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3600 Charlotte Ave.
Nashville, TN 37209 

Monday – Friday: 5am-10pm 
Saturday: 9am-10pm 
Sunday: 12pm-10pm 


1900 Eastland Ave. #104
Nashville, TN 37206

Monday – Friday: 5am-10pm 
Saturday: 9am-10pm 
Sunday: 12pm-10pm 

3600 Charlotte Ave
Nashville, TN, 37209
United States

(615) 463-7625

Climb Nashville is the south’s destination for indoor climbing. Friendly and experienced staff can teach you how to climb safely and help you share an adventure with your family and friends that they’ll never forget.

Why running? Why trails? Why ultras?

Blog Backend

The Climb Nashville blog is a recourse for the local climbing community of Nashville.  

Why running? Why trails? Why ultras?

Climb Nashville

Every runner has a different story. A reason why they started running, sure, but, more importantly, a reason why they continue to run. Mine is nothing special, but I’ll give you the short and sweet. I didn’t discover running until graduate school. Simply enough, I was living in Louisiana, far from my New England roots, spending hours a day in a small room by myself. It was the nature of my program, and I knew what I was getting into. With no climbing nearby, I quickly realized that I needed to find a way to get outside, so I started running.


I trained for and completed my first half marathon right before graduating. The goal was just to finish, and I did exactly that. I sat on the couch the rest of the afternoon and was sore for days.

However, throughout the training process, I had discovered valuable training secrets - who knew that running in heat and humidity was harder? What are gels, and more importantly, do they work? Why do runners carry around those foam roller sticks? Am I supposed to stretch? This has and will always be my strategy - trial and error. I’m an independent soul at first, and my own research and discovery are some of the most powerful tools I have.

After moving to Nashville, I sought out another half marathon. I trained with more intention, the goal being to improve on my previous time. My roommate casually mentioned a running group in East Nashville that met down the block from our house. I began running on Wednesday nights with East Nasty, one of Nashville’s largest running groups. That turned into Saturday long runs with a pace group, and my first running community was born on the roads and greenways of my new city. Running with other people felt amazing - we talked about shoes, gels, and pooping. You know, runner things!

Training went great, but when race day came accompanied by extreme heat and humidity, I got dropped by my pace group and had to come to terms with the slowest half I’d completed yet. I was horribly disappointed. However, I had several more crucial growth moments and questions answered through trial and error.

Most of all, I wondered, why do I need someone to set up a start/finish line to tell me to run 13.1 miles? I am capable, my body is capable, and I can run a half marathon any day of the week if I want to.

So, the next weekend, I ran another half marathon, but this time it was for myself. I got that time goal I’d trained for with a few minutes to spare. I also vowed that I was finished with road racing. The sheer number of runners, the immense occupation with pace, and the pounding of pavement wasn’t for me. I sought out another running community, the Dirtbag Trail Runners.

Trails made all the sense in the world to me. Time spent outside in nature, no traffic, and constantly changing terrain makes keeping your “road pace” impossible.

Throughout the summer, I ran simply for the joy of running. Touring across the Eastern half of the US gave me the opportunity to go on exploratory adventure runs in nearly every city we played in. My weekly mileage inadvertently skyrocketed, and every chance I had, I was out in Percy Warner.

It wasn’t about the miles, it was about the time spent outside, either by myself or with my newfound trail running community.

I was first exposed to ultrarunning when I stumbled upon a vlog posted by a runner who had attempted the 2017 Barkley Marathons. It jogged my memory as I had watched the Netflix documentary of the same race in graduate school before I even started running. Funny how things come full circle. I fell into a deep hole watching countless race recap and training videos. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Finally, I got so restless that I laced up and PR’d my 10k time.

Training through the late summer and early fall taught me a lot about hydration and nutrition, both crucial elements to success in trail and ultrarunning. I felt strong, was enjoying the runs and the conversation, asking every question I could think of - from proper foot placement on technical descents to power hiking form and hip strengthening exercises. Runners far more experienced than I embraced my enthusiasm and willingness to learn. I planned to run my first 50k in the spring, and to train through my 25k. After all, who says that race has to be the first time I run 15 miles? I am capable, my body is capable.

 I was determined not to sign up for a 50k until I had completed 25k. My training partners joked on runs, “so, I’ll see you at Bell Ringer 50k?” After hours spent on the trails together, they weren’t convincing me anymore. I was convincing myself. I love running, I love trails, and I love spending time outside.

Why start by limiting yourself? Nothing in my short running history has indicated that I can’t complete this. In fact, I’d proven time and time again that I was in control. I put in 800+ miles of training between May and December, allowed myself a two-week taper (which was the worst), and knew that the work was done. It was time to play.

At 4:15am on December 9, my alarm went off and I ran an ultramarathon. 

Well, it wasn’t quite that simple. I had spent the day prior organizing my hydration vest, planning out my nutrition and hydration, packing my drop bag, and laying out my cold-weather clothes.

My favorite blister-proof Smartwool crew cut socks, and my secret weapon: baby food. You read that right - baby food is just pureed fruits and veggies, and as a plant-based eater, it is essential that I fuel with as much real, whole food as possible. Plus, it comes in convenient squeeze pouches easy to stuff in the front of my vest. Ultrarunning is basically just an eating contest, since you are calorie-deficient from the start and it only gets worse if you don’t stay on top of your calories.

At the risk of making 31.5 miles seem trivial, the first 15 miles felt comfortable. They should have - I had trained that distance many times. I ate decently well and the course support from my training group kept me smiling. Mile 15 is where I began running alone. I didn’t see anyone until the mile 20 aid station, and they came in just as I was finishing half a banana and a few swigs of Coke. I never drink soda, but I knew the quick-releasing sugars could do wonders.

For me, the race was always going to be 24 miles long. At mile 24, I would see all my training partners at the last aid station. At that point, there would be no question that I’d finish. When I appeared at the bottom of the last climb into the mile 24 aid station, I saw my ultra mentor Becca, in her full camo snow pant overalls absolutely lose her mind and start screaming my name.

All the idiots who had put in the hours alongside me on the Nashville trails dropped their beers and rushed to ask what they could do. I asked for coffee, something hot to drink. At mile 24 of my first ultramarathon, I had the most amazing hot chocolate. It was everything I needed. Becca stared at me until I sucked down a baby food, and sent me on a quick 2-mile out-and-back. I knew I’d pass through them again, and left saying “see you in 20 minutes… eh, 30 minutes!” I split a sub-11 mile 25 and Becca forced 200 more calories in me before pushing me out of the aid station. Three people passed me as I enjoyed a moment with friends, knowing it was the last time I’d see anyone until the finish.

The extra time spent eating at the aid station paid dividends as I caught up to the three ahead of me. We estimated that we had probably 2-3 miles until the finish. I knew two things about the finish: stairs, and one final hill. As we hit the last stretch of trail, I saw the stairs. Simultaneously, someone screamed at me in an Olaf onesie from across the lake.

I had been in front of these folks for 25 miles. I wasn’t letting them take it away from me at the end, especially after I’d caught up to them. I made my pass on the bridge, knowing I’d have to take the stairs two at a time. That one last hill was a total pain, but the result was worth it: alone in the finish chute, being encouraged by one of my training partners, and finishing my very first ultramarathon.

So, why running? Why trails? Why ultras? I have learned more about my connection to myself, to nature, and to my community through training for and running trail ultras. Much like climbing, the trail running community is a small but fervent bunch. We may be a bit crazy, but we aren’t stupid. Is running ultramarathons crazy? Yes. Is it stupid? No.