon. It was a ‘one day, someday’ objective that I pulled forward to help pull me out of feeling stuck.”Bartholomew’s first Ironman, in Western Australia in December 2022, qualified her for the Kona World Championship event in Hawaii.

While the runner had only planned to complete one Ironman, she felt she couldn’t miss the opportunity to race in Hawaii. “Not being one who steps down from a challenge, it seemed right to go one more,” she said.

“I’ve swum, biked and run my way to fantastic recovery from UTMB and moderate triathlon fitness for Kona,” Bartholomew said pre-race. “It was a fun, fine balance to play with these two big events so close to each other.”

Molly Seidel Stunned the World (and Herself) with Olympic Bronze in Tokyo. Then Life Went Sideways.

She stunned the world (and herself) with Olympic bronze in Tokyo. Then life went sideways. How America’s unexpected marathon phenom is getting her body—and brain—back on track. 

On a clear December night in 2019, Molly Seidel was at a rooftop holiday party in Boston, wearing a black velvet dress, doing what a lot of 25-year-olds do: passing a joint between friends, wondering what she was doing with her life.

“You should run the Olympic Trials,” her sister, Izzy, said, as smoke swirled in the chilly air atop The Trackhouse, a retail shop and community hub on Newbury Street operated by the running brand Tracksmith. “That would be hilarious if you did that as your first marathon.” 

Molly, an elite 10K racer who’d spent much of 2019 injured, looked out at the city lights, and laughed. Why the hell not? She’d just qualified for the trials, winning the San Antonio Half with a time of 1:10:27. (“The shock of the century,” as she’d put it.) True, 13.1 miles wasn’t 26.2—but running a marathon was something to do. If only because she never had before. 

A four-time NCAA track and cross-country champion at The University of Notre Dame in Indiana, Molly had moved to Boston in 2017, where she’d worked three jobs to supplement her fourth: running for Saucony’s Freedom Track Club. The $34,000 a year that Saucony paid her (pre-tax, sans medical) didn’t go far in one of America’s most expensive cities. Chasing kids around as a babysitter, driving around as an Instacart shopper, and standing around eight hours a day as a barista—when you’re running 20 miles a day—wasn’t ideal. But whatever, she had compression socks. And she was downing free coffee and paying rent, flying to Flagstaff, Arizona, every so often for altitude camps, and having a good time. Doing what she loved. The only thing she’s ever wanted to do since she was a freckly fifth-grader in small-town Wisconsin clocking a six-minute mile in gym class. 

“I was hustling, and I loved it. It was such a fun, cool time of my life,” she says, summarizing her 20s. Staring into Molly’s steely brown eyes, listening to her speak with such clarity and conviction about her struggles since, it’s easy to forget: She is still only 29. 

After Molly had hip surgery on her birthday in July 2018, her doctors gave her a 50/50 chance of running professionally again. By summer 2019, she’d parted ways with FTC, which left her sobbing on the banks of the Charles River, getting eaten alive by mosquitoes and uncertainty. Her biggest achievement lately had been being named #2 Top Instacart Shopper (in Flagstaff; Boston was big-time).

The day after that rooftop party, Molly asked her friend and former FTC teammate Jon Green, who she’d newly anointed as her coach: “Think I should run the marathon trials?” Sure, he shrugged. Nothing to lose. Maybe it’d help her train for the 10K, her best shot—they both thought—at making a U.S. Olympic team. 

“I’m going to get my ass kicked six ways to Sunday!” she told the host of the podcast Running On Om six weeks before the trials in Atlanta.

Instead, on February 29, 2020, she kicked some herself. Pushing past 448 of the fastest, most-experienced women marathoners in the country, coming in second with a 2:27:31, earning more in prize money ($60,000) than she had in two years of racing—and a spot on the U.S. trio for the 2020 Tokyo Olympics, along with Kenyan-born superstars Aliphine Tuliamuk and Sally Kipyego. “I don’t know what’s happening right now!” Molly kept saying into TV cameras, wrapped in an American flag, as stunned as a lottery winner. 

Saucony who? Puma came calling. Along with something Molly hadn’t anticipated: the spotlight. An onslaught of social media followers. And two weeks later, a global pandemic and lockdown—and all the anxiety and isolation that came with it. She was drowning, and she hadn’t even landed in Tokyo yet.

The 2020 Olympics, as we all know, were postponed to 2021. An emotional burden but a physical boon for Molly, in that it allowed her to get in a second marathon. In London, she finished two minutes faster than her debut. When the Olympics finally rolled around, she was ready. 

Before the race, Molly says, “I was thinking: ‘Once I cross the starting line, I get to call myself an Olympian and that’s a win for the day.’” 

But then she crossed the finish line—with a finger-kiss to the sky and a guttural Yesss!—in third place with a 2:27:46, just 26 seconds behind first (Kenya’s Peres Jepchirchir). And realized: She gets to call herself an Olympic medalist forever. Only the third American woman to ever earn one in the marathon.

Lots of kids have fleeting hopes of making it to the Olympics. I remember thinking I could be Mary Lou Retton. Maybe FloJo, with shorter fingernails. Then I decided I’d rather be Madonna or president of the United States and promptly forgot about it. But Molly held tight to her Olympic aspirations. She still has a poster she made in 2004, with stickers and a snapshot of her smiley 10-year-old self, to prove it. “I wish I will make it into the Olympics and win a gold medal,” she wrote, and signed it: Molly Seidel, the “y” looping back to underline her name. In case there was any doubt as to who, specifically, would be winning the medal.

Molly grew up in Nashotah, Wisconsin, and is the eldest of three. Her sister and brother, younger by not quite two years, are twins. Izzy is a running influencer and corporate content creator for companies like Peloton; and Fritz favors Formula 1 racing and weightlifting and works for the family’s leather-tanning business. The family was active, sporty. Dad, Fritz Sr., was a ski racer in college; Mom, Anne, a cheerleader. You can tell. Watching clips of Molly’s mom and dad watching the Olympic race from their backyard patio, jumping up and down, tears streaming, is the kind of life-affirming moment you wish you could bottle. “I’m in shock. I’m in disbelief,” Molly says into the mic, beaming. “I just wanted to come out today and I don’t know…stick my nose where it didn’t belong and see what I could come away with. And I guess that’s a medal.” When the interviewer holds up her family on FaceTime, Molly breaks down. “We did it,” she says into the screen between sobs and smiles. “Please drink a beer for me.

Molly hasn’t always been unabashedly herself, even when everyone thought she was. A compartmentalizer to the core, she spent most of her life hiding a huge part of it: anorexia, bulimia, anxiety, obsessive-compulsive disorder, debilitating depression. 

It started around age 11, when she learned to disguise OCD tendencies, like compulsively knocking on wood, silently reciting prayers “to avoid God getting mad at me,” she says. “It was a whole thing.” She says her parents were aware of the behaviors, but saw them more as odd little habits. “They had no reason to suspect anything. I was very high-functioning,” she says. “They didn’t realize that it was literally taking over my life.” 

She wasn’t officially diagnosed with OCD until her freshman year of college, when she saw a therapist for the first time. At Notre Dame, disordered eating took hold, quietly yet visibly, as it does for up to 62 percent of female college athletes, according to the National Eating Disorders Association. As recently as the Tokyo Olympics, she was making herself throw up in the airport bathroom, mere days before taking the podium. Molly hesitates to share that detail; she fears a girl might read this and interpret it as behavior to model. “Having been in that place as a younger athlete, I know I would have,” she says. But she also understands: Most people just don’t get how unrelenting eating disorders can be. 

In February 2022, she finally received a diagnosis of the root cause for all of it: ADHD. About being diagnosed, she says, “It made me feel really good, like [I don’t have] a million different disorders. I have a disorder that manifests itself in a lot of different symptoms.”

She waited to try Adderall until after the Boston Marathon in April, only to drop out at mile 16 due to a hip impingement. Initially, the meds made her feel fantastic. Focused. Free. Until she realized Adderall hurt more than it helped. She couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, lost too much weight. Within weeks, she devolved. “The eating disorder came roaring back,” she says, referring to it, as she often does, as its own entity, something that exists outside of herself. That ruthlessly takes control over her very need for control. “I almost think of it as an alter ego,” she explains. “Adderall was just bubblegum in the dam,” as she puts it. She ditched the drug, and her life—professionally, physically—unraveled.

In July 2022, heading into the World Championships, she bombed the mental health screening, answering the questions with brutal honesty. She’d been texting Keira D’Amato weeks prior. “Yo girl, things are pretty bad right now. Get ready…” Sobbing on the sidewalk in Eugene, Oregon, she texted D’Amato again. And the USATF made it official: D’Amato would take her spot on the team. Then Molly did what she’d been “putting off and putting off”— checked herself into eating disorder treatment for the second time since 2016, an outpatient program in Salt Lake City, where her new boyfriend was living at the time. 

Somehow (see: expert compartmentalizer) mid-meltdown, in February 2022, she had met an amateur ultrarunner named Matt, on Hinge. A quiet, lanky photographer, he didn’t totally get what she did. “I didn’t understand the gravity of it,” he tells me. “I was like, Oh she’s a pro runner, that’s cool. I didn’t realize she was, like, the pro runner!” 

Going back to treatment “was pretty terrible,” she says. At least she could stay with Matt. Hardly a honeymoon phase, but the new relationship held promise. “I laid it all out there,” says Molly. “And he was still here for it, for all the messiness. It was really meaningful.” And a mental shift. “He doesn’t see me as just Molly the Runner.”

Almost a year later, on a freezing April evening in Flagstaff, Molly is racing around Whole Foods, palming a head of cabbage, grabbing a thing of hummus, hunting for deals even though she doesn’t need to anymore. 

“It’s all about speed, efficiency, and quality,” she says, explaining the secret to her earlier Instacart success. She checks the expiration date on a container of goat cheese and beelines for the butcher counter, scans it faster than an Epson DS3000, though not without calculation, and requests two tomato-and-mozzarella-stuffed chicken breasts. Then she darts over to the beverage aisle in her marshmallow-y Puma slip-ons that Matt custom-painted with orange poppies. She grabs a case of La Croix (tangerine), then zips to the checkout. We’re in and out in under 15 minutes and 50 bucks, nothing bruised or broken.

Other than her body. Let’s just say: If Molly were an avocado or a carton of eggs, she probably wouldn’t pass her own sniff test. The week we meet, she is just coming off a month of no running. Not a single mile. She’s used to running twice a day, 130 miles a week. No wonder she’s spraying her kitchen counter with Mrs. Meyer’s and scrubbing the stovetop within minutes of welcoming me into her new home. 

The place, which she shares with Matt and his Australian border collie, Rye, has a post-college flophouse feel: a deep L-shaped couch draped in Pendleton blankets, a bar cluttered with bottles of discount wine, a floor lamp leaning like the Tower of Pisa next to a chew toy in the shape of a ranch dressing bottle. Scattered about, though, are reminders that an elite runner sleeps here. Or at least tries to. (“Pro runner by day, mild insomniac by night” reads the bio on her rarely used account on what used to be Twitter.) There’s a stick of Chafe Safe on the coffee table. Shalane Flanagan’s cookbooks on the counter. And framed in glass, propped on the office floor: Molly’s Olympic kit—blue racing briefs with the Nike Swoosh, a USA singlet, her once-sweat-drenched American flag, folded in a triangle. “I’m not sure where to hang it,” she says. “It seems a little ostentatious to have it in the living room.” 

With long brown curls and a round, freckly face, Molly has an aw-shucks look so innocent that it’s hard, at first, to perceive her struggles. Flat-out ask her, though—How are you even functioning?—and she’ll tell you: “I’m an absolute wreck. There’s no worse feeling than being a pro runner who can’t run. You just feel fucking useless.” Tidying a stack of newspapers, she adds, “Don’t worry, I’ve had therapy today.” 

She’s watched every show. (Save Ted Lasso, “too sickly sweet.”) Listened to every podcast. (Armchair Expert is a favorite.) She’s got nothing else to do but PT and go easy on the ElliptiGo in the garage, onto which she’s rigged a wooden bookstand, currently clipped with A History of God: The 4,000 Year Quest of Judaism, Christianity and Islam. “I don’t read running books,” she says. “I need something different.”

Like most runners—even the most amateur among us—running, moving, is what keeps her sane. “What about swimming? Can you at least swim?” I ask, projecting my own desperation if I were in her size 8.5 shoes. “I fucking hate swimming,” says Molly. Walking? “Oh, yeah, I can go on walks. Another. Long. Walk.”

The only thing she has on her schedule this week is pumping up a local middle school track team before their big meet. The invitation boosted her spirits. “Should I just memorize Miracle on Ice?” she says, laughing. “No, I know, I’ll do Independence Day.”

Injuries are nothing new for Molly. Par for the course for any professional athlete. But especially for women, like her, who lack bone density—and have since high school, when, according to a study in the Orthopedic Journal of Sports Medicine, nearly half of female runners experience period loss. Osteoporosis and its precursor, osteopenia, are rampant in female runners, leading to ongoing issues that threaten not just their college and professional running careers, but their lives.

Still, Molly admits, laughing: She’s especially accident-prone. I ask her to list every scratch she’s ever had, which takes her 10 minutes, and goes all the way back to babyhood, when she banged her head against the bathtub spout. There was a cracked spine from a sledding incident in 8th grade, a broken collarbone from a ski race in high school, shredded knee cartilage in college when a driver hit her while she was riding a bike. “Ribs are constantly breaking,” she says. In 2021, two snapped, and refused to heal in time for the New York City Marathon. No biggie. She ran through the pain with a 2:24:42, besting Deena Kastor’s 2008 time by more than a minute and setting the American course record.

Molly’s latest injury? Glute tear. “Literally a gigantic pain in the ass,” she posted on Instagram in March. Inside, Molly was devastated. Pulling out of the Nagoya Marathon—the night before her 6:45 a.m. flight to Japan, no less—was not in the plan. The plan, according to Coach Green, had been simple. It always is. If the two of them even have one. “Just to have fun and be consistent.” And get a marathon or two in before the Olympic Trials in February 2024. 

She’d been finally—finally—fit on all fronts; ready to race, ready to return. She needed Nagoya. And then, nothing. “It feels like I’m back at the bottom of the well,” says Molly, driving home from Whole Foods in her Toyota 4Runner. “This last year-and-a-half has been so difficult. It’s just been a lot of doubt. How do I approach this, as someone who has now won a medal? Like, man, am I even relevant in this sport anymore?” She pops a piece of gum in her mouth. I wait for her to offer me some, because that’s what you do with gum, but she doesn’t. She’s so in her head. “It’s hard when you’re in the thick of it, you know, to figure out: Why the fuck do I keep doing this? When it just breaks my heart over and over and over again?” 

We pull into her driveway. “I was prepared for the low period after Tokyo,” she says. “But this has been much longer and lower than I expected.” 

The curse of making it to the Olympics, let alone coming back with a medal: expectations. Molly’s own were high. “I think I thought, after the Olympics, if I win a medal, then I will be fixed, it will fix everything.” Instead, in a way, it made everything worse. 

That’s the problem that has plagued Molly for most of her running career: Her triumphs and troubles intermingle, like thunder and lightning. Which, by the way, she has been struck by. (A minor backyard-grill, summer-thunderstorm incident. She was fine.)

The next morning in Flagstaff, Molly’s feeling like she can run a mile, maybe two. It’s snowing, though, and she doesn’t want to risk the slippery track, so we meet at Campbell Mesa Trails. She loops a band around the back of her truck to stretch and sends me off into the trees to run alone while she does a couple of laps on the street.

Molly leaves for an acupuncture appointment, and we reunite later at Single Speed Coffee (“the best coffee in Flagstaff,” promises the ex-barista who drinks up to three cups a day). We curl up on a couch like it’s her living room, and she talks as freely—and as loudly—as if it was. Does she realize everyone can hear her? She doesn’t care. I guess that’s what happens when you’ve grown so comfortable sharing—in therapy, on podcasts, in a three-part video series on ADHD for WebMD—you just…share. Loud and proud. 

Mental illness is so insidious, says Molly. “It’s not always this Sylvia Plath stick-my-head-in-a-fucking-oven thing, where you’re sad all the time,” she says. “High-functioning depressed people live normal successful lives. I can be having the happiest moment, and three days later I’m in a total downward spiral.” It’s something you never recover from, she says, but you learn to manage. 

“I’m this incredibly flawed person who struggles so much. I think: How could I have won this thing when I’m so flawed? I look at all the people around me, all these accomplished people who have their shit together, and I’m like, ‘one of these things is not like the other,’” she says, taking a sip of her flat white. “I was literally in the Olympic Village thinking: Everybody is probably looking at me wondering: Why the hell is she here?” 

They weren’t. They don’t. She knows that. 

And yet her mind races as fast as she does. It takes up So. Much. Space. When she’s running, though, the noise disappears. She’s not Olympic Molly or Eating Disorder Molly, she’s not even, really, Runner Molly. “When I’m running,” she says, “I’m the most authentic version of myself.” 

Talking helps, too. Molly first shared her mental health history a few years ago, “before she was famous,” as she puts it. After the Olympics, though, she kept talking and hasn’t stopped. The Tokyo Games were a turning point, she says. Suddenly the most revered athletes in the world were opening up about their mental health. Molly credits Simone Biles’s bravery for her own. If Biles, and Michael Phelps and Naomi Osaka, could come clean... then maybe a nerdy, niche-y, unlikely medaling marathoner could, too.

“Those guys got a lot more shit for it than I did,” says Molly. “I got off easy. I’m not a household name,” she laughs. She knows she can be candid and off the cuff—and chat freely in a not-empty café—in a way Biles never could. “I’m a nobody!” she laughs.

Still, a nobody with 232,000 Instagram followers whom she has touched in very IRL ways—becoming an unintentional poster woman for normalizing mental health challenges among athletes. “You are such an incredible inspiration,” @1percentpeterson posts, one comment of a zillion similar. “It’s ok to not be ok!” says another. Along with all the online love is, of course, online hate. Molly rattles off a few lowlights: “She’s an attention-seeking whore,” “Her bones are so brittle she’ll never race again,” “She’s running so badly and posting a lot she should really focus on her running more.” Molly finds it curious. “I’m like, ‘If you hate me, you don’t need to follow me, sir.’” 

It’s Molly’s nobody-ness—what Outside writer Martin Fritz Huber called her “runner-next-door” persona, and I’ll just call “genuine personality”—that has made her somebody in running’s otherwise reserved circles. 

Somebody who (gasp!) high-fives her sister in the middle of a major race, as she did at mile 18 of the 2021 New York City Marathon. “They shat on me in the broadcast for it,” she says. “They were like, ‘She’s not taking this seriously.’” (Except, uh, then she set the American course record, so…) 

Somebody who, obviously, swears like a sailor and dances awkwardly on Instagram, who dresses up like a turkey, and viral-tweets about getting mansplained on an airplane. (“He starts telling me how I need to train high mileage & pulls up an analysis he’d made of a pro runner’s training on his phone. The pro runner was me. It was my training. Didn’t have the heart to tell him.”)

Somebody who makes every middle-aged mom-runner I know swoon like a Swiftie and say: “OMG! YOU HUNG OUT WITH MOLLY SEIDEL!!?” Middle-aged dad-runners, too. “I saw her once in Golden Gate Park!” my friend Dan fanboyed when he heard. “I waved!” Did she wave back? “She smiled,” he says, “while casually laying down 5:25s.”

And somebody who was as outraged as I was that I bought a $16 tube of French toothpaste from my hip Flagstaff motel. (It was 10 p.m.! It was all they had!) “For that price it better contain top-shelf cocaine,” she texted. Lest LetsRun commenters take that tidbit out of context: It’s a joke. It’s, in part, what makes Molly America’s most relatable pro runner: She’s not afraid to make jokes. (While we’re at it… Don’t knock her for smoking a little legal weed, either. That’s so 2009. Per the World Anti-Doping Agency: Cannabis is prohibited during competition, not at a Christmas party two months before it. Per Molly: “People would be shocked to know how many pro runners smoke weed.”)

I can’t believe I never asked to see it. Molly’s medal. A real, live Olympic medal. Maybe because it was tucked into a credenza along with Matt’s menorah and her maneki-neko cat figurines from Japan. But I think it was because hanging out with Molly felt so…normal, I almost forgot she’d won one. 

People think elite distance runners have to be one-dimensional, she says. That they have to be sculpted, single-minded, running-only robots. “Because that’s what the sport has been,” she says. 

Molly falls for it, too, she says. She scrolls the feeds, sees her fellow pros living seemingly perfect lives. She wants everyone to know: She’s not. So much so that she requested we not print the photos originally commissioned for this story, which were taken when she was at the lowest of lows. (“It’s been...refreshing...to be pretty open and real with Rachel [about] the challenges of the last year,” she wrote in an email to Runner’s World editors. “But the photos [were taken at] a time when I was really struggling and actively trying to hide how bad my eating disorder had become.”)

Molly finds the NYC Marathon high-five thing comical but indicative of a more serious issue in elite running: It takes itself too seriously. It’s too…elitist. Too stilted. “Running a marathon is a pretty freaking cool experience!” If you’re not having fun, she asks rhetorically, what’s the point? Still, she admits, she isn’t always having fun. Though you wouldn’t know it from her Instagram. “Oh, I’m very good at making it seem like I am,” she says.

She used to enjoy social media when it was just her friends. Before she gained 50,000 followers in a single day after the trials, and some 70,000 on Strava. Before the pandemic, before the Olympics. Keeping up with content became a toxic chore. “You feel like you’re just feeding this beast and it’s never going to stop,” she says. She’s taken to deleting the app off her phone, reloading it only to fulfill contractual agreements and post for her sponsors, then deleting it again. 

As much as she hates having to post, she enjoys plugging products the only way that feels natural: through parody. As does Izzy, her influencer sister, who, like Molly, prefers to skewer rather than shill (à la their idea behind their joint Insta account: @sadgirltrackclub). “The classic influencer tropes make me want to throw up,” she says (perverse pun as a recovering bulimic not intended). “New Gear Drop!’ or ‘This is my Outfit of the Day!’ Cringe. “Hot Girl Instagram is not how I identify,” she says. 

Nor is TikTok. “Sponsors tell me all the time: You should TikTok! I’m like, ‘I am not doing TikTok.’ I know how my brain works. They’ll say, ‘We’ll pay you less if you don’t’—and I’m, like, I don’t care.”

And to those sponsors who ghosted her after she returned to eating disorder treatment, good riddance. “Michelob dropped me like a bad habit,” she says. “Whatever. You have watery-ass beer anyway.”

To those who have stood by her, though, she’s utterly devoted. Pissed she couldn’t wear the Puma panther head to toe in Tokyo, Molly took off her Puma Deviate Elites and tied them over her shoulder, obscuring the Nike logo on her Olympic singlet for all the world to see. Or not see. “Nike isn’t paying my fucking bills.”

The love is mutual, says Erin Longin, a general manager at Puma. After decades backing legends like Usain Bolt, Puma was relaunching road running and wanted Molly as their guinea pig. “She’s a serious athlete and competitor, but she also has fun with it,” says Longin. “Running should be fun. Molly embodies that.” At their first meeting, in January 2020, Molly made them laugh and nerded out over their new shoes. “We all left there, fingers crossed she’d sign with us,” says Longin.

Come February, they all flipped out. Longin was watching the trials, not expecting much. And then: “We were all messaging, “OMG!!” Then Molly killed in London. Medaled in Tokyo. “What she did for us in that first year…” says Longin. “We couldn’t have planned it!” 

Then came the second year, and the third, and throughout it all—injuries, eating disorder treatment, missed races, missed opportunities—Puma hasn’t flinched. “It’s easy for a company to do the right thing when everything is going great,” Molly posted in April, heartbroken from her couch instead of Heartbreak Hill. “But it’s when the sh*t hits the fan and they’re still right there with you….” She received 35,000 hearts—and a call from Longin: “You make me feel so proud.” 

Does it matter to Puma if Molly never places—never races—again? “Nope,” Longin says. 

My last afternoon in Flagstaff, it’s cloudy skies, still freezing. I find Molly on the high school track wearing neoprene gloves, black puffy coat, another pair of Pumas. Her breath is white, her cheeks red. Her legs churning in even, elegant strides. Upright, alone, at peace, backed by snow-dusted peaks. Running itself is what matters, not racing, she tells me. “I honestly don’t give a shit about winning,” she says. All she wants—really wants, she says—is to be healthy enough to run until she’s old and gray.

Molly’s favorite runner is one who didn’t get to grow old. Who made his mark decades before she was born: Steve Prefontaine. “Pre raced in such a genuine way. He made people feel something,” she says. “The sports performances you truly remember,” she adds, “are the ones where you see the struggle, the work, the realness.” 

Sounds familiar. “I hate conversations like, ‘Who’s the GOAT?’” Molly continues. “Who fucking cares? Who’s got the story that’s going to get people excited? That’s going to make some kid want to go out and do it?” 

I know one of those kids: My best friend’s daughter, Quinn, a rising track phenom in Oregon, who has dealt with anxiety and OCD tendencies. She has a picture of Molly Seidel, and her times, taped to her bedroom wall. This past May, Quinn joined Nike’s Bowerman Club. She was named Oregon Female Athlete of the Year Under 12 by USATF. She wants to run for Notre Dame. 

“Quinn loves running more than anything,” her mom tells me, texting photos of her elated 11-year-old atop the podium. “But I don’t know…” She’s unsure about setting her daughter on this path. How could she not, though? It’s all Quinn wants to do. Maybe what Quinn, too, feels born to do. 

It’ll be okay, I tell her, I hope. Quinn has something Molly never had: She has a Molly. 

Molly and I catch up via phone in June. A team of doctors in Germany has overhauled her biomechanics. She’s been running 110 miles a week, feeling healthy, hopeful. Happy. A month later, severe anemia (and accompanying iron infusions) interrupts her summer racing schedule. She cancels the couple of 10Ks she had planned and entertains herself by popping into the UTMB Speedgoat Mountain Race: a 28K trail run through Utah’s Little Cottonwood Canyon—coming in second with a 3:49:58. Molly’s focus is on the Chicago Marathon, October 8th; her first major race in almost two years. 

Does it matter how she does? Does it matter if she slays the Olympic Trials in February? If she makes it to Paris 2024? If she fulfills her childhood dream and brings home gold? 

Nah. Not if—like Matt, like Puma, like, finally, even Molly herself—you see Molly the Runner for who she really is: Molly the Mere Mortal. She’s the imperfect one who puts it perfectly: What matters isn’t her time or place, how she performs on the pavement. Or social media posts. What matters—as a professional athlete, as a person—is how she makes people feel: human. 

She’d been finally—finally—fit on all fronts; ready to race, ready to return. She needed Nagoya. And then, nothing. “It feels like I’m back at the bottom of the well,” says Molly, driving home from Whole Foods in her Toyota 4Runner. “This last year-and-a-half has been so difficult. It’s just been a lot of doubt. How do I approach this, as someone who has now won a medal? Like, man, am I even relevant in this sport anymore?” She pops a piece of gum in her mouth. I wait for her to offer me some, because that’s what you do with gum, but she doesn’t. She’s so in her head. “It’s hard when you’re in the thick of it, you know, to figure out: Why the fuck do I keep doing this? When it just breaks my heart over and over and over again?” 

He Qualified for Team USA. Then Came the Bill.

Even as trail and ultrarunning explode, the spoils of professionalization aren’t spread equally across the sport. Athletes on this year’s U.S. 24-hour team are looking to change that

Scott Traer qualified for his first U.S. national team more than a decade ago in 2012. He was new to the sport and naive about what it took to compete at the international level—even after being selected as one of the country’s best athletes in the 24-hour discipline, a niche tributary of trail and ultrarunning where athletes complete as many laps around a track as possible within 24 hours.

While the 24-hour race format may seem eccentric, well-known names like Courtney Dauwalter, Kilian Jornet, and Camille Heron have dabbled in the ultra-track scene. International governing bodies regulate the discipline with USA Track & Field (USATF), the national governing body for track and field, cross country, road running, race walking, and mountain-ultra-trail (MUT) disciplines, overseeing the American contingent. 

Traer, then 31, was working odd construction jobs in and around Boston to make ends meet while training when he got the call from USATF that he had been selected for Team USA.

“I was really excited,” says Traer. “Then, I found out that I had to pay for everything. So I was like, ‘Forget about it.’” 

That financial reality took the wind out of Traer’s sails. He didn’t have the disposable income to foot the bill for international travel and didn’t have paid time off from his jobs. While he was disappointed that he wouldn’t get to represent his country in 2012, he was still determined to pursue his dream of chasing a career in coaching and racing. 

Now, Traer, 42, is a full-time coach living near Phoenix and working with the Arizona-based event organization Aravaipa Running as an assistant race director. He has earned top accolades in the sport, including a course record at the Javelina 100K and a Golden Ticket to Western States at the Black Canyons 100K, eventually leading to a top-ten finish at the Western States Endurance Run. 

True to his blue-collar roots, he is known for racing in unbranded gear, typically a long-sleeve, white SPF shirt unbuttoned and flapping in time with his stride. Ten years after making his first 24-hour team, he re-qualified for the opportunity to compete for the U.S. again, this time for the 2023 IAU 24-Hour World Championships in Taiwan (which international sports federating bodies officially refer to as Chinese Taipei), on December 2. 

The catch: USATF is only providing a stipend of $600 to Team USA athletes.

Oregon ultrarunner Pam Smith has competed on Team USA seven times in the 24-hour and 100K world championship events. Now, she’s serving as the Team USA manager to help steward the next generation of ultra athletes. But that passion has come at a cost. 

“I estimate I’ve spent around $10,000 in personal funds to be able to compete at the world championships and to represent the USA at these events,” says Smith, 49, who finished fourth at the 2019 IAU World Championships in France. “USATF does pay for the manager’s travel expenses, but there is no other compensation; in fact, the managers have to use their own funds to cover some fees, like membership dues and background checks.”

It might surprise fans of the sport that many of their favorite athletes are paying significant money to sport the red, white, and blue uniform—and that many can’t compete because they cannot shoulder the cost. The U.S. is known for strong 24-hour runners, and the men’s and women’s teams both won gold at the previous IAU 24-Hour World Championships in 2019 in Albi, France, with two individual podium spots. 

“The U.S. has many of the best 24-hour runners in the world,” says Smith. “It’s a shame that these athletes don’t even get their airfare covered.”

While Smith’s airfare is covered, her work and that of her colleagues is presumed to be done on a volunteer basis. (A quick online search shows a flight to Chinese Taipei from most U.S. cities costs in the $1,500-$2,400 price range.)

Trail running, particularly the elite side of the sport, is at an inflection point. While some races dole out prize money, and a select few athletes at the top of the sport command respectable salaries, most runners at the elite level rely on a scattershot combination of brand partnerships and personal funding to float their racing. While the sport’s very best athletes are well compensated professionals, most “sponsored” trail runners earn between $10,000 and $30,000 per year. Between travel, gear, nutrition, and other expenses, many runners at the elite level are fronting their own cash to compete. 

When Chad Lasater qualified for Team USA after a strong run at the Desert Solstice 24-Hour Race, he hadn’t planned on making the team. But, when he found out he’d qualified, he started looking into the logistics and was shocked to discover he’d be responsible for paying his way to Taipei. 

“The cost of airfare, lodging, food, and time away from work can be significant, especially when traveling to somewhere like Taipei,” says Lasater, 51, from Sugar Land, Texas. “I feel that everyone should have an equal opportunity to be on the U.S. team, and the cost of traveling to the world championships should not preclude anyone from accepting a spot on the team. We should really be sending our best 24-hour athletes to the world championships, not the best athletes who can afford to travel.”

Teams that rely on individual brands or athletes to foot the bill will prefer runners with sponsorships or disposable income and can afford to take time off work and pay for childcare. 

At the top of the sport, like the world championships, it’s routine to see completely unsponsored runners competing with no brand affiliation, especially in the eccentric realm of 24-hour track events. Even some sponsored runners don’t always get their travel expenses covered. 

While a world championship event is certainly a big deal, it doesn’t command the same fanfare and media attention as other marquee events, like the Western States Endurance Run or Ultra-Trail du Mont-Blanc, where many brands prefer to focus their resources. 

Jeff Colt, a 32-year-old professional ultrarunner for On who lives in Carbondale, Colorado, publicly debated the merits of returning to Western States in California this year or competing in the 2023 World Mountain and Trail Running Championships in Austria in early June. (The trail running world championships and 24-hour world championships are different events, but the Team USA athletes who compete in each one face similar challenges when it comes to funding and market value to brands.) He ultimately decided to claim his Golden Ticket and compete at States. More eyeballs on the event mean a higher return on the investment for running brands, which in turn elevates athletes’ value to their sponsors 

“My sponsor, On, was clear that they supported my decision either way, but they were more interested in me running Western States,” says Colt. “And rightfully so. There’s a lot of media attention at races like States and UTMB, which allow brands to activate and get visibility for their logo. That support feels good as an athlete, too. It’s not just better for the brand.”

Nike has an exclusive partnership with USATF; all athletes competing at any world championship event in the mountain-ultra-trail disciplines (as well as the Olympics and World Athletics Championships for track and field and the marathon) must wear Nike-issued Team USA uniforms that are provided to the athletes free of charge, with the exception of shoes. Any photos or videos of professional runners at these events are less valuable to competing running brands because their athletes will appear bedecked in another company’s logo. This disincentivizes many brands from investing in unsponsored athletes’ travel expenses and limits athletes’ ability to get financial support, most of which currently comes from shoe and apparel brands in the trail running industry. And if athletes cannot compete because of illness or injury, they must return parts of the kit. Even if they keep the kit, many sponsored runners’ contracts prohibit them from training and racing in the gear, so it gathers dust at the back of their closets. 

Arizona runner Nick Coury, preparing to compete on his third U.S. 24-hour team, says this contract limits the economic opportunities of unsponsored athletes—partially because it disallows an athlete to place another sponsor’s logo on the Nike gear. 

“This is especially upsetting to many because Nike provides large sums of money to USATF for this arrangement, yet neither passes through significant support to national teams despite USATF being a nonprofit aimed at ‘driving competitive excellence and popular engagement in our sport,’” says Coury, 35, from Scottsdale, Arizona. “USATF is taking money from Nike, restricting elite athletes to fund themselves through sponsorship, and doing little to nothing to encourage a competitive national team.”

One athlete, sharing anonymously, reported selling parts of their Nike kit to help offset travel expenses. “It’s the same kit [100-meter and 200-meter track and field superstar] Noah Lyles wears, so it’s super valuable.”

Traer thinks it’s unfair that athletes are forced to wear Nike gear and render free labor supporting a huge company, especially when the 24-hour team isn’t fully funded. Lyles, an Adidas athlete who won the 100-meter dash at this year’s World Athletics Championships in Budapest, had to wear Nike gear while warming up and racing, too. But his travel and expenses were paid in full by USATF, and his Adidas relationship benefits because track and field stars get considerably more exposure than ultrarunners. Furthermore, in track and field, the world championships serve as a prelude to the biggest running event on the calendar, the Olympics, which take place every four years and attract an expansive viewership that reaches far beyond hardcore running fans.

“It bothers me because Nike is making a huge amount of money,” Traer says. “I don’t want to hear that there isn’t enough money to support athletes because I see smaller brands in our sport that have less money doing a much better job supporting athletes.” 

Nancy Hobbs is the chairperson of the USATF Mountain and Ultra Trail Running Council, the division of USATF that oversees the U.S. 24-Hour Team. Her executive committee has been discussing more equitable distribution of funds. Initially, funding was based on the number of years the championships had been held and how many athletes were attending. 

Ultimately though, it comes down to the relatively small amount of Nike money that USATF allocates to the USATF MUT Running Council.

“With a certain amount of money in the budget, we could choose to send fewer athletes (i.e., just a scoring team with no spares in case of injury, etc.), but the council discussion has been on the importance of fielding a full team with some additional athletes for attrition and providing more athletes an opportunity to compete internationally (provided they qualify for the team based on selection criteria),” says Hobbs. 

Though the compensation for mountain-ultra-trail athletes may feel low, it is significantly higher than in the past. In 1999, a mere $250 was distributed to each MUT subcommittee, totaling $750 for all 1999 expenses. In 2013, MUT teams received $25,000 in funding for travel. This year, $83,000 was distributed across all of the teams it sends to international championships for MUT disciplines. 

“We’ve come a long way with MUT since 1998,” says Hobbs. “We have more work to do. This is a volunteer-driven group which is passionate about our sport and trying to provide athletes opportunities through championships, teams, and programs within the structure of USATF.”

Coury qualified for his third U.S. 24-hour team in 2021 and broke the American 24-hour record. He’s had to fund his travel out of pocket for all three international appearances. He says the lack of funding limits the team’s ability to compete on the world stage. 

“I’ve found it extremely challenging to train for a 24-hour event while holding a full-time job, as have others, and I know I haven’t and won’t hit my personal potential as a result,” says Coury. “We’ve seen an explosion in the competitiveness and interest in trail races, and part of that is the ability for ultrarunners to make a living as professional athletes. We see very few runners in the 24-hour space who can go professional, which reflects in our team’s competitiveness.”

While Team USA won both gold medals in 2019, international competition is escalating. Coury says opening up additional funding would help draw elites and strong amateurs alike to try their hand at the 24-hour format, which would help Team USA’s standing on the world stage. 

“Athletes like Courtney Dauwalter and Camille Herron have represented Team USA multiple times and been key to our results,” says Coury. “Yet I am certain they must weigh training, qualifying, and representing Team USA against the sponsorship opportunities in trail ultrarunning, where financial support is much greater. I imagine there would be more interest from some of our most capable athletes if we had a better financial story around the team, providing a path for it to fund an athlete’s career instead of costing out of pocket. Given the prospects of making a living at a trail race versus paying to represent Team USA, I’m positive we’re discouraging some of our best athletes from even wanting to try.”

In previous years, Team USA has resorted to raising money through bake sales and selling T-shirts to raise funds for the team’s travel expenses. Past team captain Howard Nippert made and sold ice bandanas to support the team. This year’s captain Smith is hosting fundraising dinners. Coury says that the ultrarunning community has stepped up to support the team where traditional funding has failed. 

“It reminds me in some ways of the amateur athlete situation back in the 1970s, where representing your country came at a significant financial burden and really made athletes reconsider it,” says Coury. “Why isn’t USATF making it desirable to train and compete for Team USA? Why is it seemingly doing the opposite?”

The 24-hour team is at a crossroads: either it will receive adequate funding and support to send the best team possible to the world championships, or it will maintain this status quo while Team USA falls further and further behind on the international stage. Traer has launched a petition on Change.org to draw attention to the funding issue and is determined to sound the alarm about how a lack of funding holds athletes and all of Team USA back. 

“No one should have to decide that they made Team USA but can’t afford to pay to wear their country’s flag,” says Traer. “If an athlete earns their spot on the team, they should get the support they need to compete. End of story.”

So You Missed Your Splits or Lost Your Race – Now What?

How failing in training and racing can make you a stronger runner

It’s Tuesday. No, it’s not only Tuesday. It’s critical velocity day. My coach has assigned me two warm-up miles and six 600 meters in 3:13-3:21 intervals, with a 90 second jog between each one. I head out to smash the workout. I’m confident. I’m excited. Then, I start. It’s blistering hot. Sweat is dragging all my face sunscreen down my forehead into my eyes. Water sloshes in my stomach. I’m so thirsty but I can’t drink anymore or I’ll puke. I start to slow. Miss my paces. What is happening? My head spins and I get this horrible gut-wrenching feeling as I pull through the last interval. My coach is going to be disappointed. My Strava record is going to be humiliating. Because I absolutely, undoubtedly failed this run.

Thinking of yourself or your run as a failure can be debilitating and keep you down for days. For a while, I thought I needed to stifle this feeling. But as it turns out, I should be making nice with failure rather than fighting it. 

So what exactly does it mean to fail a run? It looks different for everyone, but to many people in the running community, it means missing the splits you or your coach has set for yourself. You can fail in training and fail in a race – both are equally debilitating for a runner. However, running coach and founder of Run Your Best, Cory Smith, says this doesn’t always mean running too slow. 

“A lot of people think the faster you run, the better,” he says. “But if you’re trying to hit a certain zone or train a certain adaptation and you run too fast, then you’re training something different than your coach wanted you to train, that can be a failure, too.”

In fact, Smith doesn’t believe going slower than your faces should be defined as the typical, negative definition of failure. 

“Failure is data collection,” he says. “It’s learning information. If I fail a workout, it doesn’t make me a failure as a person or an athlete, it’s just an opportunity to look at the data and figure out how to grow from it.”

Oftentimes you’ll hear runners call it the “F word” or scold others for talking about failure, but mental endurance coach, Vanessa Foerster, wants people to use the word. She echoes the same thing as Dumbledore in Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone – “Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself.” (That’s the only Harry Potter reference, I swear.) Foerester believes shying away from the word or thought of failure gives it more power. 

“We have an opportunity, with our language, to normalize failure,” she says. “If we can redefine it, we change our relationship with it.”

What both Foerster and Smith stress the most is that one bad workout doesn’t make or break you. Smith compares it to basing your retirement fund on one day when the market went down, even though we know it goes up and down all the time. 

“The most powerful thought around failure is that one workout never makes or breaks a race or athlete,” Foerester says. “We’re in a constant state of learning, if we open ourselves up to be.”

Beating yourself up over a workout can often bleed into your next run, creating a sort of downward spiral effect. 

“It puts you into a negative mindset, and then the next workout you’re going to put more pressure on yourself to do well to convince yourself that last workout was just a fluke,” Smith says. “This leads to anxiety, which can hurt your workout performance.”

One study reports that a negative emotional state can hinder athletic performance. Speed, specifically, was proven to be affected by emotional state. This study examined the correlation between sadness and depression and reduced running speeds, head movements, and arm swinging. 

In other words, failure can be heavy, if you let it. 

Like we said, failure looks different for everyone. So far, we’ve been talking about failing during training sessions – which can be referred to as process failure. An outcome failure, however, is not meeting an end-result or goal which the training was put forth for. Like a race.

For Addie Bracy, it looks like an uncharacteristic 116th place in the 100k CC. Bracy is an elite trail runner, placing first in the 2023 Behind the Rocks Ultra Race and third in the 2023 Speedgoat 50K. She has a consistent track record across the board and even has her masters in Sport and Performance Psychology. 

“I had a pretty poor performance,” she says, reflecting. “Objectively, one of the worst I’ve ever had in trail running, and certainly not the race I trained for.” 

Bracy says she can’t pinpoint a rhyme or reason why, but that it just wasn’t clicking that day. At a certain point, she realized the race wasn’t going the way she thought and reframed her mindset. Failure, in her definition, is only when you give up – and she chose not to. 

“I think that’s the beauty of ultras – they’re so long that you’re going through the mental process then and there,” she says. “I had thoughts of stopping, but I went through the mentality of ‘That’s not what you do this,’ and gave my best effort to focus on just finishing instead of making a certain time.”

This is what Smith identifies as performance standards versus outcome goals. 

“Outcome goals are the splits you or your coach sets or the final finishing time,” he says. “The performance standards aren’t outcomes, but how much effort you put into whatever that task is.” 

Meaning, Bracy started out at UTMB with an outcome goal of a particular time, and mid-race, reframed her foals to a performance standard to do her absolute best. 

“I think when it really boiled down to it, the goal of a race was to put yourself in a challenging situation and see how you can handle it,” she says. “I was still able to do my best that day – it wasn’t what I thought it was going to be, but it was still my best.”

But she wasn’t happy with her placement in the 100k CC. 

But in early September, Bracy took on the 100k CCC and placed in what she thought was an uncharacteristic 116th with a time of 14:48:21. 

Foerster goes a step further and says that failure is not only okay, but it’s actually beneficial to experience. 

“Anytime we can meet emotional discomfort where we have to deal with heavy emotions like disappointment, we teach ourselves how to navigate that more effectively,” Foerster says. “So that when we meet another uncomfortable moment in a race, we know we can meet it and process through it.”

In a study conducted by Ayelet Fishbach, Behavioral Science professor at University of Chicago, and Kaitlin Woolley, associate professor at the SC Johnson Cornell College of Business, it was proven that discomfort could lead to personal growth. By applying cognitive reappraisal, study participants assigned a new meaning to discomfort before they experienced it so it served as motivation rather than a reason to stop their goals. And, in the case of this study, participants who were forced into discomfort while doing a task reported a greater sense of achieve

Much like running itself can be uncomfortable, forcing yourself to address the emotions that come with failure can be an unfamiliar, disagreeable experience. But doing so allows you to feel, process, and recognize that you can change your relationship with failure every time you meet it. 

“Discomfort is the currency to our dreams,” Foerster says. “If we’re willing to meet it, all our potential is on the other side.” 

So fail, and fail hard. Address the feeling head-on and don’t let it define you, but just one out of many more runs to come. 

Eat dinner like a UTMB star tonight

Australian ultrarunner Lucy Bartholomew is known for her resilient and upbeat attitude, beautiful social media posts and passion for nourishing fuel. Bartholomew ran to 10th place at this year’s UTMB (170K) race and shared her race experience online: “a lot of walking, a little jogging, constant problem solving, unconditional buffet and a brief lesson in French.”

Bartholomew has a passion for creating healthy food to fuel her body to her fast finishes. She published a downloadable cookbook, Sustain, in 2022 and often shares what food carried her through her training and racing on Instagram. These rice paper rolls are simple to put together and easily adaptable to different preferences–”super fun for everyone in the family to do together and make as they want,” says Bartholomew.

Rainbow rice paper rolls

Ingredients

Rice paper sheetsVeggies cut into strips: carrot, cucumber, roasted sweet potato, kale salad (also could use peppers, snow peas or beetroot)Protein: Bartholomew is vegan, and uses tempeh or tofu, but suggests using meat or fish if you eat itHerbs: mint, Thai basil, coriander, or anything you like

Sauce

2 Tbsp tahini 1 clove garlic, minced

1 tsp turmericBlack pepper to taste

2 tsp apple cider vinegar

1 heaping tsp red misoHot water to thin to your preferred consistency

Directions

Place the rice paper sheets one at a time in hot water for 30 seconds, lay them out, fill them up, roll them up tight and place to the side. Repeat!

Add all the sauce ingredients to a bowl, except the hot water. Add water splash by splash until the sauce is the consistency you want.

“Dip. Eat. Spread. Enjoy,” says Bartholomew.

2023 UTMB Men’s Race

After a history of struggling with UTMB, the American men showed up this year with Jim Walmsley and Zach Miller (pre-race interview) taking the top two-spots on the podium. Two vastly different racers with different approaches to the event, the two were able to push each other from start to end, with Walmsley’s ever-consistent pace finally winning out in the end with a new course-record time of 19:37:43. But with a stacked field, with nine of last year’s top 10 back for another crack at the race, and last year’s champion Kilian Jornet out with injury, it was anyone’s bet throughout most of the race of who would come out on top.

There’s never a non-chaotic start to UTMB, and this year was no different. With nerves and excitement running high, it was France’s Arthur Joyeux-Bouillon (pre-race interview) who led at Saint-Gervais, 21 kilometers in, with the entire rest of the field hot on his heels. But as darkness fell on the race and the kilometers ticked by, several distinct groups began to form. Coming into Les Contamines, 32 kilometers in, it was Zach Miller, Jim Walmsley, and the U.K.’s Tom Evans (pre-race interview) bunched up and running together. It looked like there would be the potential of a repeat of the Miller-Evans bromance from 2022, with the addition of Walmsley as a third. Frenchman Mathieu Blanchard (pre-race interview) and Petter Engdahl (pre-race interview), a Swede who lives in Norway, teamed up just a minute behind the leading trio, and the rest of the top-10 men came in within five minutes of the leaders.

By Col du Bonhomme at 44 kilometers, it was clear that Walmsley was there to put his mark on the race. Miller doggedly hung on 30 seconds back, and Evans came through another 30 seconds in arrears, looking decidedly worse than the two men in front of him. France’s Germain Grangier (pre-race interview), Blanchard, Engdahl, and Joyeux-Bouillon continued to run together just eight minutes off the lead. 

The head of the race remained amazingly consistent over the coming kilometers to Courmayeur, 81 kilometers into the race. Walmsley led Miller by a handful of minutes, Engdahl and Grangier followed, running close to each other in third and fourth, at under 20 minutes back after Evans decided to call it a day. Joyeux-Bouillon and Blanchard stayed within half an hour of the leader in fifth and sixth. 

Ever the aggressive racer, Miller made his move before Arnouvaz, 99 kilometers in. He came through the checkpoint leading a fatigued-looking Walmsley by two-and-a-half minutes. Many wondered if this was just another instance of Walmsley taking the early race out too hard and paying for it later. Grangier, Joyeux-Bouillon, and Engdahl all came through the checkpoint within 30 minutes of Miller, still well within striking distance if either of the two Americans fell back. The rest of the top-10 men also remained close, with a large group containing New Zeakland’s Scotty Hawker, France’s Thibaut Garrivier, Blanchard, Switzerland’s Jean-Philippe Tschumi, and Germany’s Hannes Namberger coming in hot and fast. 

Coming over a dark and foggy Grand Col Ferret at 103 kilometers, Miller extended his lead to nearly four minutes, but Walmsley looked determined and seemed to have found a second wind. Grangier continued to hold strong just 12 minutes behind the leader, and the chase pack of the rest of the top 10 remained relatively unchanged with several of the men teaming up to run the final kilometers to daybreak together. 

It’s always a question of when the actual racing at UTMB starts. That is, when do runners make their move and hope that it sticks? Coming into Champex-Lac at kilometer 126 on Saturday morning, it was starting to seem like perhaps Miller’s early move might be the one that worked for the American. With an 11-minute gap over Grangier and Walmsley, who were now running together, Miller looked strong and focused. But there was still a lot of racing to do, and a lot of mountains between him and the finish.

Whether Walmsley was actually in a spot of bother in the later hours of the night, or if it was all part of his strategy to hold back until daylight, everything changed when the sunlight lit up the Alps. By kilometer 139 at La Giète, he’d whittled his gap to Miller down to two minutes, and by Trient six kilometers later, he’d moved back into the lead of the race, a position he wouldn’t relinquish. Grangier continued to run in third, with fourth, fifth, and sixth place, Joyeux-Bouillon, Blanchard, and France’s Ludovic Pommeret, all moving together 44 minutes back from the battle up front. 

With the kilometers ticking by, Walmsley’s lead only continued to grow. At kilometer 154 at Vallorcine, he was more than 13 minutes ahead of a struggling Miller. Seven kilometers later at Tête de Béchar, the gap was up to 16 minutes. From here, it would be just one more climb up to La Flégère before the course tipped downward to Chamonix. Grangier maintained his third place up the final climb, with Blanchard in fourth and Pommeret in fifth, more than an hour back on the leader. Garrivier ran in sixth, while Hawker and Joyeux-Bouillon were seventh and eighth, 92 minutes back from the lead. 

Once on the final descent, there was no touching Walmsley, and one can only imagine the thoughts and emotions that must have been going through his head. After five attempts at the race, the ultimate student of the course had finally figured out how to put together the race everyone thought he was capable of. He crossed the finish line to huge cheers from the crowd with a time of 19:37:43, breaking Kilian Jornet’s course record of 19:49:30. Wiping away tears while receiving congratulations from past UTMB champion François D’Haene, it was clear how much this victory meant to him.

Fellow American Miller came across the line in second with a time of 19:58:58, looking completely spent. This was his best finish during what can only be called an extended relationship with UTMB starting in 2016. Granger completed the podium with a 20:10:52.

Blanchard, last year’s second-place UTMB finisher, ended just off the podium in fourth. Maybe one of the more impressive results of this years race was of Pommeret in fifth. The 48-year-old masters athlete, who was the 2016 UTMB champion and 2022 TDS winner, showed that age really is just a number. The other surprise in the top 10 has to be Tyler Green, the American who made a late race move to finish in seventh. He didn’t move into the top 10 until Tête de Béchar, 161 kilometers in.

Race favorite Petter Engdahl withdrew at Champex-Lac, 126 kilometers into the race.

2023 UTMB Women’s Race

Was there actually any doubt that American Courtney Dauwalter (pre-race interview) would actually win UTMB? If her performances throughout the summer were any indication, it would have been foolish to bet against her. After winning and setting course records at both Western States 100 and Hardrock 100 earlier this summer, this win might just be the cherry on the cake, or the cerise sur la gateau, as the French would have it.

The legend of the sport led from the early miles, and in typical Courtney fashion, smiled and joked her way to the win with a time of 23:29:14.While Emma Pooley, of Switzerland, led for the initial kilometers of the race, it didn’t take long for Dauwalter to move to the front. Sporting her trademark smile and happily interacting with volunteers at aid stations whenever the opportunity presented itself, Dauwalter simply makes it look good.

The top three women, Dauwalter, Pooley, and France’s Blandine L’Hirondel, came into Les Contamines, 32 kilometers into the race, within seconds of each other. It would be the last time we would see the front of the race together, as by Col du Bonhomme, 12 kilometers later, the gap between Dauwalter and second-place Manon Bohard Cailler, of France, was nearly 10 minutes. L’Hirondel and Chiina’s Fu-Zhao Xiang (pre-race interview) came through another two minutes later. Germany’s Katharina Hartmuth (pre-race interview) came over the dark col another five minutes in arrears. The situation remained essentially unchanged through Les Chapieux at 51 kilometers and Lac Combal at 69 kilometers, except the gaps were growing. 

Nearly 10 hours into the race, Dauwalter came through Courmayeur at 81 kilometers, not even bothering to stop at the aid station. Bohard continued to keep the gap manageable at 18 minutes, but it was really starting to look like another runaway victory for the American for the top step of the podium. But the race for the rest of the top spots was just starting to get interesting. L’Hirondel and Xiang remained close in third and fourth, just a few minutes back of Bohard, and Hartmuth continued to lurk another 20 minutes back. This early in the race, there were still many within striking distance. Coming through Refuge Bertone at 86 kilometers, the top five remained unchanged and Canada’s Ailsa McDonald, Poland’s Katarzyna Solińska, the U.S.’s Sabrina Stanley and Leah Yingling, and Claudia Tremps of Spain filled out the top 10. 

Somewhere before Arnouvaz at kilometer 99, Bohard took a fall that would ultimately take her out of the race. She entered the aid station walking gingerly, but was determined to keep going. This development opened up podium possibilities even further, and Xiang and L’Hirondel continued to run together at Grand Col Ferret, 50 minutes behind the ever-steady, smiling, and happy Dauwalter. Hartmuth was just 15 minutes off a podium position. 

With the arrival of Saturday morning came renewed spirits for many. Dauwalter arrived to sun at La Fouly running 26 minutes under her own course-record pace. L’Hirondel and Xiang came in just under 50 minutes back, but now there was daylight, in the form of a couple of minutes, between the women. Hartmuth remained in fourth, 65 minutes down, Solińska in sixth, Yingling in seventh, and Spain’s Maite Maiora came through in eighth looking relaxed and focused. Stanley remained in the top 10. Bohard finally succumbed to injuries from her fall and would withdraw from the race.

By La Giète, 130 kilometers in, the gap between Dauwalter and second place was over an hour, but the fight between the rest of the top five remained tight. Xiang moved into second and Hartmuth third, just minutes apart, as L’Hirondel began to feel the distance and time in her legs and dropped back. Solińska and MacDonald continued in fourth and fifth, running together almost two hours behind Dauwalter and nearly 50 minutes behind second and third places. Things remained relatively unchanged at Trient at 144 kilometers. Dauwalter looked good, Xiang was 66 minutes back, and Hartmuth was a mere minute behind her. Solińska and MacDonald followed another 50 minutes back, with Maiora trailing them by 15 minutes.

With victory seemingly all but assured for the American, the battle for the other two podium spots started to get heated on the closing climbs and kilometers. Through Vallorcine at the base of the final major series of climbs, Hartmuth moved up into second after biding her time the entire race, now seven minutes ahead of third-place Xiang and fourth-place L’Hirondel, a further nine minutes back. Maiora led Solińska in fifth and sixth just under two hours behind the leader. 

Near the top of the final climb at Tête de Béchar, 161 kilometers in, it was Hartmuth in second, 56 minutes down. L’Hirondel moved into third 15 minutes back and Xiang kept the pressure on for the final podium spot, trailing by just four minutes. The next gap to Maiora remained about 30 minutes.

Meanwhile, Dauwalter made short work of the final descent to the finish line in Chamonix, finishing in 23:29:14 and completing the ultimate trifecta of ultrarunning, winning the Western States 100, Hardrock 100, and UTMB all in one year. “Anytime you have a chance to take on a crazy challenge, I think we should,” she said afterward.The battle for the final two podium spots didn’t let up until the very end. Coming through La Floria, just four kilometers from the finish, Hartmuth led L’Hirondel by a mere nine minutes, and both women looked strong all the way to the finish. They would finish just over 40 minutes behind Dauwalter, Hartmuth in second at 24:10:52. L’Hirondel, the multi-time trail world champion, finished in third at 24:22:50 for her debut 100 miler.Xiang would fade away from podium contention in the final kilometers but held on for an incredible fourth-place finish, improving on her seventh place in 2022. But really, the excitement of her race finish was only added by receiving a marriage proposal on the finish line. Having met her now-fiancé — she said yes! — four years ago at UTMB, the proposal really was a perfect ending to her race. 

Maiora finished fifth, an impressive result after her DNF in the race in 2021. 

Jacquie Mannhard, JP Giblin take the honors at Leadville 100

Americans Jacquie Mannhard and JP Giblin took the spoils at the Leadville 100 with two exhilarating performances at the race in Colorado, USA. The pair dominated the women’s and men’s races respectively – each winning by a comfortable distance.

Mannhard completed the 100-mile out and back course in a time of 21:24:55, finishing almost two hours ahead of her nearest rival. Giblin, runner-up in 2022, crossed the line first overall in a time of 17:07:25, over 40 minutes ahead of Luke Paulson in second.

Both victors were some way off the course record times set by Matt Carpenter (2005, 15:42:59) and Ann Trason (1994, 18:06:24).

Magnificent Mannhard

The Boulder-based ultra runner, who is at home in the Colorado mountains having won the Kessel Run Ultra (60KM) in November, 2022, produced a strong performance to set a time of 21:24:55 – the slowest women’s time since 2010. Despite that fact, she was the class of the field taking the win by one hour, 51 minutes and 56 seconds.

Second over the line was fellow American Lucie Haines. Haines had enjoyed a pair of victories in Colorado Spings in May and June winning the Valkyrie Trail Race (50K) and Ring the Springs (100K). But at Leadville she was unable to keep apace with Mannhard as she finished in a time of 23:16:51.

Canada’s Madeline Wighardt denied the Americans a clean sweep on the women’s and men’s podium by finishing third in a time of 23:32:57. The 22-year-old finished second in the Quebec Mega Trail (QC) 110K race in 2022 as she starts he fledgling career.

Colleen Noonan was next over the line – another who has enjoyed 2023 success in the state. The American won the North Fork 50 Mile/50K at Buffalo Creak and Chase the Moon 12-hour Solo. Noonan had to settle for bronze at Leadville, however, as she finished over two hours behind Mannhard in a time of 23:33:57. Carrie Stafford (23:48:50) was fifth over the line just under the 24-hour mark.

Glorious Giblin

Another Colorado-native took the victory in the men’s race as Giblin topped the podium. The 29-year-old, who finished 18th at Western States in June as well as second at Bandera 100K in January, finished in a time of 17:07:25.

He was followed over the line by Luke Paulson (17:47:55). The 31-year-old, who won the Yamacraw 50K in Kentucky in May, was 40 minutes and 30 seconds off the pace.

Scott Tarer was third over the line in a time of 17:54:12, just six minutes, 17 second further back. The 42-year-old won the Crown King Scramble 50K in May and finished 15th at Western States in June. He is a previous winner of the Javelina Jundred, the Hennepin Hundred and the Vermont 100.

Great Britain’s Ry Webb finished fourth in a time of 18:38:13 – an hour and a half behind the race winner. Webb has +800 rating on the UTMB Index won the 2021 Lakes in a Day 50 miler, Patrick Cabe (19:34:54) rounded off the top five.

Kilian Jornet pulls out of UTMB with injury

While the roster of talented athletes ready to jostle for the win at the 171-km Ultra Trail du Mont Blanc (UTMB) on Sept. 1 is still ridiculously deep, one notable competitor will be absent: four-time winner and course record holder Kilian Jornet.

The athlete announced on social media Thursday that he would not be attending due to an injury that hasn’t healed. “No UTMB for me this year,” Jornet shared. “I still can’t run due to the sacrum injury so we decided it was better to prioritize a good recovery and try to do something fun when the pain disappears.”

Fans were eager for a rematch between Jornet and Canadian Mathieu Blanchard, who will be vying for his third consecutive podium finish in Chamonix. Blanchard ran last year’s race in 19 hours, 54 minutes and 50 seconds to finish a close second behind Jornet, who ran 19:49:30, setting a new course record.

Jornet battled through injury in the Eiger Ultra Trail by UTMB, vying for a UTMB Running Stone that would allow him to compete in the final UTMB event in Chamonix. While Jornet leads the UTMB Index with a 945 rating, he needed to finish the race to become a contender in the final. The athlete injured his sacrum in training two days before Eiger Ultra, but fought through to finish in 48th place in a race won by 16-year-old Swiss athlete Lorick Buclin (1:21:26).

“Some days before Eiger Ultra trail I started to feel pain in my right hip, Jornet shared on Instagram. “I thought it was a muscle problem or tendinitis that would go away with some easy days, but after a check we found out it’s a bone edema.” The multi-sport mountain athlete explained that he suspected the cause was returning to big running weeks too quickly after a Himalayan expedition that left him with broken ribs and a hip injury.”It feels it’s a bad timing to get this injury so close to the races but managing injuries and recovery is part of an athlete’s life,” he said.

While Jornet expressed hopes in late July that he would be able to line up along the likes of Americans Jim Walmsley and Courtney Dauwalter, British ultrarunner Tom Evans and Canadian Blanchard, the athlete decided against it. Fans can hope to see him crewing his wife, Swedish ultrarunner and ski mountaineer Emelie Forsberg, who will be lining up at CCC (Courmayeur–Champex–Chamonix), the 100K race at the UTMB World Series Finals.

Jornet is somewhat of a legend at UTMB, first winning the race in 2008 as a 20-year-old and returning to win 2009, 2011 and 2022. Jornet has a long list of accomplishments and holds the fastest known time speed record for the ascent and descent of major mountains, including the Matterhorn and Mont Blanc.

Martina Valmassoi ‘building up the excitement’ as she takes on 100 miles for the first time at UTMB

Martina Valmassoi will make her 100-mile debut on the biggest stage of all when she takes on the 2023 Ultra Trail du Mont Blanc (UTMB).

The Italian has enjoyed a stellar year, winning at Transvulcania La Palma Island by UTMB in May – which she credited to a change in mindset.

That triumph came a month on from victory at the Genova Trail Marathon and formed part of her recovery from a lengthy injury lay-off.

She has also since picked up fourth at the World Mountain and Trail Running Championships (WMTRC) Long Trail and third at the Marathon du Mont-Blanc.

TDS triumph

Though she has never tackled the flagship race, Valmassoi has history at the UTMB event in Chamonix, having triumphed in the TDS in 2022.

She finished in 22:42:47, over 16 minutes clear of Spaniard Claudia Tremps as she bounced back from a DNF in the 2021 race.

At 91 miles, the TDS is a strong indicator of Valmassoi’s potential over the 100-mile distance, though she will be up against a stellar field in the UTMB, in addition to the added mileage.

“Less than a month until the big dance at the UTMB, my first 100-miler,” she wrote on Instagram.

“Building up the excitement as I’m building up the fitness.

“Is never easy to know if you are training properly, enough or too much but for sure listening at the signs that the body gives you is a great start.”

500km racked up

Valmassoi says her adaptation to the longer distance is going to plan as the weeks tick down to the UTMB World Series Finals and the UTMB itself, which starts on September 1.

“Training has been going pretty good lately,” she added in a recent post.

“About 500km and 30,000 meters on foot in the past three weeks and no majors problems.

“Now is time cut the runs short and focus on picking berries more!

Montreal ultrarunner Mathieu Blanchard to join star-studded UTMB field

Montreal’s Mathieu Blanchard has confirmed he will toe the start line at Ultra Trail du Mont-Blanc in two weeks, joining an elite lineup that organizers of the 171-km race are billing the strongest elite field since the race began 20 years ago.

Blanchard will be vying for his third consecutive podium finish in Chamonix on Sept. 1. He ran last year’s race in 19 hours, 54 minutes and 50 seconds to finish a close second behind Spain’s Kilian Jornet, who ran 19:49:30 for a new course record. In 2021, Blanchard finished third behind French runners François D’haene (20:45:59) and Aurélien Dunand-Pallaz (20:58:31).

In June, Blanchard ran 15:37:02 to finish sixth in his Western States Endurance Run debut. He told Canadian Running after the race that Western States presented a uniquely difficult challenge: “I pushed through, I fought hard, my body was super painful like never before,” he said, adding he was proud to earn the “mythic buckle” awarded to Western States winners.

Among the giants of trail running Blanchard will be up against at UTMB is British runner Tom Evans, who ran the fourth-fastest time in Western States history (14:40:22) to win this year’s men’s race, and who finished behind Blanchard at last year’s UTMB to place third (20:34:35).

“I’m incredibly enthusiastic about the idea of taking part in the UTMB this year,” Evans recently told UTMB. “I’m coming into the event in a much better position than last year when I was fresh from a knee operation. The race is so full of history and for the 20th anniversary, I want to be part of the story by doing a Western States 100 Endurance Run and UTMB double. It’s a big challenge and with the strength of the peloton, it won’t be easy, but it’s a contest I’m looking forward to and believe I can achieve.”

In addition to Jornet, this year’s men’s field will see the return of American Jim Walmsley, who finished fourth in last year’s race (21:12:12) and who has held the Western States course record (14:09:28) since 2019.

Other notable entries in the men’s field include Swiss runner Jonas Russi (winner of the Lavaredo Ultra Trail by UTMB 2023), fellow Swiss runner Jean-Philippe Tschumi (who shared victory at the 100K Trail 100 Andorra by UTMB with the American Ben Dhiman) and Sweden’s Petter Engdahl.

Arguably the most compelling storyline from this year’s UTMB will be American trail running phenom Courtney Dauwalter‘s quest for the triple crown following her resounding victories at Western States (where she ran 15:29:33 to smash the 16:47:19 course record set by Canadian Ellie Greenwood in 2012) and Hardrock 100 (where she set a new course record in 26:14:08). The Golden, Colo.-based runner won UTMB in 2019 (24:34:26) and again in 2021, when she set the current women’s course record (22:30:54).

She stands to face fierce competition from an elite field that includes New Zealand’s Ruth Croft (who finished second at Western States last year), Germany’s Katharina Hartmuth (winner of this year’s Eiger Ultra Trail by UTMB), Italy’s Martina Valmassoi (winner of the 2022 TDS in Chamonix) and Hungary’s Eszter Csillag, who finished fifth at last year’s UTMB.

New to Pacing? Three Expert Running Pacers Share Their Best Practices.

acing at long distance running events is common in North America, but it can also be intimidating. Here are seven essential tips from veteran ultra athletes. Emily’s stomach had definitely gone south. She couldn’t keep anything down, vomiting every few steps. Her pacer Buzz Burrell, a fixture in the ultra scene, had encouraged various forms of nutrition and drink with a side of optimism—it’s just a rough patch, aid station’s in a half-mile, the sun will be up soon. After all, that was his job, right? To lend the moral, emotional, and logistical support Emily needed to get to the finish line.

But when the hurling continued, he got out a flashlight and inspected the latest effluent. “It was blackish red, like a stomach lining,” he noticed. “And that’s when I said to my runner: ‘You know, I don’t think we ought to do this.’”

While that scene might be uncommon, it’s an example of the dire scenarios a pacer might encounter during an ultra-distance race. A pacer may need to be prepared to play all sorts of roles in service of helping a runner achieve their goals, even if it means knowing when to call it quits. They can be cheerleaders, drill sergeants, nutritionists, aide-de-camps, trail doctors, raconteurs, and comedians. It’s an art, one that requires close communication between pacer and runner.

While pacing is uncommon in European ultras (it’s not permitted in UTMB races, for example), it is a frequent feature in the U.S. Both on the track and in marathons, pacers are in from the start and step off somewhere halfway, but those who are pacing an ultra usually pick up their runner after the halfway point and accompany them for some or all of the last part of the race.

Some purists argue that the psychological advantage of having clear-thinking, uplifting company in the later stages contravenes the spirit of the endeavor, while others find it a way for friends or family to share in what might otherwise be a time-consuming and self-centered undertaking.

The practice of pacing originated as a safety precaution—race directors didn’t want runners to get lost or collapse out on the trail alone. The 345 percent increase in participation in ultras over the last twelve years guarantees that, while some runners are very experienced, there’s also an influx of neophytes who could benefit from the company of a pacer. And yet, at the same time, there’s a contingent who have never worn a pacer bib.

For those new to pacing, or some of us who have been thrown into the fire to pace a friend without any guidance, here are seven essential insights on the art of pacing from a few of the sport’s veteran pacers. Unsurprisingly, these three pacing pros are also experienced ultrarunners. In fact, it’s been suggested that pacing is an excellent way to learn the tricks of the trade before signing up as a competitor.

After interviewing these three experts, several themes emerged on what to expect when pacing a runner, and how to prepare and execute on your responsibilities:

Buzz Burrell: “You might be trudging along while your runner is throwing up, but I put a different spin on it. As a pacer, I’ve skipped the first 50 miles of the race, which means I’m feeling good, walking into aid stations, eating sandwiches. I haven’t paid a thing for this race! As a pacer, I can enjoy the beauty of the course. This runner might be a dear friend of mine, and I want to help him, but I’m also a free food kind of guy.”

Justin Grunewald: “I think the most common reason is to help someone you care about conquer their demons, and get from point A to point Z. For me, Tyler [Green] is a friend, but he’s also hugely accomplished. I learned so much from him by pacing, I think I could take 30 to 60 minutes off my time from what I learned from pacing.”

Nicole Bitter: “To be a part of a loved one’s attempt at achieving a goal, that’s almost better than if I did it myself. Some people can’t run 100 miles or don’t want to—pacing is a way to share in the experience. A lot of people find fulfillment in pacing, maybe more so than racing.”

BB: “This is critical. It’s not just two friends saying ‘Let’s go for a run together.’ First, discuss goals. Talk about possible scenarios.”

JG: “We talked about Tyler’s objectives. He’d finished second and fourth at States in past years and was completely overlooked as a top finisher this year, so he really wanted to go for it. He had dropped his pacer before, so he wanted someone who could go 32-33 miles. We talked about his intricate cooling routine and how it was going to go at aid stations.”

NB: “It’s critical to understand your runner and what makes them tick. I love to talk when I have a pacer. I want them to tell me funny stories, what happened earlier in the day. Some people don’t want to talk; they’re just in the zone.”

BB: “Be well-fed and well-hydrated, and know when your start time will be. Never become part of the problem; don’t be a liability. Know the pacer rules, like no physical assistance. Usually “muling”—carrying your runner’s food or gear—is not allowed, though it is at Leadville, so be aware of the rules. Know the course, the aid stations, and cut-off times.”

JG: “At Western States, cooling is 15 percent of the race, so everything had to go right at aid stations. Typically, about a half-mile out from an aid station, I’d ask what he wanted to drink. I’d get Coke, ice cubes, water in one bottle, Tailwind in the other.”

NB: “Make sure you and your runner are a good fit, that you’d want to spend some time with this person. Be confident you can cover the distance you’ll be pacing easily. Take care of yourself or you won’t be equipped to pace.”

BB: “It’s unlikely your runner will be feeling great. They may be sick. They may be on a bummer. It might be hot or stormy. I tell first-timers: ‘You feel bad. So does everybody else. This is what it looks like.’”

JG: “They might be too mentally fatigued to know what they need. Tyler told me his arms were numb, which told me he needed electrolytes. Hyponatremia and dehydration are really tricky to differentiate, but, in my experience, they almost always need more electrolytes.”

NB: “Expect the unexpected. You don’t know what could happen. You might not even get the chance to pace if your runner drops out. Keep a positive outlook, and be a problem-solver.”

BB: “The first-time runner needs stability, support, and mild encouragement. Remind them to start eating and drinking 45 minutes into it. Don’t wait until your stomach starts to go. The veteran probably knows this so you can get into actual pacing, behind or in front of them, moderating the ups and downs. For someone who just wants to finish, concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other.”

JG: “Normally, Tyler takes it out slower and picks people off, but this time the theme was ‘no regrets,’ so I reminded him of his objectives, of who he is, of how proud his family will be. He ran in front of me so I wouldn’t distort his view of rocks and roots.”

NB: “It’s nuanced. My husband is competitive so I usually talk about how we need to catch that runner in front of us. The hunt mentality. Or if we need to pick it up, I joke, ‘Wow, are you keeping up with me?’ Some races, like Western States, are dialed in to the tech, and can feed the pacer info on how far ahead or behind their runner is.”

BB: “‘It’ll be fine’ is our mantra, as long as it’s just a mental or emotional low. You can always come back from that. I’ve had runners say, ‘I’m out. I can’t do this.’ I have them sit down, take some deep breaths, let their heart rate come down. Heck, you can take 30 minutes at an aid station, change your socks, and march back out.”

JG: “I told him [Tyler Green] he was looking great. He hit a rough patch, so we focused on hiking 10 steps, running 10 steps. Relentless forward progress. I’d tell him things like, ‘In 800 meters there’s a downhill.’ Late in the race, no one wants to eat, so I kept thinking of what’s going to sound good, to get in some calories.”

NB: “My husband is usually in the zone, not talking, but he enjoys when I tell him stories and point out nice views.”

BB: “Personally, I’m always going to protect my runner’s health first. Finishing is second. There are thousands of stories of people getting through awful circumstances, but I’m not going to encourage them to go on if I think it’s damaging to their health.”

NB: “In the 2016 Western States, my pacer called my day. I had hyponatremia and we didn’t feel it was safe. It’s good to have a close friend make those tough calls.”

Being a good pacer is perfect training for becoming an accomplished ultrarunner. All of our expert pacers routinely switched roles in their many years in the sport. And for those new to the sport, pacing is a great way to dip your toes before actually signing up for a long-distance race. Regardless of whether you ever intend to go the full distance or not, the many roles of the pacer make for a rich, fulfilling experience.

Courtney Dauwalter to race UTMB this year

The U.S. ultrarunning phenom, hot off her record-breaking finishes at Western States and Hardrock 100, will be looking to best her own course record in Chamonix in September.

Ultrarunning sensation Courtney Dauwalter has announced she’ll be toeing the start line at Ultra Trail du Mont-Blanc (UTMB) in Chamonix, France on Sept. 1, setting the stage for what is sure to be one of this year’s most highly anticipated ultras, following her recent record-breaking wins at the Western States 100-mile Endurance Run and the Hardrock 100.

The 38-year-old shared on social media Friday morning—with an apparent mix of excitement and trepidation—her decision to take on the famed 170-km course, which features 10,000m of vert around the base of Mont Blanc.

“We decided to do UTMB!” she wrote. “I have no idea how this will go, or what I’ll be able to squeeze out of my body & brain in one more 100 mile race this summer, but that makes it even more interesting to try! Mont Blanc, here we come! Race date: Sept 1”

The big question surrounding the September race will be whether Dauwalter, who holds the UTMB course record following her 22:30:54 finish in the race two years ago, will be able to best herself to claim the championships and course records at Western States, Hardrock and UTMB within a span of less than three months.

On June 24, Dauwalter not only demolished the Western States women’s course record that had stood for more than a decade (16:47:19 set by Canadian Ellie Greenwood in 2012), but beat most of the men, finishing in 15:29:33 and sixth overall.

Just three weeks later, she turned in another mind-blowing performance at the Hardrock 100 in Silverton, Colo., crossing the finish line in fourth place overall in 26:14:08. Dauwalter’s run was more than an hour faster than the counter-clockwise record set by Diana Finkel of South Fork, Colo., in 2009, and 30 minutes faster than Dauwalter’s own overall women’s course record set last year.

In addition to holding the course records at UTMB, Western States and Hardrock 100, Dauwalter, who is based in Golden, Colo., holds the record at Diagonale des Fous on Reunion Island.

Don’t tell me what’s impossible – Tom Evans confirms UTMB is up next

Tom Evans has announced that he will run at this year’s Ultra Trail du Mont Blanc (UTMB) after a late alteration to his 2023 plans.

The British runner claimed a “dream” victory at Western States last month to add to his “super fun” Ultra-Trail Snowdonia win in May and second place at Black Canyons 100K in February.

Evans crowned his return from knee surgery to finish third behind Kilian Jornet at last year’s UTMB, but had not scheduled in the iconic Chamonix race for 2023.

Western States recovery

His race calendar for this year, which he shared on Instagram in January, included a Fastest Known Time (FKT) attempt of the Bob Graham Round in September, but there was no mention of UTMB following Western States.

However, after his dominant win in California’s Sierra Nevada Mountains, a defiant Evans suggested that UTMB could still be on the cards.

“If I recover well from this, I’ll race UTMB this year,” Evans said at the end of adidas TERREX’s documentary on his Western States win.

“People have said it’s impossible to do. Don’t tell me what’s impossible or not.

Irresistible challenge

Over the next three weeks, Evans’ recovery clearly went to plan and yesterday he revealed that he was unable to resist the allure of UTMB, which takes place next month.

“Couldn’t resist the chance to make more memories like this,” he wrote on Instagram. “See you in Chamonix!

“Next up… UTMB.

“The Western States 100 / UTMB double is something that has always interested me. It wasn’t on my original plan but things have to change with how you’re feeling!

“And now, I can’t wait for the challenge!”

What is the UTMB? Meet trail running’s most difficult race

We answer all of your questions about this hellacious footsport event

If you’re starting to dip your toes into the crazy sport of ultrarunning, a couple of things will happen. First, you’re going to need several pairs of the best trail running shoes in rotation at any given time to put up with all those miles pounding rocky trails, and second, it won’t be long before you hear mention of the UTMB. 

In fact, I recently attended the Arc’teryx Alpine Academy in Chamonix which holds a number of trail running clinics, and over the course of four days it was rare to have a conversation where the UTMB didn’t come up. Other participants in the academy wanted to know if our mountain guides had run it, how many times and whether they liked it (they don’t, considering it a tourist event) and mountain guides were keen to complain about how busy it made their favorite running trail.

But what is the UTMB exactly? Is it the ultimate goal for all trail runners? Why is it so hard? Here, we answer all of your questions about this hellacious footsport event.

What is the UTMB race?

UTMB stands for Ultra-Trail du Mont Blanc and is considered one of the world's premier trail ultra marathons. This demanding annual event follows the route of the Tour du Mont Blanc, a classic long distance hiking trail which circles the Mont Blanc Massif over 106 miles and passes through France, Switzerland and Italy. The UTMB begins and ends in Chamonix and is regarded as one of the most difficult races in the world. 

The race takes place on the last weekend of August or first weekend of September and is today the ultimate in a series of events that take place around the world. Runners from all over the world aspire to compete in the UTMB. In the first year of the race, there were 700 participants, but these days, participation is capped at around 2,300 runners and other events have been created to allow for more participation. 

The maximum cutoff for the race is 46.5 hours. In 2022, Kilian Jornet became the first to complete the UTMB in less than 20 hours (check out his race data to find out how he managed it) but most mere mortals can expect to have to run for two days and two nights to complete the race. Better bring some running gels then! 

How does the UTMB race work?

Due to the event’s extreme popularity, you need to qualify to run the UTMB. That involves accumulating points through qualifying trail races over a two-year period. Qualifying races take place all over the world, from elsewhere in the Alps to Snowdonia, California, Mexico, Hong Kong and Australia. So if you’re serious about participating, you’ll have lots of time to train.

For each event you participate in and complete you’ll receive one running stone, which you can then enter into the lottery to be selected. You can enter the lottery at the UTMB website. 

Why is UTMB so hard?

Besides the fact that at over 100 miles, it’s very long, competitors in the UTMB are also looking at 32,940 feet of elevation gain. In comparison, over roughly the same distance you could run the Leadville 100 in Colorado and gain only 11,000 feet (though at much higher altitude) or the West Highland Way in Scotland where you’d gain 10,300 feet.

The highest point of the route is 8,743 feet, which you’ll reach twice, in both Switzerland and France. That’s not extremely high altitude and it’s unlikely you’d experience altitude sickness at that height, but you’ll definitely notice shortness of breath and more challenging conditions, especially if you’re not already used to this altitude.

What you can also expect is more extreme conditions that come with trail running in the Alps. The altitude combined with the season means that the days might be swelteringly hot, while the temperatures at night could drop down around freezing at night. 

How much does it cost to enter UTMB?

In 2023, the UTMB itself cost €335 to enter, plus administration fees. Of course, you’ll also have to pay registration fees for your qualifying events too. Your race will also include the cost of traveling to and from Chamonix, and accommodation while you’re there, but on the plus side the aid stations will be on hand to feed you during the race so you can save a little on those pricey Chamonix restaurants.

How many people have died in UTMB?

Sadly, deaths do occur in ultrarunning events and it’s perhaps more remarkable that for 17 years, no fatalities occurred during the UTMB, which not only places runners’ under extreme physical stress but entails a lot of night running. There have now been two deaths of runners in the UTMB, occurring in 2021 and 2022, both as the result of falls.

Do people sleep during UTMB?

Some runners somehow manage to do the UTMB without sleeping at all while others do sleep, but they’re not carrying a bivy sack and grabbing eight hours if that’s what you’re wondering. Sleeping during the UTMB looks like cat napping, and according to a 2015 study of 17 UTMB runners, the average time spent resting was between 12 and 17 minutes in total, and hallucinations were a common complaint, understandably.

Can you walk the UTMB?

Can you walk the UTMB? Well, yeah you could. Since the race is 106 miles and you have 46.5 hours to complete it, you technically could walk at a 2.3 mile per hour pace without any breaks and make the cutoff. Obviously though, you could just walk it at a time when the race isn't going on, save yourself €335 and enjoy far fewer people on the trail.

In all seriousness though, if you don’t already know, ultrarunning is actually hiking, and you’re not going to be running at the same pace you do on the tarmac back home. Even Jornet ran at an adjusted pace of around five miles per hour which isn’t exactly turbo speed (though it is if you maintain that for 20 hours). You’ll most likely walk the uphills and slow down or walk for rest periods, making up time on the downhills. And sorry, there aren’t many flats to speak of.

Feeling out of shape? Maybe you should run up and down a mountain three times.

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?

Kilian Jornet confirms UTMB plan with entry into Eiger Ultra Trail

Kilian Jornet has confirmed he plans to be in Chamonix at the end of August to defend his UTMB title.

And he will race at this weekend’s Eiger Ultra Trail with the aim of securing the single running stone he needs to qualify for UTMB.

Return from Himalayas

Kilian Jornet is only recently back from a trip to the Himalayas, a trip that saw him survive an avalanche that carried him for 50 metres during a solo attempt on the West Ridge of Everest, and the legendary trail runner and mountaineer has told his Instagram followers that he wanted to be sure he was fully recovered.

”I wanted to see how I was feeling, how I was in my body [after the trip to the Himalayas],” he said.

‘’I have mentioned I wanted to do some long distance at the end of the season and actually I am kind of looking like I would like to do UTMB.

‘‘But I need to classify first and I need to have some points so I will try to get them this weekend at Eiger and see if I can be at Chamonix at the end of August.’’

Eiger E16 Pleasure Trail

Jornet will be taking on the E16 Pleasure Trail race on Saturday – a 16k race that is described by the UTMB as ‘perfect for short distance specialists, and for those wishing to enjoy a shorter trail at their leisure.’

Although that race may not be the most likely to feature a runner of Jornet’s calibre, as one of the top-three UTMB finishers last year he has a priority for registration for this year’s event, but he must have at least one running stone and he has chosen Eiger to achieve it.

Last year’s UTMB saw Jornet at his very best as he took his fourth race victory, set a new course record and became the first person to cover the famous course in under 20 hours.

When Jornet announced his 2023 schedule earlier in the year, the only defined race was a return to Sierre-Zinal on August 12th – a race he’s won nine times, setting the course record of 2:25:36 in 2019.

Alongside a ‘trip to the Himalayas’ Jornet said he was considering a ‘Long-distance project/race’ later in the season. That race now looks most likely to be UTMB.

Hardrock 100 preview: will Courtney Dauwalter do it again?

The Hardrock Hundred Mile Endurance Run (HR100), known for its high altitude, deep elite field and challenging entry process, begins Friday at 8:00 a.m. E.T. This year’s event, the first ever to be live-streamed, promises to be a thriller. Runners will encounter over 10,000 metres of elevation gain while facing extreme weather conditions, navigating treacherous terrain and attempting to avoid altitude sickness.

Only 140 participants get to line up at Hardrock each year, and this year’s contenders include the remarkable Courtney Dauwalter, fresh off a jaw-dropping performance and course record at the Western States 100, and other well-known elites. The race will be live-streamed on the Run Steep Get High YouTube channel. Here’s what you need to know to follow along.

HR100 both begins and ends in Silverton, Co., and athletes are above 3,300 metres elevation for much of the race. It was founded in 1992 as a tribute to the miners who used to follow “their mules and instincts, prospecting the San Juans for gold, silver, and other metals,” the race website explains. With a finishing cutoff time of 48 hours, athletes know they are in for a long haul. The course switches directions every year, and this year runners are moving counter-clockwise around the looped course.

The women’s race

All eyes are on the phenomenal Dauwalter this year (but when are they not?) after a stunning performance three weeks ago at Western States, where she set a blistering new course record (78 minutes faster than Canadian Ellie Greenwood’s from 2012) and placed fifth overall. Canada’s Stephanie Case, who was second last year, has withdrawn from this year’s event. 60-year-old legendary ultra machine Pam Reed of Jackson Hole, Wyo., will be tackling the third part of her WSER/Badwater 135/HR100 triple this year.

Leadville, Colo.-based Dauwalter holds the course record for HR100 in the clockwise direction (26:44) from 2022; this year runners will move counter-clockwise, and that course record is 27:18 for women, set by Diana Finkel in 2009, and Dauwalter will most certainly be looking to challenge that time. Will her legs be tired? Will she win the entire thing? We can’t wait to find out.

Also from Leadville, 23-year-old trail phenom Annie Hughes won the Run Rabbit Run 100-Miler and High Lonesome 100 Mile in 2022, and the Leadville 100 Mile in 2021. She’s a high-altitude ultrarunning champ, and has also compiled some wins in really long races–she won the Cocodona 250 Mile in 2022 and Moab 240 in 2021.

If you haven’t heard of France’s Claire Bannwarth, it’s time to brush up: she was the first woman in the 432-kilometre 2022 Winter Spine Race (by more than 24 hours), and will be making her North American racing debut at HR100. Bannwarth races prolifically and runs long–she will be jumping into the Tahoe 200 Mile race a week after HR100.

Colorado’s Darcy Piceu, fresh off the waitlist, is a veteran of HR 100, with the 2023 edition being her 10th running. Piceu boasts three wins and five second-place finishes, and she was fourth in 2022.

The men’s race

With Kilian Jornet, last year’s winner (and course record holder in the clockwise direction) not returning this year, the podium seems up for grabs. None of the other top four men from 2022 will be headed to the San Juans, but a very accomplished group of athletes will be lining up and fans will be eager to see who holds up to the HR100 test.

Ohio’s Arlen Glick is a master of the 100-mile distance, running 12:57 to win the Umstead 100-miler in April and taking a speedy third at October’s Javelina 100. Like Dauwalter, Glick raced at WSER last month. He placed 14th, while he took third in 2022. Glick will be a hot contender and fascinating to watch at HR100.

California-based Dylan Bowman is a Hardrock veteran, placing second at the 2021 edition. Bowman has had a lower racing profile in the past year while working on Freetrail, a media business and trail running community. He’s been training in the San Juans pre-race and is eager to showcase his ability.

France’s Aurélien Dunand-Pallaz has over 10 years of ultrarunning success, but gained notoriety in 2021 when he took second at UTMB and won Spain’s Transgrancanaria. He missed the 2022 edition of HR100 for the birth of his child and is a favourite in his debut this year.

Oregon-based trail running legend Jeff Browning will be taking on his sixth Hardrock at age 51. Browning won in 2018, and finished fifth the past two years. In October, Browning won the Moab 240 in 57 hours, and more recently, he showcased his fitness by winning the Bighorn 100.

Five wins, a dislocated shoulder and the course record – Kilian Jornet at Hardrock 100

Kilian Jornet has dominated several races throughout his career and Hardrock 100 is one of the many where he has left a significant impression.

The Spaniard, widely regarded as mountain running’s GOAT (Greatest Of All Time), has triumphed five times at the iconic 102.5-mile race in the San Juan Mountains in Colorado, USA.

Jornet is the joint-most successful runner in Hardrock 100 history – which dates back to 1992 – alongside Karl Meltzer and Betsy Kalmeyer. He has won the race each time he has entered, with his first triumph coming in 2014.

Four-time Ultra-Trail du Mont-Blanc (UTMB) winner Jornet also holds the course record at Hardrock 100, completing the clockwise route in 21:36:24 last year.

Having been raised in the Spanish Pyrenees, Jornet has thrived at high-altitude races, and that ability has been apparent at Hardrock 100, which features a total elevation gain of 33,195ft and boasts a highest point of 4,048ft.

Instant impact

Jornet debuted at Hardrock 100 almost a decade ago, coming into the race off the back of wins at Zegama-Aizkorri and Marathon du Mont-Blanc in the two months prior.

He would lay down an instant marker as he romped to victory in a clockwise-record time of 22:41:00, finishing nearly two and a half hours clear of France’s Julien Chorier, the 2011 winner.

It was the first time a runner had managed sub-23 hours at Hardrock 100, with USA’s Kyle Skaggs having recorded the previous best of 23:23:10 in 2008.

The next year, Jornet claimed victory again – this time more than two hours ahead of USA’s Mike Foote – eclipsing the counter-clockwise course record on that occasion. He clocked 23:28:00, shaving just under an hour off Frenchman Sebastien Chaigneau’s 2013 effort.

He made it three in a row in 2016, sharing the title with Jason Schlarb after an incredible duel with the American. Having worked together and battled for hours, the pair agreed to finish together, coming home in 22:58:28.

Dislocated shoulder

2017 would bring a fourth successive Hardrock 100 victory for Jornet, but it was far from straightforward as he took a fall and suffered a dislocated shoulder around 14 miles into the race.

He powered on regardless, popping his joint back into place before medics wrapped his damaged limb in a sling later on in the day.

Incredibly, despite being forced to use a single trekking pole and facing a vicious hail storm, Jornet clinched the win again as he finished in 24:32:20, 23 minutes clear of Foote.

Record obliterated

Jornet didn’t race at Hardrock 100 for five years after his four back-to-back victories, and France’s Francois D’Haene beat both his overall and counterclockwise records when he put up a staggering 21:45:50 in 2021.

But a sensational return came last year as Jornet improved the record further, finishing in 21:36:24 and overcoming second-place D’Haene by around 15 minutes.

Weird and wonderful

Jornet has often spoken of his affection for Hardrock 100, hailing its remarkable setting and quirky traditions, a trait shared with some of the world’s craziest ultramarathons.

To complete the event, runners are required to ‘kiss the Hardrock’, a picture of a ram’s head painted on a large block of stone mining debris – a nod to the origins of the race.

“Leaving a rock with a mountain goat painted on it, to run around the San Juan mountains with a bunch of other runners, aiming to get back to that rock to give it a kiss,” Jornet wrote in an Instagram post.

“Ultra running can be as weird as beautiful and I love it!”

The Rocky Mountains provide a stunning landscape for Hardrock 100, and Jornet, who is dedicated to environmental sustainability, has spoken of his affection for the area and the people who make the race possible.

“The wilderness and landscapes of San Juan Mountains are so breathtaking,” he added in another post. “I feel so fortunate to know this part of the world.

“The race is attractive because of its beautiful landscapes and the hardness of the challenge – high elevation, several times above 4,000m, the route often on steep narrow trails.

“What makes one want to come back it’s its community. The volunteers, the crewing and pacers, the people doing trail work, and the runners celebrating together the love for trail running and this mountains.”

2023 Western States 100 Women’s Race

None of the first four women from last year’s race — Ruth Croft, Ailsa MacDonald, Marianne Hogan, Luzia Buehler — returned. That made Zimbabwe’s Emily Hawgood (pre-race interview) the highest returning finisher from 2022. Hawgood’s pretty much a race local now too, living in nearby Roseville, California. But it was 38-year-old Courtney Dauwalter (pre-race interview) that came into the race as a favorite. She won here in 2018 in 17:27 and was looking to avenge a late drop at the 2019 race.

Dauwalter was first up the Escarpment. At 2,500 feet, it’s the race’s biggest climb and it happens right away in the first three miles. But 2022 UTMB winner Katie Schide (pre-race interview) was right there too. Schide, an American who’s lived in France for the past seven years, hit the top in 46 minutes with Dauwalter and the two dropped into the Granite Chief Wilderness together. Already Dauwalter and Schide, age 31, had a three-minute lead on third-place Ida Nilsson (pre-race interview) from Sweden.

By mile 11, Lyon Ridge, Dauwalter and Schide’s lead on third-place Nilsson had ballooned to eight minutes. And then it got even bigger as the two completely broke away from everyone else. At mile 16, Red Star Ridge, no one was within 14 minutes of the front two. Nilsson, Hawgood, 2023 Black Canyon 100k winner Keely Henninger (pre-race interview), Taylor Nowlin, professional triathlete-turned-ultrarunner Heather Jackson, Canada’s Priscilla Forgie and Jenny Quilty, and 2022 sixth-place finisher Leah Yingling (pre-race interview) all ran inside the early top 10.

The Mosquito Fire limited crew access this year and everyone met their crews for the first time at mile 30, Robinson Flat. Dauwalter was in at 5:07 and out within a minute, and still on her 2019 splits. Schide took a longer break and changed shoes, exiting the aid station three minutes behind the leader. The two had completely broken open the women’s race. Nilsson, in her 100-mile debut, had been alone in third to this point, but was now joined by Henninger, Hawgood, and Nowlin.

At mile 34, Miller’s Defeat, the course record watch started. Dauwalter and Schide were under Dauwalter’s own 2019 splits and Ellie Greenwood’s 2012 course record pace. Dauwalter was five minutes up on Greenwood’s splits, and Schide was three minutes faster. Even more, the two were over 30 minutes in front of third-place Hawgood at mile 38. Dauwalter and Schide were out front for the win and the course record, and the other contenders grouped behind them.

Dauwalter was red hot up the Devil’s Thumb climb at mile 48, but Schide hadn’t given up much time. She took longer in aid and left six minutes after Dauwalter. Hawgood, Nowlin, and Henninger came in together next, now 40 minutes behind second-place Schide.

At Foresthill, Dauwalter was 25 minutes up on record pace. Schide conceded only another two minutes over the last stretch and was 11 minutes behind Dauwalter. While Dauwalter and Schide were still off the front, the race dynamic was heating up behind. The third- through eighth-place women were all in Foresthill together with only three minutes separation. Hawgood was there first among the chase group, but Hungarian living in Hong Kong Eszter Csillag quickly jumped from eighth at mile 52 to fourth at mile 62. Nilsson was fifth, and Henninger, Katie Asmuth, and Nowlin were all there too.

Dauwalter ran 2:10 from mile 62 Foresthill to mile 78 at the American River. Only the men’s winner would run a quicker split on this day, and only eight men have ever run a faster split in the race. Dauwalter was five levels better than everyone else, and she was boldly racing without a pacer too. Schide stayed comfortably in second, but fell further behind Dauwalter’s quickening pace and river conditions necessitated that everyone cross the American River in a boat this year.

From Foresthill to the river, Katie Asmuth vaulted into third, past Eszter Csillag and Ida Nilsson. Asmuth was seventh at Foresthill and picked up four spots on the downhill Cal Street stretch, outrunning common expectations in coming back from injury. All three women split faster from Foresthill to the river than Schide did and even if the front two were gone, the women in general were running really fast. There’s bound to be some bad luck in a 100 miler though, and Henninger fell just before the river and dislocated her shoulder. She would then drop from the race at mile 80, Green Gate, due to that injury.

Dauwalter’s incredible second half and incredible race brought her to the Placer High School track finish in 15:29. Dauwalter completely shattered the record books and set a new standard that is likely to last for a lifetime. Ellie Greenwood’s 16:47 course record had stood since 2012. Dauwalter will next race the high altitude 2023 Hardrock 100 in Silverton, Colorado, on July 14. Dauwalter is the Hardrock course record holder, too, but Western States plus Hardrock will certainly be a challenging double.

Schide challenged Dauwalter early, and outpaced the rest of the women’s field in doing so. Schide was in second for much of the day, ultimately finishing as runner up in 16:43. That was also under the old course record.

Csillag, who was fifth at the 2022 UTMB, had a remarkable second half to finish third in 17:09. It is the race’s fourth-fastest run ever. And she just edged out Asmuth, who moved up from last year’s ninth-place run to finish fourth in 17:21. Asmuth’s time was just inside of Ruth Croft’s winning time from last year, and is the race’s fifth-fastest ever.

Hawgood earned a second straight fifth-place finish. In 2022 she was able to finish fifth in 18:16 and in this year’s faster race Hawgood was fifth in 17:26. That time ranks eighth-best ever and is just faster than what Dauwalter ran to win in 2018.

Taylor Nowlin improved her finish place by one from prior year, but like Hawgood greatly improved her finish time. Nowlin was sixth in 17:40. One-hundred-mile debutante Ida Nilsson was seventh in 17:43, and Priscilla Forgie was just minutes back in eighth at 17:46. Leah Yingling was a repeat top-10 finisher in ninth at 17:49. For perspective, no year had seen more than three women finish under 18 hours before. But this year nine women finished under 18 hours. It is the new standard for women’s racing at Western States.

The 25-year-old Meghan Morgan took the prized 10th-place finish in 18:11, thereby guaranteeing a chance to automatically return next year.

2023 Western States 100 Men’s Race

There’s nowhere to go but up at the start of the Western States 100, and Jia-Ju Zhao from China charged the opening climb. Despite snow, Zhao hit the top in 42 minutes. Slower to the top, Frenchman Mathieu Blanchard (pre-race interview) and Brit Tom Evans (pre-race interview) turned to greet the brilliant sunrise together.

Zhao won the Ultra-Trail Mt. Fuji 100 Mile in April 2023 and is a two-time winner of the Doi Inthanon by UTMB 100 Mile in Thailand. He pushed his early lead to five minutes at Lyon Ridge, mile 11, while 2022 fourth-placer Tyler Green led the early chase group. Green had finished as high as second here before, in 2021, but was running more aggressively toward the front earlier than ever before.From mile-15 Red Star Ridge to mile-25 Duncan Canyon, the chase group started to make up time on Zhao. Tom Evans, Chinese runner Jia-Sheng Shen, and Dakota Jones (pre-race interview) were among a group that cut four minutes from Zhao’s lead over just nine miles. Evans was third here in 2019 in 14:59, and Jones had just biked 680 miles from his home in Utah to the race start.

Zhao was quickly swallowed up in the next five miles to Robinson Flat, mile 30, and soon fell out of the top 10. A lead trio of Tom Evans, Dakota Jones, and Jia-Sheng Shen came into aid at 4:45, meeting their crews for the first time. At mile 30 and with Zhao falling backward, Anthony Costales (pre-race interview) was fourth, and then he was with Tyler Green at mile 38 in fourth and fifth. The two would barely separate the rest of the race.Evans and Jones dropped Shen on the climb to Devil’s Thumb, mile 48, and the two leaders came into aid together in 7:03. Four minutes back Costales had caught Shen on the big climb, and Tyler Green, Jeff Colt, New Zealand’s Daniel Jones, Ryan Montgomery, Mathieu Blanchard, and 47-year-old Ludovic Pommeret were inside the top 10. Those six were 14 minutes apart. 2022 third- and second-place finishers Arlen Glick (pre-race interview) and Hayden Hawks (pre-race interview) were back in 11th and 16th, respectively. After earlier moving up, Hawks had just lost several places and would later drop with injury at mile 55. Other top-10 finishers from 2022 Cody Lind, Scott Traer, and Alex Nichols were all noticeably outside the top 10 too.

As the race shifted to its mile-62 Foresthill hub, Evans gained some separation on Jones and entered the aid station first, but as Evans changed shoes and socks, Jones didn’t wait and exited first. Jones was now in the lead by himself for the first time and he was overheard voicing his intention to break Evans. Some 11 minutes back of those two leaders, Green and Costales were again together and in third and fourth. Shen and Jeff Colt were just minutes back of those two, and Colt was remarkably almost an hour faster than a year ago when he finished 11th.Jones and Evans separated leaving Foresthill and anticipation ran high for their next steps. The two had been together for nearly the entirety of the race to this point. Jones wanted to make a move and Evans wanted to keep up with (the) Jones. The duel ended quickly and dramatically though. Tom Evans dropped a 5:54 downhill mile and hit Cal 2, mile 71, in 10:12. That surge pushed Jones eight minutes back at mile 71. It was just nine miles from Foresthill to that split on Cal Street, but the front two had shattered and moved in opposite directions the rest of the race.

Evans ran alone to the river crossing at mile 78, and ultimately to the finish. Tyler Green, Anthony Costales, Jeff Colt, and Jia-Sheng Shen all overtook Dakota Jones on the way to the river too. Forget about Elm Street, Jones was having a bit of a nightmare on Cal Street.

Evans, the 2022 UTMB third placer, continued to put time on the field the rest of the way. He finished in 14:40 and that’s the race’s fourth fastest finish ever. The mark trails only Jim Walmsley and Jared Hazen in 2019, and Walmsley’s 2018 mark too. Evans was a runaway winner, but the rest of the top 10 was much more closely packed.Tyler Green pushed on in second, and held off an Anthony Costales chase over the last 15 miles. Green finished in 15:04. It was his second runner-up finish and a big personal best for the course. He was able to finish with his baby boy on his shoulders. Green’s 15:04 was the race’s 11th-fastest finish ever. Costales was third in 15:09, the race’s 13th-fastest finish ever.

Jia-Sheng Shen and Daniel Jones both finished fast. Shen clocked 15:19 and Jones was fifth in 15:22. Mathieu Blanchard and Ryan Montgomery both overtook Jeff Colt late. Those three — Blanchard, Montgomery, and Colt — finished in 15:37, 15:38, and 15:42, respectively. Local runner Cole Watson bettered his 2022 14th-place finish with a ninth-place 15:54.

In 2019 the top 10 all went under 16 hours. This year’s 10th-place man Janosch Kowalcyzk from Germany just missed matching that feat. He finished in 16:09.

Seven of last year’s top 10 returned, but only Tyler Green was able to again make the top 10. The 2022 top 10 finishers Ludovic Pommeret, Arlen Glick, Scott Traer, Cody Lind, and Alex Nichols finished 12th, 13th, 15th, 16th, and 28th this year, respectively. As earlier mentioned, 2022 runner-up Hayden Hawks dropped.

After running near or in the lead through Foresthill, Dakota Jones finished 17th in 17:00.

Early leader Zhao’s high risk, high reward start ended with a drop at Michigan Bluff, mile 55.

UTMB book reveals the history of the famous event delving into controversy over prize money and the people behind the race

A new book to mark the 20-year anniversary of the Ultra Trail du Mont Blanc (UTMB) highlights the human story behind the event, contextualising controversies such as prize money.

“I don’t always agree with the founders’ decisions personally but I always found the answers very interesting and it gave me more perspective and understanding,” said Doug Mayer, 58, the book’s author.

The book – The Race that Changed Running: The Inside Story of the Ultra Trail du Mont Blanc – details the history of the UTMB with interviews with the founders Michel and Catherine Poletti.

The race is the most high-profile event in trail and ultra running. The main event is the 171km race from Chamonix, all the way around the Mont Blanc Massif, through Italy and Switzerland and back to Chamonix in France.

During the week, there are also other races: the 145km TDS, the 100km CCC and the 56km OCC.

The UTMB has often been criticised for being too commercial. They have expanded to different countries with races “by UTMB” and recently partnered with Iron Man to make a world series, through which runners can qualify for the main event in Chamonix.

The founders of the UTMB check the book for accuracy, but they were not allowed to change anything, and had no editorial control.

He did not shy from asking controversial questions. Some of his critical views of the race have been softened by the human side of the answers.

For example, the UTMB seemed to be making money, but offering little or no prize money to its runners, attracting a lot of controversy.

“It turns out that Catherine had been the treasurer of the Marathon Mount Blanc [a different race] many years ago at a time when East African runners were winning and she was writing cheques out to their managers,” Mayer said.

“She knew exactly what was going on – the money wasn’t going to the athletes, it was going to the managers. That horrified her. When she talks about that today, you can hear the indignant tone in her voice.

“That informed their thinking about prize money. For years, they saw prize money as corrupting.”

Since then, trail running has become increasingly professional. Runners and critics, including the Post, called for the UTMB to offer prize money. In 2018, they did. There were calls to give more than a token amount, to recognise that the athletes are professional runners who need to make a living.

Major publications like Outside Magazine had headlines such as “UTMB and ultrarunning’s amateurism problem”.

As of 2022, the UTMB offered US$10,400 to the winners of the UTMB, CCC and OCC, around US$5,200 for second place and US$3,125 for third. Fourth and fifth places got around US$1,500, while sixth to 10th earned US$1,000.

“I think one of their human faults is that they’re slow to change,” Mayer said, adding that he hoped people would be more forgiving of it.

One of the sources of the problems is that people have suggested the Polettis are in it for the money. In the book, the Polettis pointed out that they could have cashed out years ago. They said they wanted to pass the race on to their children.

Even the 40 per cent sold to Iron Man was not the 40 per cent they owned. It was sold to Iron Man by Group Telegram, although Iron Man did buy 5 per cent from the Polettis.

Mayer is American, but lives in Chamonix and speaks French. He has interviewed the Polettis many times but even he was taken on a journey.

“I learned a lot about them and that made them more human,” he said. “They’ve had their struggles, like all of us.”

Michel grew up in Chamonix. After university, he went to Paris to become a computer programmer.

“And he was miserable about it,” Mayer said. “A friend of Catherine said, ‘Well, you guys have a choice. It’s Paris and antidepressants, or it’s back to Chamonix.’ And they went back to Chamonix and moved into the garage of his father.”

They renovated the chalet, and it’s where they still live.

“They’re not the people that a lot of people think they are,” Mayer said. “The race is not entirely the race we think it is.”

2023 Western States 100 Women’s Preview

The 2023 Western States 100 is just around the corner and we’re here to take a look at the pointy end of this year’s women’s field. Before we get started, in case anyone needs a reminder of this unique, point-to-point, net downhill course, here are the stats for the standard course: 100.2 miles, 18,000 feet of climbing, and 22,000 feet of descending.

At the time of writing this, we don’t know if the huge snows of this winter or last year’s wildfire on the course will necessitate any significant course modifications for this year’s running. However, we know the race organization is doing everything they can to host the race on the normal course. We also know that those conditions will likely play into the competition, with snow present on the first 25 miles of the course for a spicy warm-up, as well as miles of wildfire-exposed course that’s likely to make the middle miles feel more severe than normal. And, also, we are expecting the normal race-day heat.

Last year’s race further showed how much faster the Western States women’s field has gotten in recent years. While Ellie Greenwood’s 2012 course record of 16:47 has remained untouched, 15 of the 24 fastest women’s times at the race have been logged in just its three recent races — 2019, 2021, and 2022 — with those 15 times logged by 13 different women. Ruth Croft’s 2022 winning time of 17:21 was the third-fastest women’s time ever while fifth-place Emily Hawgood’s 18:16 would have won the women’s race in all but 10 other years.

We’re in for one heck of an exciting women’s race at this year’s Western States 100. None of last year’s top-four women are returning while everyone who finished between fifth and ninth will be returning. Lining up aside those five will be another half dozen women, each of whom could make a push for the podium, including a couple of the world’s best 100-mile racers at the moment. Another dozen strong women will add to the excitement in running for the top 10.

As you’d guess, iRunFar will be there to report firsthand on all the action as it unfolds starting at 5 a.m. U.S. PDT on Saturday, June 24. Stay tuned!

A special thanks to HOKA for making our coverage of the Western States 100 possible!

Emily Hawgood – 5th, 18:16:02

Well, look at that, Zimbabwe’s Emily Hawgood comes into the 2023 Western States 100 as the top returning women’s runner after her fifth-place finish last year. That fifth place is no fluke as over the past two years, Hawgood has been seventh at the 2021 Western States 100 as well as taking 10th and sixth at the past two UTMBs. Living over here in the U.S., she ran and won the same local 50k both last year and this February.

Leah Yingling – 6th, 18:32:31

After many years of quieter success, Leah Yingling made herself known with a great 2022 season. In addition to taking sixth at Western States in 2022, she was third at the Bandera 100k, third at the Transgrancanaria Advanced 60k, second at the Canyons 100k, and 19th at the Trail World Championships 80k. She’s started her 2023 just as strong with a second place at the Way Too Cool 50k in March and a win at the Bull Run Run 50 Mile in April.

Taylor Nowlin – 7th, 18:46:42

Although she’s run ultras since at least 2016, I’d have to say that 2022 was Taylor Nowlin’s best season to date. Not only did she take seventh in her 100-mile debut at Western States, she also took fourth at the Black Canyon 100k and ninth at CCC. We can’t find any race results for Taylor so far this year, so we’ll have to wait until race day to find out what kind shape she’s in.

Camille Herron – 8th, 18:51:54 (2022 post-race interview)

What a journey it’s been for Camille Herron at Western States! She DNFed in both 2017 and 2019 before finishing in 27:28 in 2021. She kept at it last year, finishing eighth in 18:51. I’d hypothesize that what’s sure to be a snowy course in 2023 could challenge that inspiring progression, but she’ll surely come into the race fit if her recent racing is any indication. In December she clocked 13:02 for 100 miles at the Desert Solstice races before setting the 48-hour world record of 270.5 miles this March.

2023 Western States 100 Men’s Preview

The Western States 100 is set for 2023. The iconic point-to-point, net-downhill course takes in 100.2 miles, 18,000 feet of climbing, and 22,000 feet of descending, as it starts at the Palisades Tahoe ski resort in Olympic Valley, California, and finishes at Placer High School in Auburn.

Environmental conditions will play into the race’s competitive story this year. With record snowfall throughout the upper elevations of the Sierra Nevada, the mountain range through which the race travels, runners will encounter plenty of snow over the course’s first quarter, along with numerous high water crossings lower down as all that snow melts.

Some 16 miles of the course were burned over by last fall’s Mosquito Fire, leaving miles of shade-less terrain. And of course, there will probably be weather at play, with the event’s notorious heat likely to encompass the middle and lower elevations of the course.

The men’s race at last year’s Western States 100 was sharp, with just 50 minutes separating the first and 10th finishers. Seven of that stellar line-up are back this year, as well as some serious additions like the U.K.’s Tom Evans, French-Canadian Mathieu Blanchard, and Dakota Jones.

Although there are notable absentees including reigning champion Adam Peterman and course-record holder Jim Walmsley, the depth of this men’s field suggests it could be an even tighter race this year.

As you’d guess, iRunFar will be there to report firsthand on all the action as it unfolds starting at 5 a.m. U.S. PDT on Saturday, June 24. Stay tuned!

A special thanks to HOKA for making our coverage of the Western States 100 possible!

Be sure to check out our in-depth women’s preview to learn about the women’s race and, then, follow our live coverage on race day!

The top 10 runners in the 2022 race were invited to return for 2023. Unfortunately, reigning champion Adam Peterman is out with injury, and seventh-place Vincent Viet of France has opted not to return. It also looks like fifth-place Drew Holmen has withdrawn, as he just finished fifth at the Trail World Championships 80k, held in Austria 15 days before Western States.

Hayden Hawks – 2nd, 15:47:27

Last year’s second-place man, Hayden Hawks, was pretty jovial in his post-race interview about not being able to best race winner Adam Peterman. But without the reigning champion present on the start line, this could be Hawks’s year. Despite struggling with the heat last year, his finish time knocked two hours off his eighth-place finish from 2021, and there are lots of indicators that he could have more to offer on this course.

Some of his previous top performances include a 5:18 win at the 2020 JFK 50 Mile and a win at the 2018 Lavaredo Ultra Trail. So far this year, he’s warmed up by winning the Canyons 50k and taking second at the Tarawera Ultramarathon 100k.

Arlen Glick – 3rd, 15:56:17

Arlen Glick surpassed a lot of people’s expectations when he took third at Western States last year. Although he went into the race with bag of form in the 100-mile distance — having won the Javelina 100 Mile, the Mohican 100 Mile and the Burning River 100 Mile all in 2021 — this was his initiation into mountainous ultrarunning. He took to it very well, running a stormer to place third, and has since logged more mountain miles, taking second in the Run Rabbit Run 100 Mile later in 2022, before returning to the 2022 Javelina 100 Mile to place third.

Tyler Green – 4th, 15:57:10

Tyler Green took fourth at Western States last year, and forced third-place Arlen Glick into an uncomfortable sprint finish as he closed on him in the race’s final moments. In terms of placing, he was back from his second-place finish in 2021, but improved his finish time by about 14 minutes in his third go at the race. In 2019, he placed 14th in a time of 16:51, in what was a very fast year.

Following on from Western States last summer, he had a below par run at the 2022 UTMB, making it just inside the top 50, but showed he is back on form with a third-place finish at the 2023 Transgrancanaria. Last year in his pre-race interview he spoke about stepping back from his day job of teaching to focus more on track coaching and his own running, so that may have allowed him to come into this year’s race with better preparation than previous years.

Ludovic Pommeret (France) 

Ludovic Pommeret, sixth at last year’s Western States, went on to inspire veteran racers everywhere with a commanding win at the 2022 TDS at age 47 — almost an hour clear of second place on the demanding route. Some of his other top performances include a win at the 2016 UTMB, where he also took fourth in 2021, and a win at the 2021 Diagonale des Fous.

He’s probably at the other end of the spectrum of Arlen Glick, in that his best performances have been on courses more mountainous than this one, but he’s still not to be underestimated.

Not many ultra-trail runners have made Kilian Jornet sweat to the degree that French-Canadian Mathieu Blanchard did at last year’s UTMB. The two battled it out all day for a close finish, in which Blanchard took second place — under the existing course record — thus earning his Golden Ticket into Western States. He’s been mixing it up a lot this year, taking second in the 146-mile Coastal Challenge Expedition Run stage race in Costa Rica, third in the Marathon des Sables, and running 2:22 in what looked like a fairly casual effort at the Paris Marathon.

UTMB World Series introduces new pregnancy policy

Organizers of the UTMB World Series—billed as the world’s ultimate trail-running circuit—say they have committed to supporting mothers and their partners by introducing a new pregnancy policy that will apply to UTMB World Series events in the 2023 season.

The policy (which includes deferral and priority entry guidelines for athletes who are pregnant, athletes with a partner who is pregnant and athletes who are adopting or birthing via surrogacy) encourages runners to return to the trails in a safe way and within a timeframe that is considerate of individual circumstances following birth.

For events with an entry lottery, including UTMB Mont-Blanc, Lavaredo Ultra Trail by UTMB and Eiger Ultra Trail by UTMB, the policy states women will be given a full refund and priority entry to be used within five years for races in the 50K, 100K and 100M categories, and within two years for 20K races.For all other events, the policy allows for women who become pregnant after registration to defer their entry for up to two years for the same race, or receive a full refund.

Partners of pregnant women as well as parents who are adopting or birthing via surrogacy will have the option to defer their entry for up to two years or receive a full refund.

Organizers say the policy was created following a lengthy consultation process, which included gathering expertise from sports and medical professionals, the Pro Trail Runners Association, and athletes such as Sophie Power, who made headlines in 2018 when a photo of her breastfeeding midway through UTMB went viral.

“I’m delighted that UTMB World Series is launching a world-leading pregnancy deferral policy that supports all women to return to racing when they are ready,” said Power, founder of SheRACES. “At SheRACES we look forward to continuing to work with UTMB World Series going forward, sharing our insights to ensure more women from all backgrounds participate in these iconic events.”

UTMB World Series organizers say the new policy comes as part of an effort to encourage more women into the sport and to build on UTMB Group’s commitment to equal opportunities. In line with the actions put in place in previous years, in 2023, male and female elite athletes will be equally represented on the start line of all three UTMB World Series Finals races at the sports pinnacle event UTMB Mont-Blanc, thanks to the new sports system, which sees elite athletes qualify through a series of events throughout the year.

UTMB World Series adds it also remains committed to equal media coverage and representation on communication platforms including UTMB Live, as well as equal prize money for male and female athletes.

UTMB is one of several prominent races—including Western States, the London Marathon and the Calgary Marathon—to have recently introduced policies aimed at supporting mothers and pregnant athletes.

After Mosquito Fire and Heavy Rains, Western States Trail Requires Serious Work

California's largest fire of 2022 never quite grew to a tenth of the size of 2021's nearby Dixie fire, but that isn't to say it did not have an oversized impact. 

Over 46 days spanning a portion of September and October, the Mosquito Fire burned more than 76,000 acres of forest from the town of Foresthill up to the edge of the Sierra Crest near Olympic Valley, costing state and federal fire agencies $181 million in firefighting salaries and resources. Beyond the monetary cost of the fire, far greater impacts were felt in the surrounding communities, including the loss of 78 structures and residual effects to livelihoods. The U.S. Forest Service (USFS) has focused a lot of its efforts on recreational infrastructure because of its economic importance in the area. The USFS has since performed an internal study to quantify the impacts of the wildfire, and related these findings to local stakeholders including residents and businesses. 

Existing within the boundaries of the Mosquito Fire is the Western States Trail, specifically, the 12.4 miles between Last Chance and Michigan Bluff, often known as the "canyons" of the Western States 100 course-one of the most well-known sections of the course. This relatively short section of trail ascends 5,226 feet and descends 6,406 feet, cresting at Devil's Thumb, traversing over 36 switchbacks, and passing Deadwood Cemetery that hosts the remains of the miners and Chinese laborers who built this trail, once among a litany of trails developed by the Washoe people that lived on this land, in the late 1850s. 

Thankfully, for those chasing a golden ticket entry or already accepted into this year's race, the staff at Western States has been communicating with the USFS since the beginning of the blaze and have been "working full-time on getting the trail open ever since," said Craig Thornley, Western States race director. Thornley says an agreement has been reached between the race and the USFS, to leverage private funds in order to repair the trail and open in time for the late June race. This is anything but the normal or anticipated result, Thornley said. 

"Both races I direct, the Waldo 100K and Western States, were impacted by wildfire in 2022, and that was in a relatively light fire year," he says. "What most race directors appear to do is take the approach of waiting for land managers to tell them when the trail can be used again. In this case we were front and center, asking: 'what do we need to do to get this open?' If we hadn't, it could be several years until the race would be feasible."

This work had, up until the December holiday break, included a number of volunteer days aimed at adding water bars and other trail fortifications to reduce erosion impacts from typical winter rains. These volunteer days were made feasible, in large part, thanks to the quick action of the USFS Burned Area Emergency Response (BAER) teams, which typically address wildfire areas to fell hazard trees and create plans for restoration work. 

Wildfire had impacted this trail in the past, most notably during the American Fire of 2013, lending the Western States team experience as to how to ensure the event would go forward. Also, the 2008 Western States 100 was canceled because of poor air quality, due to numerous wildfires in the area. 

Based on the efforts made last fall, Thornley believed the trail would re-open in plenty of time for the race this June. But that confidence was shaken at the end of December, when a number of atmospheric rivers crossed the Pacific Ocean and dumped heavy precipitation in California. 

On the evening of January 5, 2023, a forest order was issued by the Tahoe National Forest, noting extreme damage to the burned sections of both Western States Trail and Mosquito Ridge Road, a key artery to access aid stations in this stretch. Due to the damage, the USFS issued an access closure until December 31, 2023, which would threaten the possibility of this year's race happening. In most cases, this closure would last until the USFS accrued funding and fully repaired the trail and road, which typically takes two to four years, with orders being renewed each calendar year, depending on the forest region budget. 

A New Approach 

The Western States team is confident that the order will be reversed once trail maintenance is completed. However, due to USFS budgetary constraints, this trail maintenance will be funded by private donors through the Western States nonprofit structure, on the behalf of the government, a strong partnership and plan between event promoters and land managers. 

While it is impressive that the Western States staff has been able to, in all likelihood, stave off race cancellation or delay, there is a larger question to ask: what do individuals, race promoters, and sponsoring brands do under the face of rising hazards in the present and future? 

In California, the Santa Ana winds have driven wildfires followed by rain events for centuries, but climate modelers warn that the number and severity of wildfires of the past several years, as well as the frequency of high-severity extreme precipitation events, highlight a worsening climate trend.

No longer is climate change and public land management solely impacting individual communities for discrete periods of time. It is also placing a serious threat to the start line of arguably the most lauded trail running event in North America. The burning of one trail, which will likely require hundreds of thousands of dollars to restore and treat for public safety, is forcing the hand of major race promoters, and the entire outdoor industry, to consider where climate change fits in their yearly budgets. 

While the question as to what Western States runners should expect this year is clearly front and center, most see the writing on the wall-the industry must adapt to and address climate change. Fortunately, Western States will almost assuredly happen this year, but only because of the immense work ethic, generous donor giving, and long-term community building of the event staff. 

While Western States has the funding to avert disaster this year, both Canyons Endurance Runs by UTMB and the Tevis Cup equestrian event are held in April and July, respectively, on the same trails. There is no guarantee the trail will be open and usable as early as April, or in good condition for horses by July. At the time of publication, UTMB staff were in communication with Western States and land managers to find solutions for Canyons in 2023. However, no official statement has been issued at this time. 

Of course, these three races alone are not the first to be impacted by both natural disasters and a limited federal budget for trail restoration. For example, in the last decade, Santa Barbara's Nine Trails has seen the same cascading disaster chain. Such complications have also been experienced along trail systems in Flagstaff, Arizona, Glenwood Springs, Colorado, and across the Pacific Northwest. 

Thornley credits the decade-long relationship building with the USFS, California State Parks, and private landowners for their ability to quickly avert closure, noting the volunteer trail work days and private fundraising the event has done in collaboration with these land managers over the years. Western States has acted as an exemplar for other events to emulate in the coming decades, under a shifting climate system. However, one must ask whether other trail running event organizers have considered the time necessary to build these relationships with land managers, and to make plans accordingly before the next natural disaster strikes. The future of the sport depends on the urgent planning and trust-building of these various stakeholders.

Here's Why It Feels Like Every Elite Runner Is Changing Sponsors Right Now

Tim Tollefson celebrated the new year shoveling a lot of snow, dreaming about a summer of possibility, and changing his shoes.

After six years with Hoka, Tollefson, 37, the well-known elite American ultrarunner from Mammoth Lakes, California, signed a new multi-year sponsorship deal with Craft. It might seem like a curious move this time of the year, but, in reality, most athlete sponsorship contracts in running are one-year partnerships that end on December 31. That typically gives brands the upper hand in these situations because they can have an easy out whenever an athlete doesn't have a great year of results, or they no longer fit with their marketing goals. It always comes down to the money, though sometimes it's in the athlete's best interests to start fresh, to leverage their recent results and social media platform to find a better deal with a brand that better fits their racing goals.

Because there are more brands partnering runners than ever before, and presumably more sponsorship money available, top-tier distance runners who are still at the top of their game-like Tim Tollefson, Allie McLaughlin, Josette Norris, Paige Stoner, David Ribich, Dani Moreno, Erin Clark, Natosha Rogers, Colin Bennie, Dillon Maggard, Camille Herron, and others-have been able to seek out new opportunities to continue their careers with the necessary support.

The terms of the newly signed deals haven't been disclosed, but there is a huge range in pay for professional distance runners-roughly $15,000 on the low end for a partially sponsored trail runner without significant international results, to $300,000 at the high end for a top-tier marathoner with Marathon Majors podium results. Certainly that means some live a life of luxury, while others are forced to work part-time jobs and pinch pennies to get by.

But there are also often signing bonuses, as well as premiums paid for earning appearance fees, major victories, global medals, podium finishes, breaking records, and other incentives, so running faster can be a fast track to a boost in income. However, most athletes are considered independent contractors, and many have to pay for their own healthcare, body work, and travel, depending on the details of their brand partnership.

"You start getting an idea of who's going to be available, for one reason or other, in the last few months of the year, and that's when brands and athletes start talking," said Mike McManus, Hoka's global sports marketing director. "As an athlete, you're as valuable as whatever money anyone wants to give you, but it's a process and all about negotiating. Sometimes you can match the money being offered; sometimes it just doesn't make sense for the partnership."

What Tollefson liked about Craft was similar to what he liked about Hoka six years ago-an upstart brand ready to make an impact in trail racing, its new line of trail shoes, and the trail community overall. Craft sees Tollefson as a runner with name recognition and several significant race wins in the past three years, not to mention a leader in the sport who started the Mammoth Trail Fest last year.

"This [new partnership with Craft] has reignited my deep passion for the sport and has reminded me of the things I want to accomplish," he said. "It's almost like a start-up situation led by passionate people who are excited to make an impact and want to support the people who are along for the journey. Curiosity drives me and I like a challenge. I know I am going to have some lifetime achievements ahead."

More Big Moves in Trail and Ultra

After an extraordinary year of racing on the trails, Allie McLaughlin changed from On to Hoka as her primary sponsor. The charismatic 32-year-old from Colorado Springs won the daunting Mount Marathon race in Alaska, placed among the top five in several Golden Trail Series races, and won both gold and bronze medals in the inaugural World Mountain and Trail Running World Championships in Thailand. She'll be representing the U.S. in this year's World Championships in Austria, in June, while also returning to the OCC 54K race, as part of the Ultra-Trail du Mont-Blanc (UTMB) festival in Chamonix, in August.

"It was really interesting to see how much trail means to them [Hoka], not only with their sponsorship of UTMB, but in general how they're helping push the sport forward," said McLaughlin, who had been with On since 2021. "There are a lot of reasons I like what Hoka is doing, but ultimately, the emphasis they're putting on the team and their athletes is really exciting."

Other trail and ultrarunners who have switched brands include Erin Clark,  who finished 7th at last year's CCC, who left Hoka to sign with Nike, even though her partner, Adam Peterman, the 2022 Western States 100 champion and ultrarunning world champion, re-signed with Hoka. 

Spanish trail runner Sara Alonso has changed from Salomon to ASICS, while Craft also signed Arlen Glick, a prolific 100-mile specialist from Ohio, and Mimmi Kotka, a Swedish runner with numerous podium finishes in Europe, to its team. Meanwhile, previously unsponsored American trail runners Tabor Hemming (Salomon) and Dan Curts (Brooks) are among those who have signed new deals.

Meanwhile, Dani Moreno, a world-class mountain runner from Mammoth Lakes, California, and Camille Herron, a record-setting ultrarunner from Warr Acres, Oklahoma, are both also leaving Hoka for yet-to-be-announced brands that offered better deals.

Bigger Transitions for Road and Track Runners

For track athletes and marathon runners, a change of shoe brands is often a more involved change, mostly because it often means changing training groups and coaches, too.

For example, Josette Norris, the fifth-place finisher in the 1,500m at the 2022 World Athletics Indoor Championships, not only switched from Reebok to On, but she left Reebok's Virginia-based Boston Track Club, and coach Chris Fox, and moved west to Boulder, Colorado, to join the On Athletics Club under Dathan Ritzenhein.

Similarly, David Ribich, one of the best American mile runners on the track last year, switched from the Seattle-based Brooks Beasts track club to the Nike-backed Union Athletics Club under Pete Julian.

Colin Bennie, the top American finisher in the Boston Marathon in 2021-previously with Reebok but unsponsored last year-signed with the Brooks Beasts but will be training on his own in San Francisco. Dillon Maggard, who was second at the U.S. cross country championships and ninth in 3,000m at the indoor world championships in 2022, is returning to Seattle to train with the Brooks Beasts, after being unsponsored last year. Natosha Rogers, who was a finalist in the 10,000m at last summer's World Athletics Championships in Eugene, Oregon, has changed from Brooks to Puma, but will continue to train on her own in Colorado. Middle-distance runner Cruz Culpepper, after short stints at the University of Washington and the University of Mississippi, gave up his remaining college eligibility to sign with Hoka and its NAZ Elite (NAZ) team.

Last summer, Paige Stoner left the Virginia-based Reebok group and Fox, her longtime coach, to train in Flagstaff, Arizona, partially because she didn't have other marathoners to train with on a regular basis in Charlottesville. She increased her volume last fall training with Sarah Pagano and Emily Durgin and won the U.S. championship at the California International Marathon in December with a course record of 2:26:02, her debut at the distance.

In January, Stoner parlayed that into a new deal with Hoka, as she also joined the Flagstaff-based Northern Arizona Elite and will be training with a group of strong marathoners-including Aliphine Tuliamuk, Alice Wright, Kellyn Taylor, and the recently unretired Stephanie Bruce-under the guidance of coaches Alan Culpepper, Ben Rosario, and Jenna Wreiden.

"I was especially drawn to NAZ because they have proven to be a powerhouse in the marathon, which will likely be my primary focus in the years to come," Stoner said. "I believe the team has all of the tools it takes to compete at the highest level in the sport, and I am eager to begin this new chapter."

Learning the Ropes

For track and road running, the path to success for elite-level, post-collegiate athletes typically includes earning a sponsorship right after the track season in June and joining a sponsored training group and coach. From there, it's all about improving times and placing high in U.S. championship races, with hopes of becoming fast enough to earn a spot in elite track meets in Europe or one of the World Marathon Majors.

But most road and track runners have agents to help smooth out those transitions, whereas most trail runners do not. Plus, trail running is considerably more unstructured, with a greater range of race distances and a lot more unknown variables. That means the challenge of figuring out what opportunities exist on the trails-what races to run, how to train on trails, what gear is needed, how to race considerably longer distances, and how to attract sponsors-often requires them to learn on the fly.

Those are all reasons professional trail runner Andy Wacker recently formed The Trail Team, a non-profit organization that will help guide young runners along the path becoming successful, potentially sponsored trail runners, while also playing a role in boosting the level of competitive trail running in the U.S.

The Trail Team put out a call for candidates to become one of six inaugural team members in 2023. Once selected this spring, those athletes will go through a training camp, receive a stipend, get continued mentorship from Wacker, McLaughlin, Adam Peterman, and Grayson Murphy, and prepare for a variety of U.S. races.

"I've reached out to a lot of young athletes and the main thing I found is they need a mentor," said Wacker, a Salomon-sponsored athlete. "They don't necessarily need a coach-a lot of them have a college coach that they might continue working with-but they need someone who is going to help them with all of their questions and translate everything to trail running.

"It's still really hard to be an individually sponsored athlete, and I think it's hard for a young athlete to get recognition and build their brand, so we're hoping to help with that," he added. "There are more participants and more excitement than ever in trail running, but there are also growing pains. So there are a lot of ways we think we can help so they don't have to figure it out on their own."

Like Wacker, Tollefson is one of those athletes who did have to figure it out on his own. He was a good runner in high school and college, but he never qualified for the state meet and never earned All-American honors. But, with a relentless work ethic, he's become one of the most successful American trail runners of the past decade, having placed second at the CCC 100K in Chamonix, in 2015, and twice placed third in the Ultra-Trail du Mont-Blanc 171K in 2016 and 2017.

Although his personal race plans aren't finalized yet, those deals are allowing him to step away from his career as a physical therapist and become fully immersed in running for the first time in his career.

"All of us athletes are multidimensional; we're more than just a pretty face rocking a bib," Tollefson said. "Everyone has a unique story. I think there are more brands interested in telling those stories, and Craft is definitely one of them. Some people have written me off, but I'm confident my best races are ahead of me. Craft believes in me, and I feel like I need that belief to get the best out of myself."

More Prize Money Is Flowing Into Trail Running. What Does That Mean for the Sport?

Annie Hughes, one of the top trail runners in the U.S. for the past two years, had another amazing season running ultra-distance races in 2022. On September 17, the 24-year-old Hoka-sponsored runner and part-time college student won the Run Rabbit Run 100 in Steamboat Springs, Colorado, her fourth win of 100 miles or longer since April. Earlier this year, she won the Coldwater Rumble 100 in January, Cocodona 250 in April and the High Lonesome 100 in July. 

Those were all exceptional efforts in really challenging races, but the big difference she experienced after crossing the Run Rabbit Run finish line, 21 hours and 26 minutes later, was that she won $17,500. (And yes, she was handed one of those cartoonish, oversized checks at the awards ceremony.)

Run Rabbit Run is one of the rare American trail races that offers a relatively large prize purse, and for a decade, it's been the largest in the sport. Hughes earned $15,000 for winning the women's race and split another $5,000 with Arizona trail runner Peter Mortimer (who placed 12th overall) as part of the event's new team competition.

"That wasn't the reason I was drawn to the race, but it was definitely pretty cool to win that much money," Hughes said. "I'm glad I did it, because it wound up being a really great race with an amazing course on a beautiful day."

The origins of trail running were always more about the joy and freedom of ambling through the natural world, and less about the specific time and pace of any run or race, which is why winning big cash prizes is mostly uncommon in the sport, even for top-tier runners like Hughes. Over the past two years, Hughes has won 10 races of 50 miles or longer, yet her Run Rabbit Run victory was the first time she's ever earned money for her efforts. 

More sponsorship money and bigger cash prizes are flowing into the sport, helping the top athletes earn a full-time living in the sport and become global stars. But that evolution has also created a desperate need for a unified governing body and more consistent drug-testing as doping becomes a more acute concern.

A Windfall of Prize Money

Historically, America's biggest and most notable trail running races haven't offered any prize money at all-Western States 100, Hardrock 100, Dipsea Trail Race, Leadville 100, Mount Marathon Race, Seven Sisters, Black Mountain Marathon/Mount Mitchell Challenge-partially because races simply couldn't afford to pay it, and also because, at the soul of the sport, that's not what the races were historically about or why most top runners were competing. 

But with the continued growth of the sport-trail running has grown by 231 percent over the past 10 years, according to one report-and the dawn of a new level of professionalization over the past decade, there is a lot more money being injected into the sport. That includes more high-profile events and race series, more brands investing in the sport, more sponsored runners and trail running teams, as well as a growing expectation that prize money should be part of the equation as it is in road running, triathlon, and even obstacle course racing.

For many years, The North Face 50 near San Francisco was one of the only ultra trail races in the world to offer a significant prize purse. From its inception in 2006, until it disappeared after 2019, that race famously awarded $30,000 in prize money, which included $10,000 to the top finishers in the men's and women's races, plus $4,000 for second and $1,000 for third. It was a race to look forward to at the end of the calendar year, both for the cash awards and the prize-induced competition that drew top runners from around the world.

During that span, Run Rabbit Run, though a lower-profile race, quietly began dishing out some of the biggest payouts in the sport, in part because race organizers Fred Abramowitz and Paul Sachs believe in rewarding its top athletes for their efforts (as well as giving back to the community via even bigger charitable contributions). The race winnings come primarily from entry fees of the 600-runner event and sponsors, if and when the race has them. That wasn't possible back in the early days of the sport, when entry fees were minuscule and cash sponsors were mostly non-existent, but things have started to change.

Abramowitz and Sachs, who both earn their living as attorneys, are unique in that they want to give back to the elite athletes and the Steamboat Springs community, but they also want to help grow the sport. Abramowitz outlined what he calls "A Blueprint for Sponsors of Ultra Running," a three-page document that explains how and why trail ultrarunning-both as a sport and as individual races-can connect to more casual runners, sports fans, and the general public. 

He points to the rampant growth of NASCAR, Professional Bull Riding, and professional poker over the past 20 years from their roots as fringe sports, relatively speaking, to mainstream spectacles with massive fan bases, TV contracts, and social media followings. Trail and ultrarunning aren't there yet, Abramowitz has noted, but they've certainly been growing rapidly.

"Today millions watch those events, though the actual number of participants is minuscule," Abramowitz wrote in his missive. "Ultrarunning can learn from these events: it needs new ideas, new ways of attracting the already committed runners and the casual sports fan to our terrific sport. Fields need to be competitive and races [need to be] dramatic; there are hundreds of 100-mile races, but those that offer competitive fields are a handful at most. Most ultra-races offer spectacular scenery in interesting venues." 

Abramowitz said sponsors should support races such as Run Rabbit Run that offer prize money not merely because it's good for sport, but also because prize money can attract competitive fields, and competitive fields attract interest-from spectators, participants, potential sponsors, and the general public. He also points out that having prize money at more domestic races is a way to keep the sport from becoming entirely Euro-centric, which has been an increasing trend in the past several years.

The trend of cash purses seems to be increasing, and on the face of it, that's good for elite athletes capable of podium finishes. But it's a complex topic and one that certainly will simultaneously increase the competitiveness of the sport while, some argue, continue to pull the sport away from its organic, racing-in-nature roots that was mostly viewed as the antithesis of competitive road racing. 

On the same day Run Rabbit Run paid out  $75,000 in total prize money, the Pikes Peak Ascent awarded $18,000 in prize money for its top 10 finishers-including $3,000 apiece to the men's and women's winners-while the Pikes Peak Marathon, on September 18, had an additional $10,500 in total prize money for the top five runners. The races also offered $2,000 (Ascent) and $4,000 (Marathon), respectively, as course-record bonuses, and a $10,000 premium to any runner surpassing a pie-in-the-sky time well ahead of the course records. None of those records were broken, but the $28,500 in total prize money-partially backed by  the Salomon-sponsored Golden Trail Series-was one of several large prize purses offered at U.S. races this year.

Other big American prize purses were also primarily tied to the Golden Trail Series events-the $50,000 spread over four races at the mid-June Broken Arrow Sky Races in Olympic Valley, California, and the September 25 Flagstaff Sky Peaks 26K race in Flagstaff, Arizona, where runners competed for $18,000 in prize money and a chance to compete at the Golden Trails World Series Final, and the $15,000 winner's earnings at the Madeira Ocean & Trails 5-Day Stage Race in October. 

Also of note, the November 18-20 Golden Gate Trail Classic paid out $25,000 in total prize money to the top five finishers in both the 100K and half-marathon races, which were part of this year's nine-race $270,000 Spartan Trail World Championship Series.

Meanwhile, the Cirque Series, sponsored by On, paid out $3,600 in total prize money at each of its six sub-ultra mountain running races in the U.S., including $1,000 for the men's and women's winners. The Mt. Baldy Run-to-the-Top on September 5 in Southern California offered $3,000 to runners who broke the event's longstanding course records, and Joe Gray and Kim Dobson obliged by taking down each mark.

Most U.S. Trail and Mountain Running Championships have a minimum of $2,000 in prize money. Typically that comes from regional sponsors eager to support the local race organizations, such as the case with Northeast Delta Dental's contributions behind this year's Loon Mountain Race in Lincoln, New Hampshire, which hosted the U.S. Mountain Running Championships. That event had a $1,500 total prize purse that was paid out to the top three men and women in each race, but it also had an additional $1,500 for an Upper Walking Boss premium that was spread among the top three fastest times in each gender on the super-steep upper part of the course.

Meanwhile, the 2022 World Mountain and Trail Running Championships in Thailand paid out $66,000 to the top five finishers over four races, including $4,000 to the winners of each event.

"(The prize money) is way better than it's ever been, both for the athletes earning it and the number of sponsors who are contributing to it," says Nancy Hobbs, executive director of the American Trail Running Association and the chairperson of the USATF Mountain Ultra Trail Council that oversees national championship races and the U.S. Mountain Running Team. 

From a longer view over the past decade or so, Joe Gray agrees there is more money coming into the sport than ever before. As a top-tier pro since 2008 and 21-time U.S. champion, he's regularly won more prize money at high-level races in Europe for more than a decade. But more than the growth of prize money, he has seen more brands interested in putting money behind athletes, races, and the sport in general.

"I think there has always been prize money there, and if you're successful you could make a lot more money really quickly," said Gray, a two-time World Mountain Running Champion. "I do think there is more money coming from the sponsors paying out better contracts and bigger bonuses, which I think will wind up being more beneficial to athletes overall."

Most elite trail runners get annual stipends from their sponsoring brands and bonus money for top performances. Gray is backed by Hoka, but he also has sponsorship deals with Fox River Socks, Kriva, Never Second, Knockdown, Tanri, Momentous, Casio, and GoSleeves. In addition to Hoka, Annie Hughes gets additional support from Ultraspire, Coros, and Tailwind Nutrition. But the life of professional trail runners-independent contractors who don't get healthcare and retirement program benefits-can get expensive with the growing cost of travel, regular bodywork/physio treatments, and private health insurance. 

The sport's top-tier elite athletes-Joe Gray, Kilian Jornet, Courtney Dauwalter, Jim Walmsley, Maude Mathys, and Scott Jurek, among others-make a good living from their sponsorships. But there are really only a handful American trail runners making more than about $50,000 a year from shoe brand sponsorships. (Most "sponsored" trail runners are making somewhere between $10,000 to $30,000 per year.) The bottom line is that winning prize money, for those who are fast enough to consistently finish on the podium in big races, certainly helps make ends meet and is necessary to keep the sport's top athletes from having to work other jobs so they can focus entirely on training, recovery, and racing.

"This [2022] is the first year I've gone all-in on trail running," said Hughes, who worked as a waitress in Leadville the previous two years. "I'm able to live off what I make, but I'm not really saving anything. So it was really nice to win that money because then I can put some away in savings."

Higher European Standards 

So far, Abramowitz appears to be right about the sport shifting to more of a European focus, and it's, at least in part, tied to the increased prize money that has attracted competitive athletes. While many top-tier European events have paid out modest prize purses for years, some of those races have also helped out visiting runners by way of travel stipends, hotel accommodations, or appearance fees. That's partially because European races are generally larger (500 to 1,000 participants or more) than U.S. races (typically fewer than 500 participants).

Unlike Hughes, who only raced in the U.S. this year, American runner Abby Hall, who runs for the Adidas-Terrex team, raced three times in Europe and earned prize money each time. She placed second in the Transgrancanaria 126K in the Canary Islands in March (which doubled as the Spartan Trail World Championship), finished third in the CCC 100K in Chamonix in August, and won the Transvulcania by UTMB 72K back in the Canary Islands in October.

Like Hughes, Hall receives an annual stipend and race bonuses from her sponsor, but admits it's been nice to have more opportunities to win money-both because it helps her make a living wage and because it's consistent with other professional endurance sports.

"In the past, it hadn't even been a consideration before, for how income would work out as an athlete," Hall said. "But this year it actually added up to be a decent amount. I'm grateful for the opportunities."

In 2022, American runner Hayden Hawks won an off-the-radar 100K a race in Krynica, Poland, and brought home the 100,000 zloty winner's prize ($26,000), one of the bigger individual purses ever awarded in trail running. In 2017, when Hawks won the CCC race, he didn't win anything because UTMB had refused until 2018 to offer prize money at its races, partly because race founders Catherine and Michel Poletti have believed that increased prize money will bring more incentive for some athletes to consider doping or that agents would take too big of a cut. 

UTMB finally began offering prize money to podium finishers in 2018 with a total purse of about $34,000 (35,000) and continued that through 2021. But after forging a business relationship with Ironman and launching the new UTMB World Series, it has increased the prize money awarded in Chamonix. In 2022, UTMB said it paid out about $162,000 in total prize money (the approximate equivalent of its stated 156,000 prize purse) to the top 10 men and women finishers of the UTMB, CCC, and OCC races.

That includes $10,400 to the winners of each of those races, with approximately $5,200 going to second-place finishers and $3,125 for third. Fourth- and fifth-place finishers in each of those races earned about $1,500, while 6th through 10th took home $1,000.

While those more notable ultrarunning paydays can be big windfalls for a trail runner, they still pale in comparison to what elite-level road marathoners and triathletes earn at the biggest races that have a much larger audience, including live TV coverage. For example, the 2022 Boston Marathon awarded $876,500 in prize money and $150,000 to the winners, while New York City Marathon paid out $530,000 in total prize money at its November 6 race, including $100,000 to the men's and women's winners. The 2021 Ironman World Championships in St. George, Utah, had a $750,000 prize purse, including $125,000 to the winners, similar to what was awarded at the 2022 Ironman World Championships October 6-8 in Hawaii. 

While only a few top trail runners could have opted to pursue a marathon or triathlon career instead of trail running, what's more relevant is the spike of growth trail running. Although it is not yet internationally televised as major marathons and triathlons are, the surge in participation and livestream viewing options is starting to bring in more media attention and sponsorship money than ever before. And more media attention begets more participation and professionalization. 

"I think we'll definitely see ultra-trail running continue to grow for years to come," says Mike McManus, director of global sports marketing for Hoka. "I think it's at a point where it's just on the cusp of the real growth that's coming and all that will come with it, similar to where the marathon was in the 1980s and triathlon in the 1990s. It might never be as big as marathoning, but trail running will definitely get more built out as it continues to grow."

"It's nice to make some money for the sport we do. This is my job, and being able to support my family with a decent chunk of money is pretty nice," Hawks says. "I definitely don't go after races just for money, but if there is a gap in my schedule where I can win a little bit of money, I am definitely going to take advantage of that for sure. I want to continue to be in this sport and live this lifestyle as long as I can, so knowing that there are sponsors and races investing more in runners is something I am really grateful for."

The Ongoing Dilemma

While Abramowitz and Sachs have been eager to give out prize money at Run Rabbit Run, not all races are equipped to do so. Many U.S. races are garage-shop operations that barely break even, while some are just too small to make it happen. The Western States 100-Mile Endurance Run (WSER) is operated by a non-profit organization, and offering prize money goes against the mission of the race, says race director Craig Thornley.

The biggest concern that race directors have, including Thornley, is that prize money attracts athletes willing to use performance-enhancing drugs because the sport lacks a comprehensive anti-doping strategy that includes both post-race testing and out-of-competition testing.

"In general, I think the prize money is probably a good thing because professional athletes are able to make a living," Thornley said. "But I think, as a sport, we'll probably have to be more aware of people trying to use drugs or some other ways to get that prize money." 

A few years ago, the Western States 100 famously announced its zero-tolerance policy regarding the use of performance-enhancing drugs (PEDs) that prohibits any athlete who has been determined to have violated anti-doping rules or policies-by World Athletics, World Anti-Doping Agency (WADA), U.S. Anti-Doping Agency (USADA), or any national sports federation-is ineligible for entry into the WSER. Although Western States has regularly drug-tested its top finishers, only a few other big trail or ultra-distance races test its finishers with a WADA-sanctioned program.

Thornley believes the incentive to cheat has probably increased as more brands have stepped up to sponsor athletes, but the increase in prize money probably makes it more tangible. 

He's not the only one. Ultrarunning coach and podcaster Jason Koop, an outspoken proponent for authentic drug-testing in the sport, agrees, saying that it's time for the sport to collectively start developing mandatory drug-testing protocols, even on a small scale. While he doesn't believe doping is prevalent in trail running, he believes it's definitely already an issue.

"People would be fooling themselves if they thought that every trail running performance was clean. If you think that that's the case, then I have a bridge to sell you," Koop says. "Prize money or no prize money, I think the bigger thing is that the ecosystem is developed enough and there is enough financial reward at stake to where everyone kind of owes it to everybody else to get something done."

In other words, it's time for the sport to take some next steps-either by big governing bodies or small factions of people interested in the long-term health of the sport-to develop more structure and universal anti-doping policies.

Kilian Jornet Won the Biggest Races and Launched His Own Apparel Brand

Heading into the 2022 ultramarathon season, Spanish runner Kilian Jornet hadn't contested a 100-mile race since 2018, when he dropped out of the Ultra-Trail du Mont Blanc (UTMB) following an allergic reaction from a bee sting. In the ensuing years, Jornet, now 35, had two children with his partner, Swedish ultrarunner Emelie Forsberg, and he launched his own trail-running footwear and apparel brand, NNormal. Fatherhood and entrepreneurship didn't slow him down, however; the running world's greatest of all time began the season with a win at Sweden's 100-mile Tjrnarparen Trail Ultra. He then pulled off an audacious double, winning Colorado's Hardrock 100 as well as the UTMB-and set course records in both events. Outside spoke with Jornet about his remarkable year.

OUTSIDE: You've done several 100-mile races in 2022 after a few years running shorter events. Was that a planned break? KILIAN JORNET: In 2019, I wanted to focus on shorter distances, with the Golden Trail Series and an Everest expedition. In 2020, I wanted to spend time with my family. To try something different, I trained mostly on roads. In 2021, the focus was on a trip to the Himalayas and getting fast in short distances, specifically the vertical kilometer.

Your long-term partnership with Salomon ended last year. What made you decide it was time to do your own thing? I've always been a geek when it comes to gear. I had the idea of developing something on my own, but it was more a dream than a project. Then last year, through a mutual friend, I met the Fluxa family, who own Camper shoes, and told them that I wanted to do something in the outdoor space. Since the first conversation, we saw that we shared the same values and vision around social and environmental responsibility. From there things went fast. I'm very grateful for all the years at Salomon, and for all their support and what we did together, but it was time to do something different.

How did the idea for NNormal come about? We thought that the best way to implement our ideas-in terms of products, marketing, and corporate responsibility-was to create our own company. The benefit of cofounding a company is that you don't need to answer to shareholders at the end of the year, so you can develop your mission without any pressure. Of course, you want it to be economically sustainable, but you can always put product and company values at the forefront.

With the exploding popularity of ultrarunning, do you believe there will be more professional athletes in the near future? In the past five years, I've seen many more athletes becoming professional-not just to survive, but earning a good salary. More brands are creating teams with great resources. I think that will continue, and I hope it increases equality and diversity in the sport. Many of the big competitions have fewer female participants than male, and many of the sponsorships are from brands in Western countries. In this regard, brands have a big role to play, not only in equal sponsorship opportunities, but also when it comes to marketing and communication.

Many outdoor apparel brands say that protecting the environment is an important part of their company philosophy. How does NNormal plan to tackle that challenge? At NNormal we want to focus on durability. That means making products that perform well for a long time and are easy to repair. They should also have emotional durability, which means that they look good today and in five years. We want to make collections that are timeless and not designed according to seasonal trends. It's important to have great standards when it comes to the environmental footprint of the materials as well as the production process. Most important, we want to base our business model not on overconsumption but on finding different ways to be economically sustainable.

The running-shoe market is notoriously competitive. What makes you optimistic that NNormal can succeed? The first thing is to define success. Is it to sell a lot, or to have a quality product? We have a great team of footwear developers-we have the experience of Camper for shoe development and comfort, and we have a very talented group for performance footwear. For our first shoe, the Kjerag, we wanted to make something that performs well on different terrain and over different distances. I think our approach of durability, comfort, and versatility will appeal to many athletes. But we'll see what our customers think.

Three things this pro ultrarunner is doing to save the planet

Ultrarunner, coach and activist Damian Hall is taking steps to tackle the climate emergency and has advice for runners who want to do the same. U.K.-based Hall is a record-breaking endurance athlete who holds multiple huge FKTs, including the Cape Wrath Trail, Wainwright’s Coast to Coast and the Pennine Way; he also took fifth at UTMB in 2018.

Hall uses his record attempts to raise awareness about the climate emergency, including taking public transport to races and fuelling without animal products or plastic waste. He collects litter and raises money for Greenpeace on his runs, and has recently written his second book: We Can’t Run Away From This.

Hall is also co-founder of The Green Runners, a group that strives to inform runners about their impact on the planet (when training, eating and racing) so they can make decisions about how to change their behaviour.

“Though I think individuals should only fuss about their individual CO2e [carbon dioxide equivalent] footprint so much, there are three big areas where we can reduce our impact,” says Hall. Travel, diet and gear (or kit, as Hall calls it) are what Hall calls the big three. Here’s what we can all do.

Limit travel to races

“For most runners and outdoor folk, the largest slice of their individual emissions will be caused by travel, which accounts for one-fifth of global emissions. Flying is the most carbon-intensive thing we can do, Hall recently explained to Adventure Books.

Hall suggests using public transportation as much as possible, but that can be tricky in North America. Public transportation (i.e., trains) is not nearly as accessible in Canada as in Europe, and with many runners living outside of big cities, travel can seem like a necessary evil in order to race.

While carpooling whenever possible helps, I asked Hall for more suggestions around this. “That’s tricky, and I think individuals who already care and are already making sacrifices shouldn’t punish themselves too much further. We should continue to do the things that give us joy, but maybe with a little less harm to the planet where possible,” says Hall.

Hall’s tip: “Nowadays I ask myself:  A. Do I really need to do the race? B. If so, what’s the lowest-carbon way I can practically travel there? C. Can I stay longer and/or make more out of the trip? D. Offsetting definitely isn’t the solution, but I do it anyway.”

Eat less meat

“Eating meat is terrible for the planet,” says Hall.  “Meat and dairy alone are responsible for 18 per cent of global CO2e, more than travel. Beef is by far the worst offender. This graph turned me vegan,” he adds. “A quarter of our footprint comes from food, and it can be reduced by over 70 per cent simply by cutting out animal flesh and juices.”

What about locally or sustainably-raised meat? Hall says it’s just as bad. “Eating local isn’t usually better environmentally (90 per cent of international food is shipped, which is really efficient). “Food waste is also far more significant than where the food came from and what it’s wrapped in,” he explains.

Buy less gear

Those shoes you purchased because they were touted as eco-friendly? Hall says they’re part of the problem. ‘The industry excels at “greenwash,” bandying phrases like “eco-friendly” about while pumping out an endless stream of products in what constitutes an overconsumption crisis,” he explains. The running shoe industry is responsible for approximately the same annual emissions as the entire U.K., Hall shares.

“Those shoes are almost all made from plastic (i.e., fossil fuels), almost all are non-recyclable and brands tell us we should bin our daps after 300 miles in case they injure us (which no studies prove),” says Hall. Our running attire is just as bad. “The clothing industry as a whole is responsible for many times more pollution again, possibly as much as 10 per cent of global CO2e,” adds Hall. “And then there’s the large range of environmental and ethical issues around the production process.”

Hall’s tip: “The most sustainable kit is the stuff we’re already wearing. We need to buy less and make it last longer.”

‘To me it’s fairly simple: do your best with the big three: travel, kit and diet. No one is, or can be, perfect. We’re just seeking progress,” says Hall, explaining that we don’t need to entirely give up the things we love. He has one more tip for us–advocate. “Help push for system change. Join protests, vote, email your representatives, push for changes in your local running club or race.”

Kilian Jornet’s favorite fuel: you’ll feel like you’re ready to summit Everest

Arguably the GOAT of ultrarunning, 2022 UTMB and Hardrock champ Kilian Jornet lives in Norway with his partner (and fellow pro runner) Emilie Forsberg, where they grow their own vegetables and use them to create nutritious meals. They love these bean and lentil burgers, and you will too–full of protein and adaptable to every season.

Forsberg shares the recipe in her book Skyrunner: the burgers take less than ten minutes to prep, and work as a side or main dish. Forsberg writes: “I can eat these anytime, in summer with a light salad and roasted or grilled root vegetables, or in autumn or winter with tasty mashed potatoes, olive oil and salt.” Forsberg and Jornet eat mostly plant-based meals, and the combo of beans and lentils in these burgers packs a perfect plant-based protein punch.

Emelie’s bean and lentil burgers (makes 12 larger burgers)

Ingredients

1¾ cup cooked black beans

¾ cup cooked green lentils

¾ cup cooked red lentils

1 egg

3 Tbsp cornmeal

½ to 1 finely chopped onion

Salt and pepper

Other spices, like turmeric or chili powder, to taste

Olive oil for frying

Directions

Mix everything in a blender or food processor. Form the batter into burgers; fry in olive oil.

Ultrarunner Tim Tollefson shares mental health challenges in new film

Tim Tollefson is a celebrated American ultratrail runner with wins at big races like the Javelina Jundred, Lavaredo Ultra Trail 120K and Ultra Trail Australia 100K; in 2017 he was third overall at Ultra Trail du Mont Blanc (UTMB), finishing well under 20 hours.

But then followed a string of failures, including at this year’s UTMB, which went badly from the start, forcing him to drop out about four hours in. (Tollefson went into the race with a positive COVID result.) A new film, What Goes Unsaid, reveals something only those closest to Tollefson knew previously–alongside his many successes and the admiration of his fans, for years Tollefson has been dealing with poor mental health and an eating disorder.

Tollefson, who is sponsored by Coros, had a tough adjustment when his family moved from rural Minnesota to the Auburn, Calif. (the sight of the iconic Western States 100 finish) when he was 10, and he was bullied– for wearing glasses, for his accent and his haircut. He started running in middle school, which helped him feel more accepted.

But it also made him want to be leaner, and more like the other runners’ body types he observed on the team; and since he wasn’t the only one trying to eat less to force his body to conform to an “ideal” body weight, he didn’t realize how insidious and dangerous it could be. 

Tollefson qualified for the 2012 Olympic Marathon trials, but struggled in his brief marathon career, ultimately switching to trail running, which he hoped would bring greater success (and therefore self-acceptance). UTMB represented, in his mind, the acme of achievement in the ultratrail world–and he describes his 2017 podium finish, where he broke 20 hours (along with winner François D’Haene and runner-up Kilian Jornet) as the best race of his career. (He finished third in 2016 also.)

But the euphoria was short-lived. In 2018, he returned to UTMB and DNF’d–and again in 2019 and 2021. In the flim, he reveals that, even during the good years, he would almost be paralyzed with anxiety over being seen by others, and by perfectionism, severe body dysmorphia and obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD).

Interestingly, this is one of the reasons he was attracted to UTMB: it starts in the evening, and much of the first half of the race takes place in darkness. By the time the sun rises, he has run long enough to feel slightly less bad about being seen. “I feel thin again, because I’ve run for 12 hours,” says Tollefson.

Tollefson says it’s not the running, or the altitude, that strikes fear into his heart–it’s being seen by other runners. He says he has been counting calories since 2003, and he only sought therapy recently. He now recognizes that what he sees when he looks in the mirror is distorted and not real. 

Having grown up in the area and competed at Placer High (where Western States runners finish), Tollefson avoided it until 2021. He admits he was always critical of the race, whose course is not as technical or as spectacular as UTMB’s. Ultimately, he realized he was holding it to an unfair standard–much as he had always done to himself and his body. And he decided to run it.

He finished fifth last year, and as his fans already know, this year he finished, but not without struggling mightily–against dehydration and a powerful urge to quit. He placed 33rd overall, with a time of 20:41:28. “I decided that I wasn’t going to give up on myself,” Tollefson told filmmaker Billy Yang, who was commentating, after finishing. He also felt he owed it to his crew the volunteers and the runners who didn’t make it off the waitlist, to finish. 

He shares his story now in the hope that it will encourage others to do the same. Several female athletes (including Olympic bronze medallist Molly Seidel, trail runner Amelia Boone and steeplchaser Allie Ostrander) have shared their stories, but as Tollefson’s makes clear, eating disorders are not limited to female athletes. (Canadian beer miler Corey Bellemore opened up about his own experience during the pandemic.)

“When other people share things publicly, and I relate or emphathize, it makes me feel less alone,” he says. “I’ve never had the confidence to reach out to those people and say thank you, but I know it has an impact.”

This nutritious pizza is fuel for the fastest, you might not be able to run as quickly as Kilian Jornet and Emelie Forsberg, but you can definitely eat like them

Power-ultrarunning couple Kilian Jornet and Emelie Forsberg have it all–glorious mountain miles to run surrounding their home in Norway, the launch of athletic brand NNormal, and delectable home-cooked meals baked from their small family farm. While Jornet recently won both Hardrock 100 and UTMB, Forsberg is an accomplished athlete herself and details her running journey in her book Skyrunner.

Forsberg is also the co-founder of Moonvalley, a plant-based sports nutrition company, with fellow pro runners Ida Nilsson and Mimmi Kotka. Forsberg has a simple pizza recipe that is so easy and versatile you’ll want to have it on a weekly rotation.

Homemade pizza is a family favourite at my house. Since our kids were little, my husband and I have taken turns whipping up a batch of pizza dough, pulling out whatever vegetables we find in the fridge and letting everyone create their own masterpieces. The best part about pizza is that it’s easy to cater to everyone’s unique tastes–try a double batch of dough or split this recipe into four for individual pies.

Emelie Forsberg’s ‘Fast Food’ Veggie Pizza

Ingredients (makes two pizzas)

Dough:

2 1/4 cups almond flour (since there is no yeast in this recipe, Forsberg suggests any type of flour without wheat, including corn, coconut, chickpea, or a combo)

3/4 cup water

1/2 tsp salt

1/2 tsp garlic powder

1/2 tsp baking powder

1 Tbsp vegetable oil

Toppings:

assorted veggies of choice (mushrooms, beets, eggplant, tomato)

tomato sauce

cheese (can use vegan)

arugula for topping

Directions

Mix all the dough ingredients together well. Roll out the dough on some parchment paper and pre-bake it for 5 mins at 225 C (440 F).

While the dough is pre-baking, start chopping your veggies. Forsberg says she throws in what she has at home, and if she’s in a hurry will simply use plain store-bought tomato sauce.

Add tomato sauce, veggies, and your choice of cheese, and pop back in the oven at 220 C for approx 10 more minutes. Top with arugula and enjoy.

Kilian Jornet Isn't The G.O.A.T. of Trail Running Just Because He Wins Big Races

After Kilian Jornet won the Ultra-Trail du Mont-Blanc (UTMB) for a record-tying fourth time on August 27, it was easy to assume that running 100 miles is something that comes easy to him.

It doesn't, but it would be easy to think that because, well, it sure looked that way.

While the 34-year-old who hails from the Catalan region of Spain has long ago established himself as the G.O.A.T. of ultra-distance trail running in the mountains, he's as human as each of the other 2,300 runners who toed the line at this year's UTMB. Like his fellow competitors, Jornet felt fatigue in his legs from grinding through the 171.5km (106.5-mile) course and its 33,000 feet of elevation gain. He said he had difficulty breathing when he ran too fast or climbed too abruptly, likely the lingering effects of having just overcome Covid-19 earlier in the month.

And, like everyone else, he had to fight off low moments of mental torment, and maybe even a tiny trace of self-doubt-remember, he's human-as American rival Jim Walmsley opened up a big lead on him over the Grand Col Ferret as the course passed from Italy to Switzerland.

But what sets Jornet apart, and what has always distinguished him as an athlete, is a unique combination of physical ability, smart racing strategy and a deep connection to the mountains that allows him to move joyfully, patiently and, at times, seemingly with relative ease amid the physical anguish that comes with running such a grueling race.

But make no mistake, he suffered enroute to winning UTMB in a course-record 19 hours, 49 minutes, even if he made it look easy overcoming Walmsley and dispatching competent French contender Mathieu Blanchard.

"Since the start there has not been a single moment in which I didn't suffer," Jornet said after the race. "I knew that I needed to keep my intensity under a certain threshold where it can be heavy for the lungs, but it was no problem. But muscularly it was very hard from the start of the race."

Jornet is human, even if it took a debilitating illness to show it. But as he turned in yet another masterwork performance on the world's biggest stage, Jornet gave glimpses of what has made him so otherworldly for so long. Perhaps surprisingly, superior physicality is only a small part of it.Patience and Respect

Having already won UTMB three times and Hardrock a record-tying five times-most recently just six weeks earlier-Jornet had nothing to prove in Chamonix. In fact, if he had never toed the line or for that matter retires from competition, his legacy of epic race victories and Fastest Known Time (FKT) records on some of the most difficult trails and biggest mountains around the world would stand the test of time.

But that brings up another element that makes Jornet great is that he has always run as if he had nothing to prove. Sure, he's a competitive athlete, but his focus seems to be more about immersing in the zest of competition and the life-affirming bliss he's always felt in the mountains.

For Jornet, the destination truly is the journey, not the outcome. That adventure-oriented focus was something he learned in his youth growing up in the high-alpine environment of the Cap de Rec mountain refuge in the Spanish Pyrenees, where his dad was a mountain guide and his mom was a ski instructor. He climbed his first peak at age 3 and started competing in ski mountaineering races at 12.

Along the way, he developed a grounded sense of presence in the mountains that has allowed him to remain calm and bide his time in ultra-distance races-especially more rugged mountain races like UTMB and Hardrock. Instead of going all-out from the front, he typically follows a more fluid strategy of just staying in contact with the lead group and letting the race play out a bit as the terrain dictates before becoming hyper-competitive.

Contrast that to Walmsley, who has been hellbent on becoming the first American man to win the race with a front-running mentality, countryman Zach Miller, who returned after injuries and Covid-19 kept him away from continuing the same pursuit for three years, and the hard-charging Blanchard, who was eager to steal the show and make a name for himself in front of a supportive mostly French crowd after a robust third-place finish in 2021.

Even when Jornet was younger, he ran with maturity and wisdom beyond his years, always earnestly clinging to the premise that the experience of racing-and sharing it with his competitors, not to mention spectators and volunteers when possible-is always more important than the actual race itself.

When Walmsley built a big lead with a strong power-hiking surge up the Grand Col Ferret, Jornet was seemingly content, at that moment, to ease through the highest point of the course, chatting at times with volunteers, fans and videographers in French, Spanish or English as he had done at times earlier in the race. In previous UTMB races, he's burst ahead on the switchbacks up Grand Col Ferret and other steep climbs on that course, only to stop on top and wait for his competitors to catch up while gazing at the stars or picking mushrooms with children.

"At Hardrock this year, when I saw him on top of Grant Swamp Pass, he stopped in the middle of the race just to chat with me because we hadn't seen each other in a while," Miller says. "That's just the way Kilian is."A Versatile Mountain Athlete

Jornet has a much more diverse set of athletic skills and abilities than most ultrarunners. In addition to winning ultras, Jornet was a multiple world champion in ski mountaineering and SkyRunning in his twenties. He also set a host of new speed ascent marks and roundtrips on Mt. Kilimanjaro (Tanzania), Aconcagua (Argentina), Mont Blanc (France) and the Matterhorn (Switzerland). Although he missed in his attempt to set a new FKT on 29,032-foot Mt. Everest in 2017, he actually summited the world's highest mountain twice in six days without supplemental oxygen.

When he was a few years younger, he set a new record on the 171-mile Tahoe Rim Trail in California and Nevada and posted the fastest-ever time up the steep, rocky 1.3-mile Mt. Sanitas Trail in Boulder, Colorado.

"Kilian is a beast," says Francois D'Haene, the other four-time UTMB winner who last year became the first to win Hardrock and UTMB in the same summer. "When it comes to Vertical K races and distances from 40K to 100K, I think there is no competition between us. He's faster than me and stronger than me, especially on technical terrain."

Aside from long-and-rugged Hardrock and UTMB, Jornet won the shorter and much faster 42km Zegama Alpine Marathon in Spain and placed fourth in the 31km Sierre-Zinal village-to-village race in Switzerland in August. A lot of it has to do with the fact that he still trains in much of the same fashion as he did as a kid, often focusing more on fun, hard, playful days of adventure on foot or on skis as much as he does structured high-performance workouts.

"Kilian is unique in the range that he can cover," Miller says. "As a runner, his ability to switch back and forth from something like Zegama to Hardrock to Sierre-Zinal to UTMB is just incredible. And because of that ability, I think he's a bit of a mad scientist when it comes to training. He kind of turns himself into a guinea pig and trains in ways other guys might not be willing to for fear of overtraining."

All of that translated into Jornet's ability to win this year's UTMB despite trailing Walmsley by about 15 minutes at the 126km aid station at Champex. When the surging Blanchard caught him and quickly left the aid station, Jornet's competitiveness and mountain practicality started to fire up. They passed Walmsley and gapped him and then ran stride for stride over the ensuing 2,300-foot climb from the village of Trient down into the ski town of Valloricine.

Finally, after leaving the 153km aid station at the same moment as Blanchard, Jornet surged on a gently sloped 4km section of trail to the base of the final 2,600-foot climb up Tte aux Vents. Blanchard got a first-hand view of the master at work and all he could do was watch him run away to victory and hold on for second place.

"Running from Champex with Mathieu, I knew I was stronger going up but that he was catching on the downhills," said Jornet, who has lived in Norway for the past several years with his wife, Emelie Forsberg, and their two young children. "Once we got to Valloricine, the strategy was to push very hard up the final climb to Tte aux Vents and then manage the lead. I had about an 8-minute lead and I was feeling comfortable with it, but in a ultra race you never know, many things can happen."A Transcendent Athlete

At some point a conversation about Jornet should transcend trail running and include the similarities he shares with other great athletes who have had a similarly dominant presence in other sports. And yes, that means Tom Brady, Michael Jordan, Lindsay Vonn, Eddie Merckx, Michael Phelps, Ann Trason, Lynn Hill, Kelly Slater and Eliud Kipchoge.

Why not? Like each of those all-time athletes, Jornet has consistently risen to the occasion at the biggest moments of his career, not only because he physically outclasses the competition, but also because his intellectual prowess as an athlete and his ability to outthink, outwit and outlast them. It's not that he wins everything-although he's won the vast majority of his races since winning UTMB as a 20-year-old in 2008-it's more that he's been competing at the highest level for 15 years and hasn't regressed and has rarely had bad days.

In 2017, he had a rough go of it in the UTMB and finished second to D'Haene and in 2018 he dropped out after inflammation and pain caused by a pre-race bee sting made it difficult to keep running.

"Even his bad races he performs well, and I think that's what makes Kilian special," says Walmsley, who finished fourth at UTMB this year. "Whether it's a bad moment or a bad race, he's always still competing at a really high level. I have raced him twice at UTMB and both times I have thought I have found a crack, but I haven't been able to hold onto it."

Until recently, Jornet might have been viewed solely for his athletic. But with his bold move this year to break away from longtime sponsor Salomon and begin a new environmentally friendly trail running shoe brand called NNormal (with Spanish footwear brand Camper), he's not only begun to hone his entrepreneurial spirit in the world of business but also to make an impact as the environmental steward he's always been.

It's a path only a handful of high-level outdoor athletes achieved success at after making their mark in their sport disciplines, most notably Yvon Chouinard, a climber, surfer and kayaker who founded Patagonia in 1970.

Jornet ran all of his races this year in the same model of NNormal shoes that will be available at running shops and online this fall. It's a uniquely designed shoe that's balanced under the midfoot to promote midfoot and forefoot running gaits, but with enough cushioning to run with a heel-striking stride, especially on downhill sections of a trail. A thin polyurethane plate provides protection from rocks and some energy return, while a proprietary version of a Vibram Litebase Megagrip outsole serves up secure traction.

That all might sound pretty standard, but Jornet really wants his NNormal shoes to stand out for their durability. He and his colleagues have gone to great lengths to source long-lasting components, but they've also designed the shoe to be deconstructed so it will be easy to re-sole, repair or recycle it after hundreds of miles of wear and tear. It's all part of NNormal's No Trace philosophy that is all aimed at transparently designing gear with the smallest carbon footprint possible.

"There are a lot of good guys in the sport, but in [my] mind, Kilian is the king of the sport," says Miller, who was the fifth finisher at UTMB this year. "He sets the tone for the entire sport and [is] a great representative of the sport."

How Dani Moreno Became the First-Ever American Woman to Podium at the OCC Race at UTMB

"How far is the podium?!" Dani Moreno yelled to her French friend as she crested a high point in the race at this week's hyper-competitive OCC race, based in Chamonix, France.

"Too far!" her friend responded. 

He would later regret saying that. Why? Because 6 hours and 17 minutes after starting, Dani Moreno, 30, from the Mammoth Lakes, California, secured her spot on the podium to finish in third place, the first-ever American woman to reach this level at OCC. 

The OCC (Orsieres-Champex-Chamonix) race is a 56km (35 mile) option with 3500 m (11,500 feet) of elevation gain. Unlike the UTMB 100-mile race that circumnavigates Mount Blanc, starting and finishing in Chamonix, France, the OCC option begins in Switzerland and stays in the Valais region, until the finish, where it drops into the Chamonix valley. Winners expect to arrive at the finish in under six hours, while the cutoff is 14 hours, 30 minutes.  

Weeks prior to OCC, Moreno experienced an unusually difficult race at Sierre-Zinal, in Switzerland. Before the race, she lost someone close to her back at home and a funeral service was the week of the race. She thinks the emotion caught up with her. 

"I went into that race realizing I hadn't fully grieved," said Moreno. "I didn't represent myself and all this work I'd done." But after overwhelming support from friends and family, she recalibrated for OCC and showed up ready to compete. Her fiance traveled to Chamonix to help crew, along with a couple of friends.

Early in the race, Moreno would pass competitors on the ups and get passed on the downs, and yet she kept saying to herself: trust, trust, trust. Trusting in her strengths and pacing was critical, and it paid off halfway into the race. 

"I passed five girls and moved into fourth at the halfway point," she said. "I could see the third-place woman but didn't know what was happening in front of them. Then third place and I were battling it out."

"You are As Strong As You Think You Are"

Moreno's secret weapon? Having fun-no matter what.  

"It was fun the whole time," said Moreno. "Well, maybe the last downhill was agonizing because I was really trying to see if I could catch second place." She would make airplane arms, pretending to fly, while high-fiving spectators, always with a smile. "It felt like a fun day out with my friends." 

Before the last descent, she received a huge boost after seeing her ultrarunning hero, Ruth Croft, who offered her words of encouragement. And at one of the last spots along the course, she remembers her fiance yelling to her: "You are as strong as you think you are!"

"Those last 90 minutes I sort of blacked out," said Moreno, digging deep to try and catch up to the second place woman. A few hundred yards from the finishing chute, she knew she'd done it, and the joy of her last few hundred yards was palpable. "It was a lot. First, I was like, I did it, but then I was like we did it. My coach, my family, everyone that believed in me."

Moreno finished in 6 hours and 17 minutes, only 7 minutes off the winning woman, Sheila Aviles, from Spain. The second-place woman, Nria Gil, finished only one minute ahead. Other American women in the top ten were Kimber Maddox (4th) and Allie McLaughlin (6th). 

Running As Expression, Running As Order.

Dani Moreno moved to the eastern slope of California's Sierra Nevada Mountains after living and attending university at UCSB, where she ran cross country. Moreno is a four-time member of Team USA and a two-time USA champion. In addition to competing at the highest levels of the sport, Moreno maintains a full-time job at a construction firm, working in mergers and acquisitions. 

"First, I was like, I did it, but then I was like we did it."  

OCC was the longest race-both time and distance-that Moreno had ever pursued. But on her website, she writes that her goal is "to solidify myself as one of the best mountain runners in the world at the sub-ultra-distances." Refreshingly, she appears content with fine-tuning her performances in shorter trail races. So often in this sport, athletes feel pressure to level up to increasingly longer distances. For the next couple years, Moreno hopes to focus on marathon trail distances. However, more ultras are very much on the horizon.

"My plan is to do a 100K in the next year and a half, nestled between other shorter races, and keep inching my way up," she said. Moreno mentioned not wanting to do the CCC yet, the 101K option at UTMB. Yet. 

"I'd like to do OCC again, and go about a little more aggressively this time." She plans to finish the Golden Trail Series, too, which she did last year.  

Want to Run a UTMB Race? Here are Moreno's Three Rules: 

Respect the weather. The weather in this dramatic region can change in an instant. Be ready for anything. "Practicing with your equipment is key," she says.  

Learn how to move and fuel. Moreno is strict about practicing eating and drinking while training. During her OCC race she mixed up sports drinks and foods, things she was familiar with. The best place to learn what works-and what doesn't-is during training. "It's okay to fail during training," she said. Better to fail in training than in a race. 

Be prepared for undulations. Constant ups and downs. "The undulations. Sometimes in the U.S. we tend to only go up and then down, and that's it. Here, there are multiple [big] ups and downs." 

Beyond the competition, Moreno seeks trails not only as an elite athlete, but as a way of becoming a whole person, of building order and resiliency into her life. 

"It helps me get through a lot of stuff," said Moreno. "It helps me organize and compartmentalize stuff in my life. Sometimes in life I can get overwhelmed by my emotions, Running provides important guidelines for that."

2022 UTMB Women’s Race

An American living in France and eighth-place finisher at UTMB in 2021, Katie Schide set out to make her mark on the race from the beginning, leading the women’s field after seven kilometers into Les Houches while being trailed closely by the trio of Marianne Hogan from Canada, Kaytlyn Gerbinfrom the USA, and Hillary Allen from the USA.

Schide grew the gap over the next 13 kilometers into Saint-Gervais. With only one hour and 48 minutes on the race clock, a truly raw opening effort, her lead over second place Hogan was already five minutes, and she had eight minutes on third place Audrey Tanguy (pre-race interview) of France. Jocelyne Pauly and Manon Bohard, both from France also, came through in fourth and fifth with Mimmi Kotka (pre-race interview), a Swede living in Chamonix, just behind them in sixth. 

Fu-Zhao Xiang (pre-race interview) of China, Ragna Debats (pre-race interview), who is Dutch but lives in Spain, and Azara García (pre-race interview) of Spain rounded out the top 10, running together 13 minutes behind Schide.Keeping up her consistent and strong pace, Schide continued to increase her lead on the rest of the women’s field, coming into Les Contamines at 31 kilometers with 2:50 on the race clock.

By then, she’d extended her lead on Hogan to over nine minutes, Tanguy to 12 minutes, and Bohard and Pauly to 15 minutes. Tanguy was probably relieved to make it past Les Contamines where she had dropped last year from severe stomach cramps. A visibility limping Kotka, who had challenged Courtney Dauwalter during last year’s UTMB during the early miles of the race before finishing third as Dauwalter won, came into Les Contamines nearly 20 minutes off the lead in sixth and would not continue.

Schide continued to smile coming through the Col du Bonhomme, at about a marathon’s distance into the race, clearly enjoying her run through the night and appreciating the cheers of the spectators. Climbing one of the largest passes of the race only seemed to make her stronger. Her gap to Hogan and Tanguy had grown to about 20 minutes as the two chasers crested the col.

The cheers from the enthusiastic French crowd brought smiles to both women’s faces as they passed through. The cheers continued for Bohard and Pauly, who were still running together.

The crowd at Les Chapieux, 50 kilometers in, was enthused to see Schide, erupting in huge cheers as she came in. While the gaps between the women in second through 10th grew and shrunk over the kilometers, Schide’s gap on the field had only gone one direction so far: up. She was now more than 22 minutes up on second place Hogan. By the time Schide got to Lac Combal, 66 kilometers into the race, the gap was up to 25 minutes, and it would be an additional 20 minutes for Tanguy to arrive after that.With 80 kilometers run, Schide came into Courmayeur flying, spending only eight minutes at the aid station approximately halfway into the race.

The crowds were thrilled to see her, providing a warm and raucous welcome as she ran into the aid station looking smooth. But for the first time in the race thus far, Hogan had started to close the gap to the leader, whittling it down to just over 20 minutes. Smiling but with a stomach that couldn’t handle gels any more, she quickly drank a Coke and opted for pizza for fuel. The gap between the top two women and the rest of the field continued to grow, and it was over an hour before Tanguy, Pauly, and Gerbin ran through, and a few more minutes after them to the sixth woman, Emily Hawgood, of Zimbabwe, who lives in the USA.

While Schide had seemed unstoppable before Courmayeur, the tables seemed to turn over the next 17 kilometers to Arnouvaz as night turned to day. Schide came in with stomach issues, clearly in a rough spot, with Hogan hot on her heels, now only two minutes behind. Closing a gap of more than 18 minutes is a feat to be acknowledged, and a feisty and strong Hogan seemed energized by the coming of the day and the idea of leading the race for the first time.

A struggling Schide maintained her lead over the Grand Col Ferret at 102 kilometers, but it was down to a minute, and when the women’s leader arrived at La Fouly at 112 kilometers, it was Hogan instead of Schide for the first time, with a sizable six-minute gap.

By Champex-Lac at 125 kilometers, it was still Hogan in the lead and well under course record pace, now with a 10-minute gap to second. But Schide wasn’t about to give up, slowing down to let her stomach recover from its previous rough spell, and finally eating a cheese sandwich and starting to move well again.

One hundred miles is a long distance to race, long enough that runners can get through rough spells and rebound. And that’s exactly what Schide did, regaining the lead in Trient at kilometer 142, not only eliminating the 10-minute gap but putting an additional 10 minutes on Hogan. By Vallorcine at 153 kilometers, the gap between the top two was up to 41 minutes, with Hogan nursing a hurt left leg.

By the time the pair reached the finish line in Chamonix, they maintained their one-two position with Schide having extended the gap to some 75 minutes.It was another 35 minutes later that we saw the final member of the women’s podium arrive, Gerbin, who ran for much of the second half of the race in what she described as “no woman’s land,” well in front of those behind her but out of contact with the lead.

It was apparently a comfortable spot for her, though, as she held her position strongly, and crossed the finish line back in Chamonix like she could run plenty more kilometers if needed.

Pauly finished fourth, the successful conclusion of a focused day of racing. Eszter Csillag, who is from Hungary but lives in Hong Kong, moved up later on to take fifth. Emily Hawgood ran strong all day to set and maintain a very similar position of sixth place. Xiang held tight to seventh place with Spain’s Aroa Sio just behind in eighth. Italy’s Francesca Pretto and Eva-Maria Sperger of Germany moved up into the top 10 in the last 50 kilometers.

2022 UTMB Men’s Race

As expected, the men took the race out fast from the start on the relatively flat roads and trails from Chamonix to the village of Les Houches. Spain’s Pau Capell, the 2019 UTMB winner, led a charging group through Les Houches, seven kilometers into the race, followed closely by Mathieu Blanchard, a Frenchman living in Canada, and Jia-Ju Zhao and Guo-Min Deng, both of China. All the top contenders were in a massive chase pack, settling in for the long night and day ahead.

It didn’t take long for Jim Walmsley (pre-race interview) of the USA to make his intentions for this year’s race clear, coming into Saint-Gervais, at 20 kilometers into the race, in the lead, looking strong and relaxed. Kilian Jornet and Capell were just seconds behind with Deng, Zhao, and American Zach Miller making up a chase group half a minute in arrears. They were followed by Frenchman Germain Grangier, Blanchard, Frenchman Thibaut Garrivier, and Yan-Qiao Yun of China.

Unsurprisingly, by Les Contamines, 31 kilometers into the race, it was shaping up to be a showdown between Walmsley and Jornet. They came into the aid station together looking relaxed, Walmsley taking the time to high-five fans, and were shortly on their way into the night together. Capell and Miller came in just 30 seconds back, and Grangier rounded out the top five, just a minute behind them.

A notable withdrawal around this time due to physical issues is last year’s second place finisher, Frenchman Aurélien Dunand-Pallaz (pre-race interview).

Climbing over the high Col du Bonhomme, 43 kilometers in, Walmsley, Miller, Jornet, and Tom Evans (pre-race interview) of the U.K. shared the lead. With 1,160 meters (3,800 feet) of climbing down just on this one climb, everyone in the group looked relaxed and was moving well. Capell was just 90 seconds back, trying not to let the elastic to the front group snap in the dark of the night on the run over to Col du Bonhomme before the long descent into the remote French outpost of Les Chapieux.

The four leaders stayed together down to Les Chapieux, 50 kilometers into the race, where last year’s winner, François D’Haene — not participating this year — was spectating and cheering on runners. Unfortunately, Capell had lost contact with the lead group over the previous section, coming into the aid station more than two minutes back. The rest of the top nine stayed relatively the same with Erik Sorenson of the USA slotting in 10th for the first time.Coming into Lac Combal, 66 kilometers into the race, after crossing country borders into Italy and traversing the most remote part of the course, Walmsley and Jornet had only slightly pulled away, their gap to Miller and Evans hung at a tenuous minute. All four looked strong, but it seemed like pre-race predictions of a two-man showdown were about to be realized.

Walmsley, with his arms and legs fully covered from the cold of the night but shirt front open, came into the town of Courmayeur, 80 kilometers in, solo and in the lead, but his gap on Jornet just 80 seconds.

Both men were moving well and left the aid station together after only a few minutes. It was a significant 12 minutes before Evans and Miller came through, staying in Courmayeur for under three minutes. Blanchard, looking more relaxed than any of the previous four, was also in and out of the aid station quickly, 18 minutes off the lead. Known for his slower starts and late race surges, Blanchard appeared to know exactly what he was doing.

It was never a question of if Walmsley or Jornet would strike out on their own, it was just a matter of when. Walmsley was the first to throw down a serious acceleration, coming into Arnouvaz (97 kilometers) solo and with a 2.5-minute gap on Jornet. Both were in and out of the aid station quickly, looking strong and motivated. Blanchard also chose the trail between Courmayeur and Arnouvaz to make his move, coming into the Arnouvaz aid station in third, looking very controlled and 14 minutes behind the leaders.

He was familiar with that position in the race, having finished third in UTMB in 2021. He was also familiar with the race tactic of starting slower, letting the leaders fight it out early and tire themselves out, and then moving up as the fast starters dropped back. It had brought him success the previous year, and he was seemingly employing the strategy again. Miller and Evans continued to run near each other, what Evans would later refer to as a “bromance” that lasted over half the race, and both looked like they had less spring in their step than the men ahead of them.

Committed to making the move stick, Walmsley climbed the Grand Col Ferret at 102 kilometers with a strong powerhike and held a five-minute gap over Jornet. Seemingly unconcerned with his position, Jornet chatted in French with both spectators and volunteers before vanishing into the night. Moving faster and looking stronger over the col than the previous two men, Blanchard continued the chase in third 17 minutes back. Miller and Evans continued to work together to keep the gap manageable.

The gap between Walmsley and Jornet stretched even further to 14 minutes by the sleepy Swiss village of La Fouly, 112 kilometers into the race. Both men were running under course-record pace, and both looked calm and collected. Still running strong into La Fouly, Blanchard kept the leaders within reach.

But Walmsley was committed to stretching the elastic on the field as much as he could, coming through Champex-Lac at 125 kilometers with 13 hours and 40 minutes on the race clock, gaining even more time on the course record and moving strongly. It’s generally a bad idea to bet against Walmsley after he’s put his mind to something, and after a fifth place finish in 2017 and DNF in 2018 and 2021 at UTMB, his commitment to the race and move to Europe to train on the trails seemed to be paying off.

But Walmsley is also known for going out fast and strong, and it doesn’t always stick.One could argue that Jornet was just biding his time, letting Walmsley burn his matches out front. However, there were times around this point in the race where Jornet just plain looked like he was working, enough so that we all began to wonder if the GOAT of trail running would have a crack in his armor today. However, by Trient at 142 kilometers, Jornet had decided to make his move, coming into the aid station in the lead. But instead of seeing Walmsley behind him, it was a surging Blanchard, less than a minute back that Jornet would have to now battle.

It was a long 19 minutes before Walmsley would arrive, appearing to be in discomfort. The dynamic duo of Evans and Miller continued to run together, still holding the gap to the race leader at just over 30 minutes, as they had for much of the race.As the kilometers ticked down, it was indeed a showdown between two men, except it was Blanchard challenging Jornet, with both men coming into Vallorcine at 153 kilometers together, well ahead of the course-record pace.

With Walmsley slowly losing time to the leaders but still in third, eyes moved to Evans who’d finally dropped Miller after nearly a night and a day of racing side by side to see if he could make the pass.By this time, it felt nearly inevitable that Jornet would run to the win and it was no surprise when he came into Tete aux Vents solo looking focused and fast with an 11-kilometer downhill run to the finish. Blanchard never gave up the chase, seven minutes back, while Evans passed a tired but “pumped” Walmsley to slot into third for the first time.

Jornet would finish with a course-record time of 19:49:30, besting both François D’Haene’s 2014 record time (20:11:44) on a course which did not include the Pyramides Calcaires, a gnarly little climb and descent added to the UTMB course a few years back, and Capell’s 2019 time (20:19:09), which did include those extra kilometers.

This is his fourth win at UTMB. Just five minutes back, Blanchard would also come into the finishing chute under the previous course record in second place. An elated Evans rounded out the podium, a stellar finish for his first UTMB.

Walmsley came across the line in fourth, releasing the two DNF monkeys on his back and finishing the next step in his goal of ultimately winning this race someday. Miller, no longer on the comeback trail following surgery and recovery, but fully back, crossed the line in fifth place.

Most of the back half of the men’s top 10 are runners who started slower and bided their time, moving up in the race’s second half, including France’s Beñat Marmissolle, France’s Arthur Joyeux-Bouillon,Jonas Russi of Switzerland, and Romania’s Robert Hajnal. The final member of the men’s top 10, however, is France’s Thibaut Garrivier, who went out hot and looked like he paid for it later, but ultimately holding onto 10th place.