“I’m an ultrarunner,” I said—again—at yet another school function where adults pretend to enjoy lukewarm coffee and make small talk over cheese cubes.
Somewhere between “What grade is your kid in?” and “I think the cheese is gluten-free,” came the inevitable question: “So…what do you do?”
Cue the usual mix of awe, concern and, “Oh no, a fitness person.”
I tried explaining that I’ve spent the last 11+ years as a full-time race director for ultramarathons in St. Louis—which, to most people, sounds like I organize very long, painful ways to spend a weekend. But eventually, I cut to the chase:
“I’m an ultrarunner.”
It’s just easier. And honestly, I say it with more pride than “race director,” even if it makes people quietly question my life choices.
As I floated between PTA warriors and snack table philosophers, one question kept pacing through my mind: What actually makes someone a well-rounded ultrarunner? (Aside from questionable life choices and a concerning affection for chafing.)
Running is the obvious part, but if you really want to wear the “ultrarunner” badge with pride, here’s your real checklist:
Crew Someone: Be the snack-bringer, emotional support human, logistics wizard and master of waiting. Crewing is chaos with a clipboard. You’ll finally understand what others endure while you gallivant through the woods chasing shiny belt buckles.
Pace a Friend: Think unpaid therapist meets motivational liar. You’ll say things like, “It’s all downhill from here,” and “You look strong!” while monitoring bathroom breaks and shoving quesadillas into sweaty hands. Bonus: bacon burritos at the next aid station make excellent bait.
Volunteer at an Ultra: Not just any race: an ultra. Why? Because volunteers are the engine that keeps this wild machine running. Ultras don’t happen just because someone slaps a course together in the woods. They happen because people like you show up.
It’s not just about handing out snacks (though, that’s a perk). It’s about fueling someone else’s finish, meeting fellow dirt-loving weirdos and becoming part of something bigger. Our sport runs on grit, generosity and community. Be part of it.
Trust me, it might just feel better than finishing the race yourself.
Do Trail Work: Trails don’t magically stay runnable and no, the parks department isn’t secretly fixing everything with your tax dollars. Most trail maintenance is done by volunteers: regular people with jobs, families and the same chaotic lives as the rest of us.
These (often non-profit) groups protect the wild places we love to run. So, grab a tool, move some dirt, swing a Pulaski and earn major trail karma. You’ll pick up trail lingo, meet awesome people and maybe even get invited to the trail work cool-kids club.
Bonus: It’s basically cross-training in disguise. Swinging a trimmer? Core workout. Lifting rocks? Functional fitness. Blisters optional, and good vibes guaranteed.
So yes—I’m an ultrarunner.
Not just because I run far, but because I show up for the sport I love.
And if you’re reading this, maybe you do too.