Race Reports

Running from Jacksonville Beach, Florida, to the Ponce Inlet Lighthouse just south of Daytona Beach, the eighth annual Daytona 100 took place December 3–4 along on a fast, flat and scenic ocean road course. Three weeks earlier, damage to this area of northern Florida caused by Hurricane Nicole—following on the heels of Hurricane Ian—triggered enormous stress about whether the race could proceed as planned.

Ultras remind me that the world is such a big and welcoming place, which was the case for Marshall and Heather Ulrich’s inaugural Route 66 Ultrarun. The race consisted of 140 miles across the longest remaining unbroken stretch of Route 66, from Seligman, AZ, to Topock, AZ, finishing at Topock66 on the Colorado River.

From the time runners checked in on Friday to when the music turned off Saturday night, we created something special at Pike Lake. This sacred 24 hours was not by accident; it was a direct product of the event staff, volunteers, park staff and runners—runners who brought their desire to race hard and fast on the technical trails of southern Ohio.

In 2019, I announced that I was recreating the escape route from an iconic 1979 cult film, The Warriors, and that anyone could join me as I as ran over 28 miles in the middle of the night, from the South Bronx to Coney Island, while dressed as a gang member from the film. This year, we held the fourth annual Warriors UltraRun, which featured 90 costumed ultrarunners in one of America’s leading underground races and the only urban chase anywhere in the world.

Running saved Leadville and brought new fire to Chamonix. The new 140-mile Route 66 UltraRun could make a big difference here, too—in the restoration of one of the nation’s most historic routes, and in seeing that it has a future as well as a past. Says RD Marshall Ulrich, “We have to see where we came from so we can move forward.”

Badwater Basin in Death Valley, California, sits at 280 feet below sea level. Each year in July, endurance athletes from all over the world converge to run 135 miles from the start at Badwater to the finish line at the portal of Mt. Whitney (elevation 8,360 feet). Runners traverse three mountain ranges and face numerous other challenges, like scorching desert heat and sleep deprivation, over the course of two nights.

This past June, the top two women and men at the sixth annual Broken Arrow Skyrace 52k in Olympic Valley, California, qualified for the 80k US Trail team competing at the inaugural World Mountain and Trail Running Championships.

Marathon Des Sables (MDS) never shows mercy. I have taken that race for granted a few times and suffered the consequences. There’s always something new to learn. Some of the new things I tried went unexpectedly sideways this year. But hey, it’s all good: I survived and finished. Here is my humble take on a few items.

Climbing up Little Cottonwood Canyon Road out of Cottonwood Heights via Salt Lake City to Snowbird Resort, the Wasatch Mountains dominate the skyline. If you’ve spent any time exploring them on foot, you know just how unforgiving they can be. That’s just why Karl “Speedgoat” Meltzer decided to organize the Speedgoat 50k 15 years ago. 

“She’s making history!” Devon Yanko’s pacer Ellie shouted as Yanko made her way through her last 12.5-mile lap at this year’s Umstead 100 Mile Endurance Race. Yanko came flying into the finish, clocking in at 14:23:13. With this, the 39-year-old seasoned elite became the first woman to win outright in this event’s 27-year history.

The Grandmaster Ultras would be business as usual as far as most ultra events are concerned except, and apologies to younger runners here, you are required to have lived at least half a century in order to participate. Grandmaster, in other words, is where the older generation gets to feel young again and pursue their ultra dreams without all those pesky young runners gumming up the works.

Three years ago, I made a goal that started out as a simple pipe dream. During the fall of 2018, I not only started training for my first 100-mile race, but I also got my skydiving license. Around this time, I heard about a race called the Skydive Ultramarathon. It was then that I told myself I wanted to become the first person to hit their 100th skydive followed by running 100 miles.

Things happen deep in the woods, in the middle of the night, with almost a full day of running on your legs. Rocks grow bigger. Tree trunks sway in your headlamp; they turn and stare. Alone, seeing strange things in the dark, it’s difficult to remember why you picked this journey. But this is The Hawk, and out here people have a way of picking you up and helping you keep moving ahead.

I have come to realize that the true magic moments at Hellgate are indeed the “I have made it this far so that now I may suffer” moments. To have put yourself in a position to really test yourself. Most people don’t ever make it to the beginning of such an exam.

Wacky weather greeted runners on race day with light rain dampening the early miles on this 50-mile loop. Made up of mostly of unpaved fire roads in central Pennsylvania’s Rothrock State Forest, the course received a few rays of sunlight after the rain subsided in the afternoon.

The inaugural Devil’s Gulch 36-miler gave me butterflies, which was a sign that I was in the right place at the right time. As the race began, the first two miles had me unsure of what I had signed up for. However, the next 22 miles would surely change my mind.

All Swiss Alps 100 race distances run along the longest glacier in the Swiss Alps, the 14-mile-long Aletsch glacier, which was declared a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 2001. It’s a true privilege to be there. Along the way, there are three suspension bridges, a big dam, many small villages and even cows to feast your eyes on.

Utah’s mountain weather can be quite variable, but rarely as unpredictable as this year’s run. The Wasatch Range suckered runners into its lair with modest warnings and a beautiful morning. A 30% chance of precipitation was in the forecast: some rain perhaps, maybe some wind thrown in, too. So, what could go wrong?

I’ve never experienced aid stations like those at Twisted Branch. It was as if I had a giant surrogate crew that conveyed care and encouragement which is hard to put into words. Throughout the day, I was filled with a sense of gratitude and camaraderie to an extent I’ve never experienced in a race before, and found myself dedicating segments of my run to the people most important to me.

Within a mile, I was among new friends. Everyone was chatting. Laughing. I looked around and remembered the family of the ultramarathon. These are my people. From that first mile, Ouray didn’t feel like “me versus you.” It was us against the mountain. Us against the weather. Us against our feelings and us against our fatigue. Each one of us won the race we were running. Not every victory is on the podium.

Alaska is fabulous. The Resurrection Pass Ultras showcase the Resurrection Pass area of the Kenai Peninsula south of Anchorage between the towns of Hope in the north and Cooper Landing in the south, which comprises just one tiny corner of the vast miracle that is the state of Alaska. Running the Resurrection Pass 100 was one of the greatest adventures I’ve had in 25 years of ultrarunning.

After nearly a 17-month hiatus, the notoriously competitive Lake Sonoma 50 returned to action this past weekend in Northern California’s renowned Sonoma County. In addition to the traditional 50-miler on Saturday, the race director and owner of Healdsburg Running Company, Skip Brand, recruited Keira Henninger to add a 100k race on Sunday.

Around mile 28 of the High Lonesome 100, when thunder rumbled overhead from slate-gray clouds to the west, a man ahead of me turned back to ask, “What do you think, is it safe to keep going?”

As an autistic runner, running is how I care for myself. The movement is important. My daughter Kala is also autistic with Cerebral Palsy, and I share my self care with her by pushing her in her Chariot. Although, the Galena Sky Trail Race was for me alone, and I had been looking forward to it for months. This is where I belong, and it felt so good.

Cry Me A River! is where resolve goes to die. At least that’s where mine is buried, near mile 44 in the wooded hills north of Peoria, Illinois. The course is relentless, as one hill collapses callously into another and another, ad nauseam. The 100-mile run entails roughly 23,500 feet of vertical gain. A fool’s endeavor.

The inaugural Flower Moon Trail Run was held in Osage Hills State Park, just west of Bartlesville, Oklahoma. Flower Moon is named for the full moon of May and the flowers that bloom during the month. It is also an homage to the history of the area detailed in the great book Killers of the Flower Moon

The Miami 50/50 is an urban adventure race that requires runners to team up with a partner and tackle 50 miles together from start to finish, totally self-supported. To add to the challenge, the course map is unknown prior to race morning. Runners receive course directions every ten or so miles along the way, at designated checkpoints.

Runners returned to Olympic Valley, CA, this past weekend to run the world’s oldest and most iconic 100-mile race. Although the event was canceled in 2020 due to the pandemic, organizers, volunteers and participants didn’t skip a beat this year.

As one of the oldest ultras in Kansas, Rockin’ K has had time to develop a bit of a reputation. After dwindling numbers in the 50-miler, the race organization decided to retire that distance (for now) and introduced the Rockin’ K 50K. Now runners can choose between a “marathon that’s really an ultra,” or they can run an actual ultra.

Runners often describe their KEYS100 race experience as “deceptively hard.” The course is nearly a straight shot along Overseas Highway until you reach Key West, is flat except for a handful of bridges along the way, and there are plenty of opportunities to meet your crew for whatever support you might need. And yet the finishing rate is around 60%.