Ultramarathons

Ghost Train Rail Trail Race 30-Hour Ultramarathon – Race Report

TRR Coach Allie Smith after finishing the Ghost Train Rail Trail Race 30-Mile Ultramarathon.
TRR Coach Allie Smith after finishing the Ghost Train Rail Trail Race 30-Mile Ultramarathon.

Race: Ghost Train Rail Trail Race: 30-Hour Ultramarathon

Runner: TRR Coach Allie Smith

Race Date: 10/18/2025

Location: Brookline, NH

Result:  45.017 miles in 16:56:19

3 Bests – What aspects of the race did you like the most?
  1. Festive: Halloween themed
  2. Timed race: I did the 30-hour version of the Ghost Train Rail Trail Race, removing any time cut-off pressure. Given the race directors knew how long runners would be on course, alongside the looped course, aid station snacks were refreshed throughout.
  3. Looped course: This allowed for the start/finish to be the central hub for all runners/volunteers/pacers/tents, and was easily accessible.
Not so much – Aspects of the race that didn’t do it for you
  1. Loop length: the 15-mile laps made it difficult to make any adjustments on-course.
  2. Night temperature: while fine for running, the low temperatures were chilly for camping overnight and anyone not running.
Weird factor – What’s the weirdest thing about this race?
There were a lot of Ghost Train Rail Trail Race runners dressed in Halloween costumes!
Highlights of your race – What did you do well and enjoy about your race in particular?

After struggling with GI issues and blisters after the second lap (miles 15 to 30), I wasn’t sure if I would be able to continue on for a third lap at night. I did a full reset and rested for a while before heading back out. This was my first time running into the night, and handled it with no caffeine and limited calories due to my stomach issues. Overall, I’m happy I did persevere! The result: setting a new distance PR during this race!

Lessons for others – Share your pro-tips on the race to help the next runner

A few tips for runners considering this race:

  1. October nights in New England can get VERY cold; therefore, it’s important to pack enough layers for running AND sleeping!
  2. Even in lower temperatures, hydration is still very important to stay on top of. Don’t be fooled by the lack of sweat!
  3. Talk to other runners. The looped course is conducive to chatting to other runners, and this makes the time go by very quickly.
    Lessons you learned that will help you next time around

    1. Stay on top of hydration.
    2. Take care of feet early!

    There’s no going back on these two things: once they start to go south, they’ll more than likely keeping going south.

    Most important course specific knowledge to know about the race

    1. The Ghost Train Rail Trail Race course is mostly hard-packed, rail-trail type terrain with a little bit of New England trail running mixed in.
    2. The 4 mile aid station and 7 mile turnaround aid station are fully stocked with bathrooms.

    Aesthetics – Is it a pretty course?

    The race takes place in the fall, with some beautiful foliage and fun decorations throughout!

    Difficulty – Is it a tough course?

    No, it is a relatively flat and very well marked course.

    Organized and well run – Did it feel like a well-oiled machine or were they flying by the seat of their pants?

    Very well run! From the race director to each volunteer, everyone involved in the Ghost Train Rail Trail Race were amazing!

    Halloween-themed Ghost Train Rail Trail Race on-course decorations.
    Halloween-themed Ghost Train Rail Trail Race on-course decorations.
    Competition – Is there a strong field?

    Competition was not the main point of focus of Ghost Train Rail Trail Races, especially in the 30-hour event. The focus is more on completion.

    Logistics – Does it require a special handshake, registration a year in advance, hotels all booked? Give us the low down on the nuts and bolts of making the race happen.

    Registration was VERY competitive. For example, the 30-hour Ghost Train Rail Trail Race sold out in about 2 minutes! Fortunately, there are several different Ghost Train Rail Trail Race distance options.

    Aid Stations – Standard fare or anything special to know about the aid stations in terms of what’s available or when?

    Aid stations had plenty of snacks and sodas, with Tailwind as the endurance fuel option. The halfway aid station had a lot of homemade goodies and plenty of hot food!

    Halloween-themed fun along the Ghost Train Rail Trail Race course.
    Halloween-themed fun along the Ghost Train Rail Trail Race course.
    Weather and typical race conditions

    The Ghost Train Rail Trail Race happens during fall in New England, so can vary drastically. This year, it got quite cold during the night. Be prepared for everything, especially the worst!

    Gear – Did you need anything special or is there anything you’d recommend for the next runner?

    I definitely would recommend a good headlamp, as it can get super dark.

    Spectators – Is this a friendly course for your friends?

    Friends are able to hang out at the start/finish area, and pacers are allowed during the night portion.

    How’s the Swag?

    There is a wooden train ornament for finishers, as well as a PR star.

    The Overall Score – How many stars do you give this race and do you recommend that others run it?

    I would DEFINITELY recommend any of the Ghost Train Rail Trail Race events to others!!! It’s festive and fun, great weather (at least in 2025 there was!), a lot of aid station food and bathrooms, and very well run. Above all, it’s a great format to go for distance PR’s and to chat with other runners.

    Allie Smith is a coach with Team RunRun based in Gloucester, MA. She enjoys helping the everyday athlete have fun, build confidence, and fall in love with running!

    UTMB (Ultra-Trail du Mont-Blanc) Race Report

    Race: UTMB (Ultra-Trail du Mont-Blanc)

    TRR Founder and Coach Matt Urbanski at the UTMB 108-mile race in Chamonix, France.
    TRR Founder and Coach Matt Urbanski at the UTMB 108-mile race in Chamonix, France.

    Runner: Matt Urbanski (Team RunRun founder and coach)

    Race Date: 08/29/2025

    Location: Chamonix, France

    Result: 29:55:38, 170th out of 1665

    Strava link: https://www.strava.com/activities/15645195041

    What aspects of the race did you like the most?

    I just love the racing environment of UTMB. They organize it so well, the energy is amazing, and the setting is absolutely epic. I have run this race three times, and I want to keep coming back!!

    I also love that after having been in the trail running community for so many years, I can go to this race and see so many people I know from all around the world!

    Not so much – Aspects of the race that didn’t do it for you

    The start. I’m just outside of the “elite” category so I don’t get a spot near the front of the race. Two years ago when I raced, I got there more than an hour before the start and sat out in the sun waiting. This year, I got there 30 minutes before and was in the middle of the crowd. It took me 2 minutes to push/get pushed to the start line, and then we walked out of town. I wasn’t feeling super competitive this year, but walking slowly amid tons of runners with selfie-sticks, rather than running this nice flat part of the course was frustrating. I think they need to have corrals based on bib numbers (which are based on UTMB Index ranking).

    Weird factor – What’s the weirdest thing about this race?
    I’m still a bit in awe at all the deli meat and cheese available at the aid stations. They don’t have gels, and the overall food selection is noticeably different from US ultras. I basically lived on Naak waffles and Naak sports drink for 30 hours!
    Highlights of your race – What did you do well and enjoy about your race in particular?
    Matt at the finish line, greeted by TRR athlete and star crew, Jose Medina!
    Matt at the finish line of UTMB, greeted by TRR athlete and star crew, Jose Medina!

    I got out of trouble. I made a really big error on the climb to Col du Bonhomme: I didn’t layer up for the weather. It was raining, and I had on my rain jacket and rain mitts, but I didn’t put on more layers. By the time it was windy and snowing up high (at 2am!), and I knew I needed to get warm fast, my hands were too cold to function. I couldn’t get my vest off, let alone get it open, in order to get more warm layers out. Thankfully, they had a warming hut open at the top. It looked brutal in there with people shivering, crying, and just in total disarray – I was one of them, shaking violently for 30+ minutes.

    I am proud that I eventually regrouped, got warm enough, got my gear on properly, and carried on to finish the race. But there was a brief period before that warming hut (which I didn’t know would be open to us!) where I was scared for my life, more than any other running event I’ve ever been in. But I got out of trouble and UTMB!

    Lessons for others – Share your pro-tips on the race to help the next runner
    1. Get good at downhill running. There is so much downhill! Get good at running fast on steep long descents. That is a huge advantage.
    2. Be fit. The stronger a runner you are, the better you’ll do on the climbs and the various runnable sections.
    3. Know your gear. There’s a big required gear list, and while you might think it’s overkill, I needed all (well, almost all!) of it this year. Practice with it, know where it is in your pack, and be quick to use it! In training, simply practicing running with the weight of it all will be a big benefit, even if you never need to get into it!
    4. Relax and smile. It’s a really long race, and it’s really easy to get caught up early in the competition. Slap hands in St. Gervais and Les Contamines, soak in that crazy tunnel of people at the start of the big Col du Bonhomme climb. And then stay focused: it’s a long, long race!
    Lessons you learned that will help you next time around

    In future, I’ll be way quicker to get my cold gear on at any race where it might be getting cold!

    It’s way more fun to be fit! I didn’t train well for UTMB this year. I was able to get by with good power hiking on the long climbs, and good descending skills. But it’s just a better race when you’re well prepared.

    UTMB 108.1-mile race course map.
    UTMB 108.1-mile race course map.
    Most important course specific knowledge to know about the race

    The last big section from Col des Montets to La Flégère is tough! You’re met with steep, big rocks, an up-and-down and then another long up, before you finally get to the last big up, which is a ski slope. It’s plain tough at this point in the race, so be ready for it!

    Also, to me, that climb out of Trient is just a beast! So steep for so long!

    Lastly, the rocky climb once you’re out of Champex-Lac is a pain. There are so many big rocks that it’s tough to find a rhythm (plus, I had my own special suffering going on through that section which didn’t help!).

    Aesthetics – Is it a pretty course?

    UTMB is one of the prettiest courses I know of. I just LOVE racing in Chamonix!

    Difficulty – Is it a tough course?

    Yes! With a 46.5-hour cutoff to cover 108 miles and over 32,000 feet of vert, it’s an awesomely difficult race!

    UTMB elevation chart with the main climbs labelled.
    UTMB elevation chart with the main climbs labelled.
    Organized and well run – Did it feel like a well-oiled machine or were they flying by the seat of their pants?

    YES! The best in the world. While the buses and the start still need work, UTMB is the best run race out there.

    Competition – Is there a strong field?

    YES! Again, the best!

    Logistics – Does it require a special handshake, registration a year in advance, hotels all booked? Give us the low down on the nuts and bolts of making the race happen.
    Matt meeting his crew at an aid station to refuel during UTMB.
    Matt meeting his crew at an aid station to refuel during UTMB.

    Know the game with the UTMB stones and the qualifying system. It’s not that tough to get into (as of 2025) – certainly not as hard as some people make it out to be! I got in with 4 stones via the lottery in my first attempt.

    Lodging is expensive in Chamonix now. Be ready to pay up. But it’s such a great town and we love visiting each year!

    Aid Stations – Standard fare or anything special to know about the aid stations in terms of what’s available or when?

    If you like Euro-style aid stations, you’re good to go. Meat, cheese, bread… But for me (vegan), there isn’t much. I had gels ready at the 5 crew stops, along with Skratch carbohydrate and electrolyte drink. Otherwise, I relied on Naak waffles (cut into 1/4s – I grabbed 4-6 of them each at aid station) and Naak sports drink. I picked up some veggie broth a couple times too, but it was so hot that it took forever to drink, so I didn’t stick with that.

    The hype and energy of the aid stations is awesome though!

    Be warned: Les Contamines’ aid station is an absolute shit show! It’s so busy and so crazy with people because the race hasn’t spread out yet. It’s hard to find your crew, and they won’t even be allowed into the tent area until they know you’re close. Be ready for chaos there!

    Weather and typical race conditions

    It can be hot, it can snow, it can be everything in between. They have a hot weather required kit and a cold weather one – I’ve had both activated during my 3 times running this race. Be ready for anything!

    Gear – Did you need anything special or is there anything you’d recommend for the next runner?

    There is a HUGE required gear list for UTMB. I know it’s expensive, but it’s worth spending time and money to get high quality stuff. Once you have the good gear, make sure you know how to use it! Practice running with the gear in training too. Take the required gear list seriously: they do check it at couple aid stations throughout the race. This year, I had to show my 3 upper layers (cold weather year) and my emergency blanket.

    Spectators – Is this a friendly course for your friends?

    Yes and no. There are tons of spectators on course and it’s awesome! But it’s tough to get around as a spectator. All crew and spectators had to buy bus passes by early July this year (I didn’t do that!). Fortunately, I was able to secure passes for my crew in the final days before the race, but only for them, no one else. It’s a bit pricey for bus passes too, but my crew had a blast with it all. Summary: there are tons of people on course, but it’s also tough to get around, so plan ahead.

    Runners on course during UTMB. PC: Pascal Tournaire/UTMB
    Runners on course during UTMB. PC: Pascal Tournaire/UTMB
    How’s the Swag?

    It’s lean: finisher vest only, no medals. People come for the race, not the swag. The t-shirt was sized large this year. The men’s small was too big for me. 🙁

    The Overall Score – How many stars do you give this race and do you recommend that others run it?

    10 out of 10! I love UTMB, and I will want to do it again (even though I said – multiple times – I was done with ultras mid-race!)!!

    Matt Urbanski is the founder of Team RunRun, as well as a coach. He enjoys coaching self-motivated runners to optimize training time, push limits, transition to ultras, podium, BQ, and other big challenges!

    My Cancer-Filled Ultramarathon: Part 4

    This is part 4 of a multipart blog series about one Team RunRunner’s, Vincent Rossi, cancer-filled ultramarathon. Catch up on part 1, part 2, and part 3.

    Beyond Me: Running for the Bladder Cancer Advocacy Network (BCAN)

    Vincent running the Rocky 50 ultramarathon.
    Vincent running the Rocky 50 ultramarathon.

    Throughout my cancer journey, the Bladder Cancer Advocacy Network (BCAN) has been a great resource; in particular, their message boards allowed me to connect with other bladder cancer patients and receive valuable advice. As I learned and gained experience, I tried my best to help others facing a new cancer diagnosis too. I made strong connections with patients through BCAN’s resources, some of whom have become real and meaningful friends. So before the race, I contacted the team at BCAN to set up a “DIY fundraising page”, which I began sharing with friends and family.

    While I was thankful to see donations come in before the race, this also made me nervous. I wanted to do my part and finish this race—not just to support BCAN, but to achieve this crazy bucket list goal for myself, and to show my family and children what determination and strength look like. In many ways, the cancer community felt a lot like the ultrarunning community, where friendships and strong bonds formed quickly.

    The Final Three Miles: Snakes, Surprises, Strength

    With three miles to go, my wife and I reached a stretch of flat, open trail from where we could hear music from the finish area. I could not believe it. “Am I really going to do this?” I thought. I was ecstatic, though also delirious.

    It was fully dark now. My wife kept the pace while my eyes stayed fixed on the reflective strips on the back of her running shoes, lit by my headlamp. At one point, my focus glued to her feet moving down the trail, I saw her step on something. “A snake!” I yelled. She looked back, before marching on as if this was normal. Still delirious, I later told her that she had stepped on a venomous copperhead. In hindsight, this felt symbolic—my wife leading me through a dark forest, stepping on threats, driving me to the ER, holding my hand as I woke from a surgery that carried, on average, a 10 percent mortality rate. Together, my wife and I have shared this cancer-filled ultramarathon, and the end wasn’t in sight yet. We kept pushing forward.

    Amazingly, we passed at least eight runners in the last three miles, each one a source of energy and motivation to keep going. Many were much younger than me, a 51-year old man holding on tightly; I felt both surprised and proud. The finish line was in sight. This was it, the last part. “Holy shit, we are going to do it!” I thought. As we neared the finish line, despite my delirium and exhaustion, I raised my hand, and my wife high-fived me. It was 9:00 pm and, despite the fact that I was among the final finishers, music was blaring, people were cheering, and the finish line vibes were high!

    Vincent's Rocky 50 ultramarathon finisher medal.
    Vincent’s Rocky 50 ultramarathon finisher medal.

    I Am An Ultramarathoner! (…and my body knows it!)

    I crossed the finish line and high-fived the race director. Humorously, a kind volunteer reminded me to stop my watch: the Strava gods rejoiced! I was presented with a Rocky 50 finisher medal and put it around my neck. I just could not believe it: I had finished, I was an ultramarathoner. Then, with all the energy I could muster, I walked to our crew blanket and collapsed. 

    My wife, a superhero, packed our rental car with coolers, food, and race supplies as I laid on the ground totally exhausted. We picked up our drop bags and drove back to the hotel. Getting out of the car and limping to our hotel room felt like another ultramarathon, this one rewarded with a long, hot bath.

    Post Race Reflections

    That night, in the bathtub, I thought about the day’s events. I thought about the last four years of this difficult journey. I was filled with gratitude for my wife, the rock of our family, who kept me going. She made sure dinners were ready while I recovered from chemo, surgery, the difficult treatments, and the side effects of cancer. 

    The phrase “run the mile that you are in” became a deep understanding. Beyond what I had done during the race, it was what I had done through my entire cancer journey. It was what my wife was doing every day, coping with the constant stress of this horrible disease. It was what all my cancer friends were doing. Despite tough and awful situations, each of us was running the mile we were in: that was all any of us can do when facing seemingly impossible challenges. Over time, the miles–literally and metaphorically–carve a path through the dark forest of doubt and hopelessness. Tears ran down my face as I lay in the tub with sore and bleeding legs, this deep understanding washing over me.

    Waffles at the hotel post race.
    Waffles at the hotel post race.

    Our Cancer-Filled Ultramarathon 

    On Sunday, waiting for our flight back to D.C., I wrote a race report thanking everyone who donated to my Bladder Cancer Advocacy Network fundraiser. I was incredibly grateful for both their donations to BCAN, and the encouragement and belief they showed me. When the race seemed impossible, I persevered through the heat, pain, and endless miles to reach the finish line, fueled by their support.

    I was also very thankful for this new ultrarunning community I found. From the aid station crews who encouraged me and opened my Skratch electrolyte packets when my fingers were too swollen, to Chris’s kindness in traveling to Huntsville to meet a stranger and race with him, and of course, my wife, who paced me. I know I would not have finished if she had not been there.

    Final Thoughts and Transferable Takeaways 

    As I get ready for my next surgery and the continuation of my cancer-filled ultramarathon, I will remember this mantra. I will remember the support from the ultramarathon community and the Bladder Cancer Advocacy Network. And I suggest that when things get hard, when they feel impossible and you cannot take another step, you do your best, put one foot in front of the other, and run the mile you are in.

    About Vincent

    Vincent Rossi is a father, husband, cancer survivor, and newly minted ultramarathoner! Check out Vincent’s website and Instagram @gnocchi_dinner. He continues to fundraise for the Bladder Cancer Advocacy Network (BCAN). Take a look at Vincent’s BCAN fundraising page here. 

    My Cancer-Filled Ultramarathon: Part 3

    This is part 3 of a multipart blog series about one Team RunRunner’s, Vincent Rossi, cancer-filled ultramarathon. Catch up on part 1 and part 2. 

    The physical startline of Vincent's cancer-filled ultramarathon at the Rocky 50. PC: Let's Wander Photography
    The physical startline of Vincent’s cancer-filled ultramarathon at the Rocky 50. PC: Let’s Wander Photography

    The First Lap: A Challenge From Step One

    Right from the start, this race was hard. My training leading up to the Rocky 50 had been entirely on the flat streets of Washington, D.C., and I had almost no trail running experience. Running with Chris the first five miles was invaluable. He taught me the power hike method for hills that I had read about, but never practiced. 

    Immediately, the hills took their toll, as did the heat. As a total newcomer to trail running, the most challenging part was the uneven ground and the tree roots. Oh, the tree roots. The Rocky Raccoon races are known for large pine tree roots on the trail: traps for tired runners. About 10 miles in, I tripped on a root and landed hard. The wind was knocked out of me. “Holy shit,” I thought. “Ok, my first fall.” I told myself iIt was part of the race, and then got up, brushed myself off, and started running again. It must have looked bad because runners around me stopped to check on me. “I’m good!” I yelled, stunned but not hurt. 

    Blood, Sweat, and Pee

    Later in loop one, I stopped to pee and saw I was already peeing blood. It was a lot—my urine was dark red and thick. This blood was not from running; it began before the race: a sign that the cancer had spread to my kidneys. This, plus my abbreviated training build to this race, made understanding my fluid losses and hydration needs impossible. My right kidney ached: my cancer-filled ultramarathon continued. That was the area surgeons would soon inspect, and then possibly remove. I put thoughts of cancer aside and kept running.

    Runner navigating lots of tree roots on the Rocky 50 ultramarathon course.
    Runner navigating lots of tree roots on the Rocky 50 ultramarathon course.

    At the end of the first loop, I had run 16.7 miles. In training, 16 miles was normal for me. I had been running about 50 miles per week. But this was different. The heat, hills, and uneven ground left me completely exhausted. “Oh fuck,” I thought. Finishing felt impossible after that first lap. I had promised myself I would not quit. I would push myself as far as possible, no matter what.

    Before the race, Chris, who seemed worried he had gotten me into a dangerous situation, said, “Hey man, if you feel like you are hurting yourself, it’s just not worth it.” With my cancer history and new diagnosis, I knew today was my only chance. My future was uncertain, so I would push hard. I thought, “Hell, to die during an ultra would be more badass than dying on fentanyl in a hospital bed.” I smiled at Chris and said, “I think I am ready to do hard things.” Chris smiled nervously back. Two more 16.7-mile loops to go.

    Lap Two: “Run the Mile You Are In”

    Lap two was brutal. I had told my coach I wanted to suffer, and there’s no doubt my wish was granted! Despite refilling my ice bandana at each aid station, the Texas heat meant it quickly became a wet rag. I fell two more times, each time so suddenly and hard I did not even catch myself. One moment I was running, the next I was on the ground. 

    I chose not to show my mileage on my running watch; ultramarathon math would not help me right now! I feared that constantly seeing how much distance was left—like 40, 30, or 20 miles to go—would make me lose the mental battle, which I knew was key to staying in the race.

    On the flight to Texas, I listened to an ultrarunning audiobook. The author warned about the dangers of ultrarunning math, instead advising runners to simply “run the mile that you are in.” Thinking about running another 30 miles could have broken me easily. During the second lap, this advice came to mind and became my race mantra. I felt a large blister on my right foot from sand in my shoe, but I was too tired to stop and empty it. “Run the mile that you are in,” I thought. My quad muscles began to shake with intense pain. For a moment, I thought, “How can I keep going for another 30 miles?” The mantra returned: “Run the mile you are in.”

    Cancer, Caution, and Crew Stations

    By the end of the second lap, I reached my crew station where my wife had my race vest ready and waiting. She had packed it with gels, trail mix, salt tablets, and hydration powder for my final lap. The first two laps were so hot that I had opted to run with a belt instead of a vest. 

    As I approached, my wife immediately saw I was in trouble. Due to cancer treatments, I had lost the ability to sweat and control my body temperature. For me, 83 degrees Fahrenheit felt like 120! I walked up to the five-gallon ice bucket my wife had also prepared, and put my arms in the ice water, trying to recover from near heat stroke. Chris was there and decided to stop after two laps and about 55 miles, since his main race, the Umstead 100, was coming up. Wisely, he did not want to hurt his performance. 

    Rocky 50 ultramarathon aid station.
    Rocky 50 ultramarathon aid station.

    I was a zombie. Chris talked to me and gave advice, but I do not think I heard anything he said. I struggled to stand. From what I had read about ultras, I knew sitting down was not a good idea. Finishing the second lap meant I had officially run an ultramarathon–beyond the 26.2 mile (42K) marathon distance. But my goal was 50 miles, not 33.4. 

    As if Rocky 50 wasn’t already challenging enough, then the nausea hit. I removed a handful of gels from my vest, knowing that if I ate one more, I would throw up. From then on, I would only drink water. I managed to give Chris what might have looked like a smile, unable to speak, and a fist bump on my way out.

    Rocky 50 race bibs: "43" for Vincent, "pacer" for his wife.
    Rocky 50 race bibs: “43” for Vincent, “pacer” for his wife.

    The Final Lap

    The third lap started. I had no idea how I would get through the next 16.7 miles. As we began, some of the 50K finishers clapped as I went back on the course. Race rules allowed a pacer for the last lap, and my wife joined me—she was my savior. She did the ultramarathon math for me and tried her best to keep me moving at a pace to finish. Before the race, our plan was for me to speed up on the last lap, maybe run a 9:30-minute mile. Now in real time, the thought of running that fast would have been funny if I was not so scared. My wife ran far ahead, then looked back to see me limping. “Oh man, I am in trouble,” I thought.

    At one point, I sat to tie my shoe. An abdominal muscle cramped so badly the pain was unbearable. I screamed, surprising myself. My wife looked at me, very worried, but I got up and kept going. She knew the plan: keep me moving no matter what. “Run the mile that you are in,” I thought again. 

    It’s Me Against the Clock 

    Near the end of the last lap, with four miles to go, I started to believe I could finish this cancer-filled ultramarathon. But I did not want to get too confident. If my pace slowed or I fell again, I could miss the cutoff time. As we walked up a steep hill, my wife checked her watch. She turned to me and said, “Okay, we need to pick it up now.” Her tone scared me, though not as much as the thought of a DNF (did not finish). I had come so far, endured so much: it was now or never.

    I dug deep, trying my best to keep up with my wife. She was jogging at a slow 12-minute mile pace, but for me, it felt like a sprint. My legs were completely raw, and both my feet were bleeding. But for a moment, the thought of crossing that finish line gave me goosebumps. Despite the pain, I felt a fleeting giddiness. I smiled through this new kind of pain.

    About Vincent

    Vincent Rossi is a father, husband, cancer survivor, and newly minted ultramarathoner! Check out Vincent’s website and Instagram @gnocchi_dinner. He continues to fundraise for the Bladder Cancer Advocacy Network (BCAN). Take a look at Vincent’s BCAN fundraising page here. 

    Part 4 of My Cancer-Filled Ultramarathon will be released soon.

    My Cancer-Filled Ultramarathon: Part 2

    This is part 2 of a multipart blog series about one Team Runner’s, Vincent Rossi, cancer-filled ultramarathon. Catch up on part 1 here. 

    Vincent Rossi (white shirt) beginning the Rocky 50.
    Vincent Rossi (white shirt) beginning the Rocky 50.

    An Unexpected Turn

    Only two weeks after my Philadelphia Marathon finish, and already planning to run 50 miles, I received unexpected news from a medical test. The result read: “Suspicious for high-grade urothelial carcinoma.” Despite being used to cancer stress by now, I felt awful. Surgery to check my kidneys for cancer was quickly scheduled.

    This was a major setback, but after several dark days, I decided to rally. I texted my TRR Coach, Brant Stachel, to explain the situation, but mostly to ask how soon I could realistically attempt to finish an ultramarathon. He said I needed at least 12 weeks of specific, more intense training, the high [injury] risk, high reward type. I started training right away.

    My original goal had been to complete the Crested Butte Ultra 50 mile in Colorado; a race taking place in September of 2025. However, with surgery on the horizon, I needed a race sooner, much sooner.

    From Reddit to Rocky 50

    Waiting until after the kidney surgery, or ureteroscopy, was not an option because I knew how fast things could get worse depending on the results.  At that time, I had a false diagnosis of Stage 4 colorectal cancer, later found to be a return of my bladder cancer in the kidneys.

    So, on impulse, I posted on the r/ultramarathon subreddit for help finding a suitable race. I wrote about my cancer’s return and my ultramarathon goal. As a first time poster, albeit a long-time consumer, I was surprised my Reddit post received the attention it did. Soon, I had over 100 responses from Redditors suggesting races across the U.S. and worldwide. I was amazed by the supportive messages, including several Redditors offering to race or pace with me. After reading many ultra stories, I thought, “This community is amazing.” A Redditor in San Antonio, Texas, recommended the Rocky 50-mile race taking place in Texas in February, 2025.

    Rocky 50 course map.
    Rocky 50 course map.

    Rocky 50: The Build-Up

    My new Redditor friend, Chris from San Antonio, offered to do the race with me. “LFG go!” I replied on the r/ultramarathon thread. The plan was set for my cancer-filled ultramarathon: I would race the Rocky 50.

    Rocky 50 was a course good for beginners: non-technical and, by trail running standards, pretty flat with only ~2,700 feet of elevation gain and equal loss. The course consisted of three identical 16.7-mile loops around a large lake in Huntsville, Texas, with a time cutoff of 14 hours and 30 minutes. My wife would crew me on every loop. I had no prior trail running, or trail aid station, experience, so frequent access to her crew station would be very helpful. 

    Past weather data for February in Huntsville predicted temperatures between 40-50 degrees Fahrenheit: perfect, I thought. My cancer treatments have made me very sensitive to heat, thus the cooler weather was a big reason I chose this event. Unfortunately, as the race date got closer, bad news came; weather reports predicted 83 degrees! I remembered running the Georgetown Half Marathon in 75-degree weather a few months before and almost passing out at the finish. “How can I run in 83-degree weather?” I thought. “And run 50 miles?!” All I could do was hope and pray that the weather would change at the last minute, but, alas, the forecasts held. 

    Chris texted that with this unusual heat, I might want to find another race. But my plane tickets were bought, hotel rooms booked, and the course researched. For me, this race was happening. With my surgery date scheduled, there was no Plan B. 83-degree temperatures or not, Rocky 50 was my race.

    Vincent's Rocky 50 drop bags.
    Vincent’s Rocky 50 drop bags.

    Rocky 50: Race Day!

    Fast forward to February 8th and race day was here! Having flown into San Antonio the day before, my wife and I prepared as well as we could within the confines of our hotel room. We carefully packed drop bags with gels, salt tablets, ice packs, ginger chews for nausea, and body lube. Early on race morning, we dropped these bags at the three aid stations and headed to the start. 

    It was 6:30 am and the temperature was already 73 degrees! My brow was sweating simply standing around, well before the race began. As we set up a small beach blanket, a cooler with ice, and a folding chair for my wife, I met Chris for the first time. We shook hands and introduced ourselves face-to-face. It was good to meet him. He was friendly and had gone to the effort of driving four hours from his home to the race venue. Through calls and texts, I knew Chris had been preparing. Now, in person, he gave me some last minute advice. “You ran a 4:18 marathon. You can finish this race,” Chris said. I was not so sure. The heat was already affecting me, and, as a result, I was very nervous.

    About Vincent

    Vincent Rossi is a father, husband, cancer survivor, and newly minted ultramarathoner! Check out Vincent’s website and Instagram @gnocchi_dinner. He continues to fundraise for the Bladder Cancer Advocacy Network (BCAN). Take a look at Vincent’s BCAN fundraising page here. 

    Part 3 of My Cancer-Filled Ultramarathon will be released soon. 

    My Cancer-Filled Ultramarathon: Part 1

    This is part 1 of a multipart blog series about one Team Runner’s, Vincent Rossi, cancer-filled ultramarathon. 

    Vincent Rossi running the Philadelphia Marathon in 2024.
    Vincent Rossi running the Philadelphia Marathon in 2024.

    Setting the Stage: Not Your Typical Ultrarunner

    I awoke to the sound of my cell phone’s alarm going off. I picked up my phone, and with blurry eyes, I saw that it was 4:00 a.m. As I slowly rose, I looked around the hotel room and reoriented myself. I was filled with excitement but also a huge amount of trepidation. “How do I get myself into these situations?” I thought to myself. I walked to the restroom, hopeful that I could take a dump. Emptying the bowels was essential to a successful race.

    This particular morning, I was preparing to run the Rocky Raccoon 50-mile race. I had originally planned to take a full 12 months to train for an ultramarathon, but now found myself lining up to race far ahead of schedule. In November of 2024, I completed the Philadelphia Marathon in 4 hours and 18 minutes, and it was not long ago that this achievement would have been unthinkable in and of itself.

    Far from your typical ultrarunner, my running journey did not begin until fairly recently, when I was 48 years old. My wife took up running during the pandemic, and I, mostly out of boredom, followed suit. If I am honest, the idea of me running felt novel and even a little absurd. Also absurd, at the time, would have been the thought that I had both colorectal and urothelial cancers.

    When Running Met Cancer

    During my first Bacillus Calmette-Guérin (BCG) treatment for bladder cancer—which involved having immunotherapy solution pumped into my bladder through a catheter while I was wide awake—my nurse had a picture of herself running the Rock ‘n’ Roll Washington DC Half Marathon hanging on her office wall. “Wow,” I thought, “running 13.1 miles, that seems impossible.” I then nervously braced for my first catheterization and bladder cancer treatment, not knowing there would be many more to come.

    As with most runners, it started with several 5K races, then a few 10-milers, culminating in my wife and I running a half marathon in Colorado, as well as the Rock ‘n’ Roll DC Half Marathon. A full circle moment, inspired by my kind nurse at Sibley Memorial Hospital.

    Coping with Cancer

    From 2020 to 2024, I faced many surgeries. These included a right hemicolectomy for colon cancer. I also had multiple Transurethral Resection of Bladder Tumor (TURBT) surgeries and neobladder surgery, where my bladder was removed and replaced with a pouch of small intestine. Following four cases of sepsis, caused by scar tissue at the neobladder neck that stopped me from voiding, I had corrective surgery. Additionally, I received immunotherapy and three types of chemotherapy. I also dealt with small intestinal blockages from scar tissue. Despite countless days in the hospital, I kept running between and sometimes during treatments. Often, I could only do short distances, but I stayed consistent. Running became a form of meditation for me. It was my therapy and my coping mechanism for the constant challenges cancer brought.

    Hiring a Running Coach and Joining Team RunRun

    In 2024, having run 2:04:26 at the Rock ‘n’ Roll Washington DC Half Marathon that March, I prepared for my first full marathon. I had never run more than 16 miles. Years of not taking care of my body prior to starting running, alongside my cancer battles, had left me injury prone. I needed guidance, so I hired a running coach: TRR Coach Brant Stachel. 

    When we started working together, I was skeptical. I could not understand how I could run 26.2 miles when my longest run to date was only 16 miles. My coach asked me to trust his training plan, and, nervously, I followed. 

    Philadelphia Marathon 2024 finisher's medal.
    Philadelphia Marathon 2024 finisher’s medal.

    Fast forward to marathon race day, almost four years since my double cancer diagnosis, and I did it! Crossing the finish line of the Philadelphia Marathon in 4 hours and 18 minutes, an average pace of ~9:50 minutes per mile, was overwhelming. I was surprised my aging, formerly cancer-ridden body could do this. Through working with Brant and trusting his training, in only 6 months I had basically run my half marathon pace for a full marathon!

    A Coach’s Perspective

    Here’s what his TRR Coach Brant Stachel had to say: “Vincent is a rockstar! While nervous at first, he bought into the training and asked questions. As his coach, I could tell from the start that he was keen to explore his limits, or so I thought. I later learned that Vincent is one of the few athletes I’ve met who almost doesn’t believe in limits. What he has gone through with cancer, while maintaining his running routine, alongside his dedication to his family and everything else he navigates in life is truly remarkable. As you’ll read, the Philadelphia Marathon was merely a stepping stone to an even bigger, and better accomplishment!”

    Beyond the Marathon

    After the marathon, I began to believe the cancer was behind me. I was a marathoner. My wife, my running partner, ran nearly every race with me. Together, we then aimed for a new goal I never thought possible: an ultramarathon, specifically, the Crested Butte Ultra 50 mile race in the Colorado mountains. My coach, Brant, made the training plan, which would take most of a year to complete. Little did I know, this was only the beginning of my cancer-filled ultramarathon.

    About Vincent

    Vincent Rossi is a father, husband, cancer survivor, and newly minted ultramarathoner! Check out Vincent’s website and Instagram @gnocchi_dinner. He continues to fundraise for the Bladder Cancer Advocacy Network (BCAN). Take a look at Vincent’s BCAN fundraising page here. 

    Part 2 of My Cancer-Filled Ultramarathon will be released soon. 

    Is Running An Ultramarathon For Me?

    Runners smiling during an ultramarathon.
    Runners smiling during an ultramarathon.

    And why would I want to run an ultra when I hated the marathon?


    For many endurance athletes (and if you’re reading this, I assume you are one of them) then the thought “Is running an ultramarathon for me?” may have crossed your mind. You also may have just as quickly dismissed it.

    While road marathons and ultra distance races have similarities–tough training, events lasting several hours–they can almost feel like different sports.

    Before I start, I have a confession: I have never run a road marathon. 26.2 miles on the road doesn’t appeal to me, and I decided to trust my doctor when he told me it was bad for my knees, so I haven’t. He didn’t say anything about ultramarathons though…

    Ultramarathons can be kinder to your body

    While “shorter” 50K ultras are only 10K more than a road marathon, expect them to take much longer if you go down the classic ultra route and choose to run on some form of trail.  Fortunately, on trails you avoid the jarring of the tarmac and the same repetitive stress from the same foot strike pattern. Instead, you’re exploring a variety of terrains, from lush forest trails and dirt roads, to rocky mountains and sandy beaches. Your body is constantly adapting to each surface, sharing the load across different muscles, joints and bones. Of course, there are road options available if you do love the road marathon.

    What you’ll see along the way

    If you hate running on pavements through urban areas (‘sidewalks’ for my American friends), then this is where ultramarathons shine. Take your pick of scenery, from stunning mountain ranges through to desert expanses. Again, if you actually don’t mind the tarmac, there are ultra distance road races. Just have a look at some of the coverage on YouTube of the big ultras and tell me that it isn’t stunning–all you have to do is remember to look up!

    Two women running the Javelina Jundred 100-mile race in costumes. PC: Howie Stern
    Two women running the Javelina Jundred 100-mile race in costumes. PC: Howie Stern

    The ultrarunning community

    Every race that you do will have some sort of vibe, but in my opinion, this is one of the most beautiful things about trail and ultrarunning. You get it all! Small community style races with weird and wacky traditions, to huge events with thousands of runners and festival style feel.  The Javelina Jundred and Lakeland 100 spring to mind for mad, festival-feeling ultramarathons.  Either way, I have found that everyone, aid station volunteers and fellow competitors included, just want you to do well and have a good time. Yes, they are ‘technically’ races but the competition side, certainly for us that are mid- to back-of-the-packers, doesn’t feel that important.  The sense of community and finding your tribe is a consistent theme I hear from all the ultrarunners I interview on my podcast. 

    The supportive ultrarunning atmosphere at an aid station.
    The supportive ultrarunning atmosphere at an aid station.

    Because it’s hard

    Are you looking for your next big running challenge? Running an ultramarathon is the way to go. While a 50K is no easy feat, it’s still something that most marathoners could do, it’s just the hook that reels you in! Finish your first 50K and you’ll then find yourself thinking: “I wonder if I could…”, and off you go, down the ultrarunning rabbit hole! Of course, ultras test you physically, but as the distance increases, the challenge becomes (at least) as much mental, and with that you also get to learn so much about yourself.     

    Time is irrelevant for ultramarathons

    If you have been running for a while then you might pick up on what a “good” performance is, from the world records to ‘good for age’ times. But for ultras, well nobody knows, and even if they did, I don’t think they’d care! People ask about the race distance not the time, joke that they don’t drive that far, look a bit confused then walk off (usually impressed). 

    Ultrarunning camaraderie and enthusiasm during a race.
    Ultrarunning camaraderie and enthusiasm during a race.

    And on the subject of time, pure speed is less relevant than in road marathons. So much so that you may continue to see performance improvements well into your fifties (that’s what I am betting on). There is so much more to becoming a good ultrarunner than simply running, and that comes with experience.

    David Taylor is a coach with Team RunRun based in Glasgow, UK. He specializes in trails and ultras for both beginner and intermediate runners, whether you’re just bumping up in distance or looking to improve your next trail race.