The summer, I read about the West to deepen my understanding of Colorado, California and states in between—their history, culture, politics and myriad pressures. Rest assured, these books are good reads.

The summer, I read about the West to deepen my understanding of Colorado, California and states in between—their history, culture, politics and myriad pressures. Rest assured, these books are good reads.
I spent ten months coaching two clients for the Grand to Grand Ultra and the Atacama Crossing. Here’s the outline of their training plans, and their stories of what the events were like, to show how to meet the myriad challenges of an ultra-long stage race—and, perhaps, to inspire your new year’s goals.
After several mornings in a row under the covers with that novel, it hit me: This is what post-100-mile-ultra, midlife, empty-nesting transition feels like.
I hated the logic that I wanted to cover 100 miles so I could be done with 100 miles because I didn’t actually want to do the full 100 miles. Ugh, none of it made any sense.
The person who trained assiduously, whose every workout had a purpose and goal attained, who meticulously planned every piece of gear—that seems like another person, and she’s not here now.
A tribute to a trio of relatives—my grandmother, grandfather and great-uncle—who challenged themselves in the San Juan Mountains in mind-blowing ways that inspire me as a mountain runner.
Words of wisdom from a panel discussion, plus some of my thoughts on this year’s Hardrock and its female field.
I can’t recall how or why we started the new year with the “see ya Tuesday at 9 at the lake”—two ultra-distance trail runners meeting midweek for a paved, flat, easy loop. I needed a friend, a counselor, a reminder of the best, most humorous and resilient sides of the human spirit. Each Tuesday, we […]
Perhaps my fondest memory of the Mauna to Mauna Ultra was the experience of the oxymoronic “friendly competition” in the best, truest sense.
It behooves competitors to carry as little as possible, because every pound of weight slows us down and saps energy. But, given the climate and terrain variability, I can’t go too light or get too hungry.