I ran an ultra marathon!

In 2015, the year I turned thirty, I trained for and raced an iron-distance triathlon. Why? Well, thirty’s that first milestone age where women tend to start in about age, wrinkles, etc. But I didn’t want to focus on that. I was more interested in pushing and celebrating what I can do.

Ten years later with 40 around the corner, I wanted to set another big physical goal. I wasn’t inspired by the iron distance triathlon, having already trained for and completed it. I’d said I’d never do an ultra marathon. I had a perfectly rational explanation: that’s too much running.

You already know where this is going. The ultra laughs last, I guess! Wes ran it, too – here he is hazing me in some way during a training run near Reno over the summer.

When I pictured what I wanted to do in honor of 40, I imagined a really long day on my feet outside. More than just a hike – I wanted to do something extraordinary; something I’d need to work up to in order to fully inhabit. An ultra-marathon, which is technically anything over a marathon (26.2 mile) distance, started to sound like the right fit – especially since at that distance I wouldn’t be running the entire time. I could pick a beautiful course and run/hike a day away, supported by my own training and aid stations/the camaraderie of other runners along the way.

I did my research, consulted ultra-runners in my life, enlisted help from a physical therapist to help me heal through plantar fasciitis, picked my race, and built a training plan. Training started in earnest this past May, after slowly building a base during the first part of the year.

This past Saturday, November 15 I ran my very first 50-mile ultra-marathon on a stunning 7,000 ft elevation gain/loss course through dramatic canyon country in Moab, Utah. It was the most difficult thing I’ve done. I’ve been thinking about why that is, and what I learned.

I started and finished the race with a headlamp (6am-6pm). Amazingly, I finished at EXACTLY 12 hours. I was so deliriously happy to see Wes (photo cred), who finished in 9.5 hours!!!

I trained diligently for the race, but nothing – short of running the full fifty miles prior to race day – could have prepared me for it. Distance training plans don’t typically suggest completing a full race distance prior to the race itself. This is because training is about slowly and strategically building volume through carefully added stress, and race-day volume is only necessary the one time. My training culminated in a 31-mile run, followed the next day by a “brick” 20-mile run.

You’d think this would be enough to experience and adapt to most of the conditions I’d encounter during the fifty-mile duration. And yet.

On race day, I experienced hurdles I hadn’t before: I had two major bouts of full-leg cramping, felt pretty gassed scarily early-on while ensuring I’d make a cut off time at mile 15, I lost my appetite, and I had a very hard time running downhill due to impact (the course was largely slick rock).

I dealt with each of the hurdles by 1) reassuring myself that the moments would pass (advice from an ultra-runner I met at the Escalante Arts Fair; he said: “ride the waves!” and that came into my head multiple times during the race), and 2) invoking my inner-parent-voice to try and tell myself what to do.

For the cramping, I upped my electrolyte and water consumption and popped two vitamin i’s (ibuprofen). Within ten minutes, I felt better – and I continued to consume electrolytes at every aid station.

A euphoric moment, late in the day. Probably around mile ~35. THIS – that I kept going consistently past mile 30 – is how I know my training *did* kick in, even if I felt unprepared for the full distance.

When I felt gassed, I sat down for five minutes at the 15-mile aid station having cleared the most stringent cutoff time, and treated myself to some wipes, new sunscreen, and new snacks. This created a mental (if not physical) reset. I charted my brain to the next aid station 3.5 miles away, vs thinking about the entire distance, and that helped me break up the distance into manageable pieces. I also chatted with other racers periodically along the course, picking up friends for miles-long stretches at the time. This made time fast forward. We encouraged each other.

I was surprisingly selective about music – I only listened to two albums during the entire race (Lord Huron’s Cosmic Selector, and Maribou State’s Hallucinating Love); both after mile 35. Audio is tricky: it can act like a super-booster-awe-inspiring drug, or it can be yet another irritation in a day full of trying to manage/keep irritation at bay. Those albums hit perfectly. I’m glad I didn’t try for more.

For my appetite, I forced myself to eat a little bit roughly every 30 minutes, and when I did feel even a little bit hungry I went for it.

I packed a “drop bag” for myself to leave at miles 15 and 35, with things like sunscreen, extra snacks, wipes, new sneakers/socks, etc. During the race, I consumed 2.5 homemade rice crispy treats, 2 Walking Tamales, a half bag of Haribo brand gummy bears, a fig bar, a cheddar cheese single, most of a fluffernutter (pb & marshmellow) wrap, and a lot of electrolytes.

During the downhill sections midway to later in the race, I walked where I needed to and adjusted my gait, often side hilling to help offset the impact. There were many times where I involuntarily gasped or whooped out loud.

I don’t think there is a healthy way to run fifty miles. Did it feel amazing and euphoric in moments? Of course. I was high – it was literally the least my brain could do to try to kick me into survival gear, given what I was putting myself through.

None of the training distances felt nearly as grueling as the full distance, and I was frankly alarmed and unnerved by some of my post-race symptoms: lots of gunk in my lungs (I did my best to breathe through my nose, but there was lots of dust in the air and I was just breathing hard for the better part of a 12-hour day), incredible soreness and fatigue where I had to lift my legs into the shower the night of, and fully busted toes that have required lots of careful attention this week (and I still haven’t ruled out a visit to the doctor depending on how they feel).

All that said: I do think I and we pulled off the fifty miler in the healthiest way possible. We ate highly nutritious food as our mileage peaked. I got really good at making many variations on potato salad, which is the perfect post-run food: good carbs, fiber, healthy fats, and added protein when I throw in rotisserie chicken, cottage cheese, or tuna (above: an autumn-forward sweet potato, feta, walnut, and pomegranate variety, with parsley).

We rested well. We drank plenty of water. We approached the race with respect, but also good humor. It’s ridiculous that we choose to take on these unnecessary feats, after all. And life is very funny in its futility and absurdity, which is maybe even the core reason that I run. It’s an activity that unnerves, inspires, and exhausts me – it demands that I am very, very present during a life seemingly always on a mission to distract and derail me (notification! meme! fine print! ice cream!). When I’m running, that’s all I’m doing. This makes it both the hardest and, perversely, the easiest and most freeing activity.

That’s what I told myself during the race: today, all you have to do is run.

During the run, particularly later on in the day – past mile 35 or so – I distinctly experienced the moment and knew that it was what I’d wanted to achieve and experience. At moments I started to pre-write my summary of the experience in my mind, but then reminded myself that the race wasn’t even over yet. I was, by and large, able to stay present.

Everyone keeps teasing me that I’m going to turn around and sign up for another fifty mile, or longer distance. I thought I’d want to, too! But in these days after the race, I feel a combination of content, bone-tired, and pretty profoundly humbled. I could easily see myself signing up for a 50K (31 miles) sometime. Right now, though, I am pretty stoked to have all this time back where I can choose to invest in other areas of my life: art, people, strength, other ways of being outside, play.

Wes and me at race start, about 5:50am on Saturday, 11/15/25.

It turns out running fifty miles is, in fact, a lot of running – exactly my protest when asked if I’d ever consider an ultra-marathon. I am SO glad and so grateful I was able to achieve it. And. I think I’ll work on dialing in my half-marathon distance next…once I’ve finished recovering from and reveling in this. It’ll be a minute.