Instead of taking the winter off from running, I’m adding something: the 75 Hard challenge. Here’s what it is, how it works, and why I’m asking for your support.

Every year at Icebox, runners of every shape and size discover the same thing: the mind quits long before the body does. Here’s why a timed loop in the November woods is the place to make hard things the norm.

Kids know how to turn the gas station a mile away into an expedition. Somewhere along the way we forgot. Here's how I make my own running adventures, one Kwik Trip at a time, and why you should plan yours.

Every race, I watch two groups at the start line: nervous first timers and regulars who've done this for years. Our community needs both, and each makes the other stronger.

I thought I was building races. What I actually built is a recurring reunion that happens to have a timing mat at one end of it.

I stopped to walk another runner to the next aid station, and somewhere in those miles my hundred turned into twenty. Here is why I have no regrets.

Five days before the Superior 100, every small ache starts to feel like evidence. Here's what that taper-week anxiety actually is, and how to let it pass through instead of grabbing onto it.

weekend fantasy football draft with 30-year friends, two weeks before Superior 100. Here's why taper anxiety lies, and what to do with the nervous energy instead.

Mark Dowdle ran 395 miles over 94 hours to win the Last Soul Ultra, then said something into a camera that I haven't been able to shake all week. Here's what it's teaching me before Superior 100.

Six weeks. Three races. One good stretch of fall to test yourself on the trails before winter closes it down. Here's what In Yan Teopa, Trout Brook, and Icebox each bring to the table.

We complain about hard training runs like they're punishment. They're not. They're a privilege most of the world doesn't get to choose. Here's your reminder to run grateful, not just hard.

The "burn the ships" mantra says remove every way out. But there's a real difference between quitting because it's hard and stopping because something's wrong — and training is where you learn to tell them apart.

A heat wave has us daydreaming about October already. Trout Brook isn’t Willow in the fall; it’s a different race entirely, one that leads you into the single-track corner of Willow River State Park most runners never find.

Deep in the biggest week of my Superior 100 build, an old friend called with an invite to his cabin. Here's what almost twenty years of running has taught me about letting a race goal become your whole identity — and why the people who knew you first matter more than the miles.

A flare-up in the middle of a high-mileage training block got me thinking, again, about the difference between working through an injury and toughing it out, at every race distance.

Too many of us base our worth as runners on how we stack up against everyone else. That's a game you cannot win. The real race is internal, and it's the only one worth running.

The In Yan Teopa Trail Race is named after a rock with a hole worn straight through it. The more I sit with what that name means, the more it feels like the whole point of showing up.

There's a stretch of every long run where everything just works, and then, almost out of nowhere, the weather turns. Here's the case for why those low miles might be the best part of the run, if you're willing to jump in the puddle.

A 2-mile loop doesn't sound like much. But at hour twelve of a 24-hour race in 86-degree heat, each one becomes a negotiation — and the only way through is the people who show up.

When I was a kid, my dad took me to tractor pulls. I didn't know it then, but I was watching the perfect metaphor for what happens to every endurance runner somewhere in the back half of a very long race.