This Is Happening

From running to ranching to a personal struggle

Welcome back. Instead of a single long narrative, today’s newsletter features three stories that go from practical to personal, from running to ranching to an inner debate that affects wellness. I welcome your feedback in the comments below. Thank you for subscribing and taking the time to read this!

These are a few of my favorite races

This weekend, I travel to Salt Lake City for a 12-hour timed ultra to log as many laps as I can going up and down a three-mile route on a steep, snowy mountain—a challenge that should get “interesting” with a winter storm forecast to hit during the race. It’s called Running Up for Air, and I’m doing it partly because of the unusual challenge, and partly because I admire the race director’s background and mission.

It’s a homegrown race by longtime ultrarunner and environmentalist Jared Campbell. It’s also unlike any other race on my calendar. (For background, read this article I wrote for Ultrarunning magazine about it in 2020.)

The point is, the event feels special, which got me thinking of other special, lower-profile events that I’d recommend. What follows is a list for any of you seeking different, worthwhile trail races to run, whose race director has a track record as a good guy or gal, is community-oriented, and not working for UTMB-Ironman.

April

• Whiskey Basin (various distances from 10K up to 57 miles), April 13, Prescott, AZ: I’ve run this event by Aravaipa Running twice and love it. The longest distance, 91K (~57M), completes a full loop around the forested Prescott Circle Trail, and starts and ends at a lake with beautiful rock formations that stand like ghostly human figures. The full circumnavigation on the loop trail is part of what make it special. Report on my old blog.

May

• Miwok 100K, May 4, Stinson Beach, CA: This race is a greatest hits of the Marin Headlands. I’ve run it several times, and it’s one of my all-time faves, plus it’s a Western States 100 qualifier. It may be close to full but has a waiting list. Report from my 2022 run there.

The Pirates Cove portion of the Miwok 100K.

• Also in Northern California in early May—Grizzly Peak Trail Run (various distances from 10K-50K), May 11, Berkeley, CA: This takes place in Tilden Park, in the Berkeley hills, where I got my start as a runner decades ago. I simply love these trails through oak-bay woodland, which top out on ridge lines that reveal a three-bridge view of the San Francisco Bay. May is arguably the prettiest, greenest time to visit the Bay Area. When I lived in Northern California, I ran this and many other old-school, small-scale events by Coastal Trail Runs (check out their full event calendar) and could always count on Coastal to put on a reliable no-frills fun race.

June

• Bears Ears Ultra 30K/50K/50M, June 22, Monticello, UT: I just signed up to run the 50-miler again! This race, by Mad Moose Events, is extremely difficult in the middle but bookended by smoother runnable miles. Don’t be fooled by the name and think it takes place on a high-desert landscape around Bears Ears National Monument. It runs through a forested environment, mostly aspen groves, in the Abajo Mountains overlooking Bears Ears and Canyonlands National Park. (This is the same day as Western States, and also the same day as another favorite ultra, the San Juan Solstice 50, but I’m not highlighting SJS50 because its lottery registration closes today and it’s overly popular.) My race report from 2021.

July

• Box Canyon 30K/10M, July 20, Telluride, CO: If you want a taste of the San Juan Mountains but can’t handle or get into Hardrock 100 or the Ouray 100, come to my hometown for this short-but-sweet-and-spectacular race. It covers the portion of the Hardrock course between Telluride and the ridge above Ophir. Columbine and other wildflowers will still be blooming. And, I’ll be there helping out! The locals who put this on (along with the Deep Creek Half and Hanging Flume on this list) are nice guys.

August

• Telluride Mountain Run 13M/24M/40M, August 24, Telluride, CO: Similar to the Box Canyon race above, this event provides an awesome introduction to the San Juan Mountains around Telluride. It’s no joke in terms of difficulty (see my race report from last August for details). Even the half marathon is a white-knuckling, lung-busting high-altitude adventure. Registration opens tomorrow (February 1) and tends to fill fast because the permit allows a relatively small number of participants.

September

• Grand to Grand Ultra ~170 miles self-supported, September 22 - 28, Kanab, UT: It’s not too late to register and train for this life-changing weeklong event, which combines running with camping. This is my “A” race for the year and will by my fourth run at it.

• Deep Creek Half Marathon, September 28, Telluride, CO. This point-to-point half marathon starts near my house and finishes in town, and sadly I’ll miss volunteering for it because I’ll be finishing the Grand to Grand (see above). The aspens will be golden and gorgeous! It’s put on by the same guys who do the Box Canyon and Hanging Flume races.

October

• Hanging Flume 50K, October 5, near Nucla, CO: I’ve only run it once, but it’s one of my favorites due to the high-desert landscape and the history there. Race report with details.

For more ideas, follow this new column by Andy Jones-Wilkins on iRunFar spotlighting “under the radar” races. Also check out

Jade Belzberg

’s latest post about a race near San Luis Obispo, California, put on by a race director who hosts several quirky, well-regarded races in the Santa Barbara region. I haven’t run his events, but I’ve heard only good things about them.

Finally, if you’d like to support my run this Saturday, I’m raising money for the Running Up for Air cause of improving air quality around Salt Lake City. The event highlights the horrible inversion layer of pollution that settles around SLC during winter, and supports nonprofits that combat or provide alternatives to the biggest polluters. You can donate to Utah Clean Energy here. I’d love to inspire 10 people to donate 10 bucks or more.

Wanted: tens of thousands of acres in the West to raise up to 1500 cows

Over the past week, I got swept up in a story about a multigenerational ranching family searching for land to lease for raising their large cattle herd. They have to vacate the land they currently lease by the end of the year. I care about this family’s fate not only because they got screwed, but also because of the implications for smaller-scale ranching by independent ranchers who are better stewards of the land and their livestock, and who want to see ranch land conserved as open space with biodiversity and not overgrazed. It also has ramifications for the future of ranch hands like my son—young people who want to raise animals and work the land instead of taking a desk job on a career path threatened by AI, preserving a way of life and raising food in a healthier and more sustainable way than corporate big ag ever will.

The Colorado Sun wrote an in-depth piece on January 21 that I hope you’ll read here. Ranchlands is a family ranching business headed by Duke Phillips with a mission “to promote the conservation of rangelands, our ranching legacy, and quality of life for people living and working on ranches.”

The family got hit by a double-whammy. First, it lost its lease on the sprawling 86,000-acre Chico Basin ranch, located about 45 minutes southeast of Colorado Springs, which it has managed and raised cattle on since 2002. This ranch is more than a cattle operation. The Phillips developed an educational component for K-12 students and an apprenticeship program for future ranchers, which will disappear. When the lease came up for renewal, the family was outbid by another ranching operator in a controversial decision.

The Phillips family shared their view in an email to me: “We have been kicked off the Chico Basin Ranch because an entity came in with a very high lease offer which we know won't work economically on the ranch without outside capital supplementing the biz, and which furthermore will put a great deal of pressure on the natural resources. There is a constitutional mandate that requires the Colorado State Land Board to not compromise the integrity of the natural resources by accepting an extraordinarily high lease rate, so the CSLB staff twisted the facts in their bogus selection process to paint [the winning proposal] as the better land steward and community supporter in order to  justify the higher bid rate.”

At the same time, the Phillips family is losing their other business—managing bison and beef for The Nature Conservancy, and hosting a small number of tourists for workshops and ranching experiences—on the Zapata Ranch located in between Alamosa and the Great Sand Dunes National Park. The Nature Conservancy decided to change the mission and management of Zapata, as explained here. I wrote about the Zapata Ranch in this newsletter in the fall of 2022 after spending a week there for an advanced horsemanship clinic, during which I learned about the Phillips family’s operations and ranch practices. (Read that ranch getaway post here.)

My photo from our Zapata Ranch week in 2022, when we got a lesson on how to find and catch a wounded cow and then administer veterinary medicine to it.

If you care about this issue as I do, here’s what you can do:

• Read and share the Sun article, especially if you have any connections to anyone who owns, leases, or manages large ranches in the West. As a Phillips family rep told me: “The best-case scenario for the family at this point is to secure another large ranch lease. Their biggest asset is the giant cattle herd, and they need a place for them. Getting the word out far and wide is our best bet. Maybe a conservation nonprofit steps up. Maybe a billionaire steps up. Maybe a landowner reads it and decides Ranchlands should be managing their ranch.”

• Read this webpage that describes what Ranchlands is seeking and describes their management model.

• Check out the 2024 events and workshops being held at Zapata and consider attending one, as it will the the last chance—the last year—they’re held, before Ranchlands’ caretaking of Zapata comes to an end.

A family representative reached out to me because I wrote the earlier story about our stay at Zapata. In their words, “The larger story has implications for the national food system if regular, smaller operators can't afford the land necessary to run a business, and how it might lead to continued consolidation of lots of land in the hands of the few, the wealthy. Especially in the West, with ranches viewed as a financial asset or a billionaire's private kingdom, rather than as a place of food production and community relationship to land.”

I really hope they can find a new home for their large herd before year’s end and carry on their traditional operation.

Dry February?

It’s the last day of Dry January. I did it, a whole month without alcohol. Did you? Maybe you didn’t feel the need. But I did. Now I’m thinking more closely, where do I go from here with drinking (or not)? Do I decide once and for all that I don’t need it and have a full breakup, rather than trying to “just be friends”? Wouldn’t it be easier that way, never again mentally debating, “Am I going to drink with dinner or save my drink for after dinner or skip it altogether? Should I stick with just one or let myself have two tonight?”

I’m leaning toward a full breakup, but I don’t want to deprive myself of the pleasure of indulging and getting buzzed for special occasions, particularly when we go out to eat (which is rare) or travel. Maybe my answer is never drinking alcohol at home.

Read on if you’re interested in how I grapple with this. Maybe you’ve been through similar grappling.

I’ve been sleeping solidly and waking up with my head clear, my body light and limber. By contrast, five years ago, I chronically suffered insomnia and woke up feeling gross—headachy, heavy, and tired. My weight was five or six pounds higher than now (not a big deal for overall health, but it makes a difference in how I feel running). I frequently took half an Ambien to combat the middle-of-the-night waking, during which I’d toss and turn from anxiety about the state of the world and disappointment with myself.

I found this from a journal in late 2019: “Around 3 a.m., I lay in bed with one hand pressed against my forehead and the other resting on my abdomen, mouth dry from wine-induced dehydration and belly bloated from eating half a cookie and a bunch of cashews after dinner. I try to make myself feel better: It was just half, and cashews are good for you. But I don’t want to feel this way.”

Also from late 2019, an excerpt from something I spilled on the Notes app on my phone:

“How I know I am a problem drinker, and why I want to stop: I am waking up in the middle of the night with a slight headache and feeling regret mixed with shame. This is a familiar feeling. It comes from drinking 3 – 5 glasses of wine (or wine in combo with beer). I knew I would feel this way after I came home from the event and continued drinking. Even though I knew I would regret it, I did it anyway. … I feel like a fraud for being a health advocate and athlete yet sabotaging myself at night. … I do not want to be at risk for disease. From the CDC: Excessive drinking may result in memory loss and shrinkage of the brain. Increased cancer risk with drinking, too. I know I have written this kind of confession before. The fact I have failed before doesn’t mean I can’t try again. I do want to try again to change.”

My first Dry January, in 2020, felt depriving and challenging, each night trying to mentally relax and “ride the crave wave” as if surfing and riding out the desire for wine and beer. But I succeeded. Going a month without drinking felt like a monumental achievement. I reset my relationship with alcohol and found I could drink just one for a bit of pleasure but didn’t really need it and occasionally felt it was easier and better-feeling to skip it altogether.

Then the pandemic shutdown hit, and I reverted to two to three a night, sometimes four, never abstaining. I once again fit the definition of a heavy drinker, once again felt gross.

Fast forward four years to this month, and it felt so much easier to give it up entirely for this Dry January because I had been drinking less and abstaining on more nights through all of last year. I attended a dinner party last night and felt fine drinking a non-alcoholic beer followed by sparkling water while all the ladies around me got lubed up and heavy-lidded with wine. I knew I’d feel better today for it.

Many years ago, we stopped keeping hard alcohol in the house because single-malt Scotch was too expensive and tempting. Then nearly two years ago, I broke my wine habit, which made a huge, positive difference for sleep and craving. The pricey practice of splitting a bottle of chardonnay with my husband every single night, plus drinking a beer on top of that, made me feel as if I were pickling my brain. It also whetted my appetite to snack mindlessly before and after dinner.

Good ol’ beer—a hearty craft IPA, ABV 6 or slightly higher—remains my drink of choice and doesn’t destroy my sleep as wine does, even when I occasionally enjoy two instead of just one. But I don’t need those nutritionally empty carbs on top of dinner, and the pleasant buzz sabotages my ability to enjoy reading at bedtime.

I do miss beer, however, especially when we go out to eat pub grub. I think I will keep abstaining when at home, thinking of beer (and wine) at home as a non-option, just something I do not ingest. I’ll treat it like a food allergy. (This is easer said than done because it’s in the house due to my husband’s choice to drink.) But I’ll be open to having a beer on occasion when we go out. We’ll see how that works and how long it lasts.

If you want to read a powerful and sobering Dry January essay, check this out by

Kim Foster

.

I know this internal debate is shared by many. How about you, what works for you in terms of drinking sometimes or not at all? If you went the sober route by giving up alcohol, do you occasionally indulge in getting high with weed or microdosing psilocybin (something I do not do but have considered)? Candid comments below are welcome and appreciated! Or, if you receive this newsletter by email and would rather share your comment privately, you can email me.

Heading out last night to a party, feeling good and not drinking. (My daughter designed the Western buckle and had it made by a silversmith as a special gift, showing our two horses and home.)

Final note—on Sunday, I wrote a bonus post for paid subscribers that shares my process and feelings around setting a stretch goal at this weekend’s ultra. If you’d like to receive bonus posts and an invitation to the monthly online meetup, please consider upgrading your subscription to the supporter level.