We have finally arrived in Wisconsin at the starting line for the 2018 Kettle Moraine 100 after a long drive from our home in Missouri. For the next 30 hours, we will be crewing for Superman.
Pounding out the last half mile, there was the strange sensation of overwhelming joy and pending loss. Though I didn’t know it then, this would be my last race.
In its best years, the first 15 miles of the JFK 50 are difficult. An unusually wet fall in western Maryland was bound to make conditions on the course even more miserable, especially for those of us in the mid to rear pack. We were not disappointed.
We just needed a couple’s weekend. The last of our three kids left the nest this year, and now they are all in college. Is there a better way to sort out and plan your golden years than with a 7-hour drive to spend 30 hours in nature?
Kostelnick became the first person to complete a self-supported run, without relying on an accompanying support vehicle, from Alaska to Florida.
There’s been a wave of participation in our sport in the last 10-15 years, even in the 60, 70 and 80+ age groups. It’s revealing of both the sport and its participants that it’s possible to stay in the sport and run a 100-miler every year. For decades.
I can run 32 miles. I do that almost every weekend for my training runs. This may sound like an odd thought to be having upon arriving at the mile 68.5 aid station. But before we get to that, a little about me.
Like many spots in Chattanooga, Tennessee, Stringers Ridge is rich in Civil War history. Who knew that 155 years later, this former war zone would host The Cannonball – an annual, last-runner-standing battle.
On November 4, twenty-two runners lined up for Conquer The World (C.T.W.) Endurance’s first annual Fall Back into the Trails 50K, a 10k loop course with roughly 1,000 feet of elevation gain per lap at Red Wing Recreation Area in Lagrangeville, New York.
The Suunto 9 is the next generation in GPS watches geared towards endurance athletes who need extended duration battery life without sacrificing GPS accuracy.
Rather than digesting my race experience, here’s a glimpse into how I got there. Simply toeing the line on race day is an honor, and certainly not a given.
Scheduled just two months after I had hip surgery, Shawnee Hills 100 was going to be my comeback race. I was healed enough and needed a shot of endurance (and confidence) for Superior 100 two weeks later. But was I ready?
“Don’t worry dear, this is the hardest time for everyone,” a volunteer consoled me. “It is?” I fought back tears. The same delicious hot food I’d devoured earlier at Red Wolf aid station now turned my stomach 25 miles later.
Going into Stump Jump 50K this year, there was a bit of apprehension in the air. I was coming back from an injury in the spring. My wife, Emily, also took some time off in the spring but had back-to-back wins here in previous years. And our son Miles hadn’t been training much for the 10-mile event.
The journey to breaking the tape at the Hawk Hundred started with a bit of adversity. For Nicole Fleming of Springfield, Missouri, it was physical—a broken calcaneus (heel bone) threatened to derail her goal of finishing her first 100-mile race in 2018. For Mark Pecaut of Leawood, Kansas, the adversity was psychological.
There was a surpassing amount of unbridled happiness on the trail that weekend, as runners from near and far descended on this scenic jewel along Lake Superior in pursuit of 100-mile, 50-mile or marathon glory.
This year every runner got to experience the clockwise direction of the course, as this was the first time this race didn’t run the familiar counterclockwise route. The race also played host to the USA 50 Mile Road Championships.
The push to get more women outside has never been stronger. Still, being a female athlete in the ultrarunning world, the gender imbalance is obvious. I asked myself, what could one person do to address this issue? The answer came when I decided to momentarily shift my focus from hosting races to create the STL Women’s Trail Summit.
By Sheryl Collmer Everything about the 4th annual Trans-Pecos Ultra 2018 was très bien. Formidable, even. That’s because it was…
I will always closely cherish my flawless race day, incredible experience, my sub-22 hour time, and my mostly accidental win at the Indiana Trail 100.
If I could complete a 33-mile race 25 days after being diagnosed with cancer and nine days before surgery when I am physically fine but feeling raw, fearful and vulnerable, maybe cancer really doesn’t stand a chance.
A fall reprise of the spring Hawkeye 50K, the Hawkeye Fallout 50K is the same race but run counter-clockwise, and in October to take advantage of the fall colors.
The Bear is a masterpiece in ultrarunning – a true point-to-point 100-mile race. With all the trouble the course throws at you, it’s constantly eclipsed by the natural beauty and fall colors of the Rocky Mountains.
This year 300 runners started the race and 187 runners successfully finished. It’s interesting that this year’s finishing rate is the lowest in years.
When I saw the pictures and videos of the Never Summer 100K race, I knew I had to run there. Every year I like to run a destination race somewhere beautiful. Never Summer in remote mountains of Northern Colorado captivated me with its stunning beauty, and became my epic ultra for 2018.
When the race weekend kicks off with pizza and bluegrass, you know you’ve come to the right place.
I started running less than two years ago shortly after my 49th birthday, and being diagnosed with hypertension and borderline diabetes. I lost both breasts to cancer in 2015 and was told I’d need eight more operations. By 2016, I had enough of being unhealthy and overweight, so I decided that life had to change.
Yeti Snakebite is put on by Jason Green, a punk-rock-loving skateboarder who decided to start his own trail army, the Yeti Trail Runners. Race information is sparse, curse words are prolific and if Fireball and vodka-soaked pickles at aid stations offend your senses, his races are not for you.
My contribution to the Marquette 50 has definitely become less as the years have gone by, and now my children take great pride in helping with “Dad’s Race.”
This was by far the toughest 100-miler I’ve ever been in, but I was more determined than ever to finish. I’m grateful to my friends, fellow runners, and volunteers that got me there.