September 2026 Newsletter

by Cara Baskin

John Kelly on the Appalachian Trail

On a Monday afternoon this August, I packed up my work computer after a solid 3 hour work week, and headed to the mountains. John Kelly, a highly accomplished athlete, was making his way through the White Mountains on his second “fastest known time” attempt on the Appalachian Trail. Just last year, he made it from Georgia to northern New Hampshire ahead of the speed record, before making the anguishing but non-negotiable decision to quit when his ankle quit on him. This year he decided to go southbound, starting on Mt. Katahdin in Maine, and working his way through never before seen trail, which happened to be the most difficult terrain on the 2,198 mile trek. With a 40 day timer ticking the moment he stepped away from the highest point in Maine, John moved efficiently and determined across 50 miles a day for 6 days straight before I met him. He even clocked 25mi across the misty and slippery Presidentials before we set off on a 6 hour hike together at dusk into the Pemi range. From the first minute of that hike, he was basically silent, except for the frequent groans of pain and discomfort. It was dark. And then it was raining. And the other hikers and I stayed respectfully behind him, carrying carbs and water he barely touched. He missed his youngest’s first day of school that day. The trail was getting real, and its impact on the father of four was too. 

We reached Galehead Hut at 2:15am and were asleep, soaking wet, smelly and disgusting by 2:30am. 

Just before breakfast, some of the other guests in the hut said they had been tracking John for the last couple days and thought he might be close. We informed them he was in the building. Their eyes widened with excitement. “He’s here?!” I felt the same way. At 6:30a on a Tuesday, the other hikers, our crew, the “hut croo” and John Kelly shared oatmeal and coffee in a hut in the mountains. I can’t get over how special that was. 

The new day was sunny and dry. John was a different person. He jogged and leapt over rocks. He ate and drank. We talked for hours and climbed our way out of the deep Pemi wilderness onto Franconia ridge, where we were met with some of the coolest conditions I’ve seen up there. Expansive clear views to the east, and a block of clouds to the west, divided perfectly along the most classic ridge NH has to offer. We even casually bumped into the gold medal olympic skier Jesse Diggins on trail! Tuesdays are apparently the time to go hiking! 

I left the group where the AT crosses the highway, and John was shepherded out of the White Mountains by a fresh crew of excited hikers, ready to pass his liquids and carbs like a baton on the track. He continued covering 50 miles a day to where the AT meets the Long Trail and then calmly and resolutely shared his decision to leave the trail in a five minute voice note to 300 of his closest fans. 

In a nutshell, which encompasses decades of sweat and toil, he simply had nothing left to prove. Last year he fought through awful weather, pain and mental walls, and was forced to step off trail. In this effort, everything was going well, and yet he didn’t want or need to be there. His family and children were waiting at home, missing a dad that was missing them.

John happened to stop by my office on his way back to Tennessee. (Yes I felt very cool). I told him how much fun I had on our hikes. He told me he had now seen the whole AT. 

A section hiker. 

A smile on his face. 

A dad headed home to see his kids, watch them go to school, cheer at their cross country meets, and build a treehouse together, with 500 extra miles in his legs. 

All this to say there is more out there and we should listen to the ebb and flow of motivation. What I do deeply believe in is the constant of us all being connected through our shared love of running, whether we are deep into an obsession, just starting out, on a hiatus, or giving kudos to our friends because we care. There is an underlying trust where we see and understand each other, and that trust allows us to walk out of our workplace and into the night with a complete stranger. John created an experience that started out for him, and ended up giving to the rest of us. I came back from that day and a half stoked on life (and less stoked about going back to my office chair), having met many awesome people who I hope to see on future adventures. I have so much respect for his time on trail and equal respect for his decision to take time off trail. I hope you too feel the excitement of a running goal and the balance of a well lived life, when the time is right for each.

Race report by Amelia Donahey

Name of the Race: K’esugi Ridge Traverse 

Race/Event Distance: “Full” (50K) 

Date: 8/8/2026 

Describe the Event: The K’esugi Ridge Traverse is a spectacular and rugged point-to-point race through Denali State Park. The full traverse is about 31 miles, with roughly 6,000 feet of climbing, much of it above treeline on broad ridges overlooking the Alaska Range. There are no aid stations, and you have to carry a hat, gloves, windbreaker, long-sleeved shirt and pants, along with all the water, water purification, and food you need. Bear spray is optional — but highly recommended.

I ran much of the race with a very good friend from college, Lauren Rocco. We started in what turned out to be the perfect spot in the pack, settling into a comfortable pace in the single-file line up the initial climb, then gradually working our way forward over the first four miles and 2,000 feet of ascent. We started in cool, dense fog, which turned to steady light rain about an hour into the race. Just when I wondered if I needed to take out my gloves and jacket, the rain began to dissipate. Dark purple monkshood was blooming all along the course, the streams up high were flowing cold and crystal clear, and the ridge-top trail was primarily gravelly till, allowing for remarkably efficient running for many consecutive miles.

Around the midpoint, we passed through a surprisingly lively pass with several dozen spectators and race officials—including Lauren’s husband and kids, who had impressively hiked the 3.7 miles up to that point in under 3 hours to see us! It was a welcome moment of community before the geographic and mental low point of the course: a steep descent off the ridge into dense forest and bear country. The trail quickly became much wilder, with downed trees, mucky streams and marsh lands, sections so overgrown that the grass was above my head. There was plenty of cow parsnip, too. (Several of us later discovered the characteristic blisters the plant’s residue leaves on the skin after exposure to sun.) For a while, the only way I knew I wasn’t alone was the sound of other runners’ bear calls ahead and behind me in the brush.

The trail climbing back out of the lowlands was faint and overgrown enough that a group ahead of me attempted to follow a fork in what turned out to be the wrong way around a pond. (If the trail was going to have any markings or signage at all, this would have been a good spot!) Luckily, I had just started following them when they doubled back, and we all found the correct trail together, which was great timing, because it allowed me to catch back up with Lauren.

From there we began the long ascent back toward the ridge, first through more calf-deep mud pits and overgrowth and eventually across a few miles of granite slabs and more gloriously runnable tread. Reaching the high point of the second half felt like emerging into a new day. The course opened onto a broad alpine ridge dotted with lakes and wildflowers, with the morning’s fog and rain replaced by sunshine and expansive views. While Denali itself remained hidden until after I was off the ridge, the weather was getting better and better, and I found myself unable to wipe the grin off my face throughout this section of rolling descent.

Finally, I came to the last sixth of the course — steady switchbacks followed by a couple of miles of flat trail alongside Byers Lake toward the finish. For all K’esugi’s reputation as a difficult Alaska backcountry race, the course had more genuinely runnable miles of good trail, with minimal rocks and roots, than I could find in a month of running in New Hampshire’s White Mountains.

While I certainly didn’t set any PRs, throughout the race, I felt steady and incredibly grateful to be in such an amazing place.

How did you prepare for the race/event? My training was fairly minimal. After running the Sugarloaf Marathon in May (after only 8 weeks of real training, averaging 30 miles per week), I took 3 weeks of little to no running to recover, then switched over to almost all trail running, averaging 29 miles and 5900ft of vert per week over the next 8 weeks leading up to the race. I enjoyed visiting many of my favorite Vermont sections of the AT and had a few beautiful yet grueling days grinding through the Whites as well. For cross-training, I also swim 2-3 days per week and fit in a hike or a bike ride here and there.

Other preparation included figuring out how to carry bear spray in my pack, deciding on water purification, choosing which items to carry to satisfy the minimum gear requirements, and selecting what nutrition to carry on this self-supported traverse. 

Any notable moments? There were some good post-race stories. We heard that one runner stepped into a mud pit, lost a shoe, and went fishing for it with an arm buried all the way to the shoulder—and still never found it. We are unsure how that person exited the course! 

What do you wish you had known about this race/event before starting? I would have opted for iodine tablets to treat my water, instead of attempting to use a filter, which ultimately I was unable to use. 

By Stacy Campbell, Grantham, NH

(Me with my first official first place medal in my new 50-59 age group at the Hurricane Hill 5K 2026… porta-potty in the background, of course…)

Entering a new race age division as I hit the big 5-0 this August, and having plenty of solo running time since my teen kids all leave me in the dust on the trails these days, I’ve been reflecting a lot on the impact of running on my life over the past 50 years. Maybe some of you have deep roots in running? Maybe some of you are over the age of 50? Maybe some of you are still in your speed or distance running heyday? And maybe some of you are just starting out on this thing called trail shoes, shin splints, Garmin watches, and Strava (which I still have yet to figure out). Wherever you currently stand in the world of the UVRC, I hope you feel like me, lucky to be here and excitedly looking forward to your next workout, race, or icepack.

Safe to say my love of running started as a youngster way back in the 1900’s, around the age of 2 or 3. It was my favorite mode of transportation, I loved to run. Up the stairs, down the stairs, to the kitchen, down the hall. I got places fast when I ran, and I always had places to go. As I got older, running became a way to settle childhood disputes with my next door neighbor/best friend, Amy. Knowing she’d never beat me, I would strategically challenge her to a “race around the house” to settle any arguments we were having or to decide who was “the first winner” if it looked like I might lose a board game we were playing. By age 10 I was building confidence with my rad running skills, leaving all the boys in the dust (well, minus Mike Staffiere, my “super fast” elementary school running idol) during field day, earning ribbon after ribbon and feeling pretty good about myself. With the arrival of high school, I naturally joined the cross country and track teams, and running again helped bridge the awkward teenage gap between friends and, gasp, boyfriends. Being a sprinter, I naturally asked the guy I thought was cute on the team to “hold my blocks” for my indoor 300yd school record breaking race and a high school romance subsequently blossomed. In college, running morphed into a means for clearing my head, taking a break from the books, and keeping the “freshman 15” off. I embraced the world of “distance” running, which at that time meant absolutely nothing more than a 5K. Who would ever be crazy enough to actually want to run a marathon?! 

I didn’t really start dabbling into longer distances until I finished college, then grad school, and that old high school romance fizzled out. I needed a new hobby. Working in Boston at the time, my after-work runs around the Charles River slowly became longer and longer in mileage. Running gave me time to wrap my head around new beginnings but kept me, quite literally, moving forward. It also gave me an out, an excuse if I needed one, “Aw, sorry, can’t make that, I have a long run to do.” Anyone else here a proud old Somerville Road Runner? Khoury’s Thursday night runs?!?

A friend and colleague at the hospital talked me into my first marathon, New York City. It was 2003. I think I wrote “6 hours” as my expected finish time, I had no idea. I trained, finished well under my “expected” time, and thought, “Dang, if I gave this a little more calculated effort, I could probably qualify for Boston.” Marathon #2 was Chicago 2004 (fun fact, registration fee back then was $45). I had made myself a goal. And that fall I qualified for what would be my first of 3 “Bostons” while also getting to travel to new areas of the country to explore! Meanwhile, attempting to make strides forward in the relationship department, running became a screening tool for prospective partners. Friends playing matchmaker would first offer up someone’s running resume before I would agree to a meet up. My husband and I met on the Charles River for a 7 mile run for our first “date.” I was intrigued by his training for something called Reach the Beach. We worked out and thankfully he has supported my love of the sport, stinky running singlets, race registration fees, and excessive running shoe purchases ever since.

Running through most of my first pregnancy made me feel like I was strong like Wonder Woman! Well, until it didn’t once I got too big and awkward to run without a pronounced waddle. Our son was born on Mother’s day, 2010. New mom, new stressors, new schedules, I was desperate for some me-time. A friend and I decided to partner up and relay the Mt. Desert Island Marathon that fall, a marathon I had run and PR’d at in 2008. No strollers, no kid drama, just me and the road. Running became my respite for anywhere from a measly 10 minutes to a blessed 2 hours (!!) of near silence multiple days throughout the week. After my twin daughters arrived in July 2012, running again felt like a reasonable and wholesome outlet to quietly distance myself from the mom world, even just for a little bit, for self preservation.

I was the proudest running and track mom the first year my kids participated in our town’s annual Chief Wills Day kid’s fun run and placed 1st, 2nd, and 3rd in their respective divisions (ages 4-5 and ages 6-7). So proud. They got trophies. They got that feeling of WOW! And they quickly caught the running bug. I bought them “real” running shoes. Nike running shorts with the built in underwear. They loved it all. There was a time when I distinctly remember telling my kids at organized races, “You’ll be fine, just run your own race and watch the course markers,” feeling confident they could surely navigate well marked 5K’s on their own as kindergarteners and not slow me down. Nowadays, they remind me, “Mom, run your own race,” which basically means, “We’ll see you at the finish line…and don’t take too long.”

In the late summer/early fall of 2024, nearly half a century worth of impact from running, hiking, and skiing finally caught up with me. I found myself debilitated in an MRI machine and subsequently scheduling spine surgery that October. Successfully “recovered,” my orthopedic surgeon reluctantly “ok’d” me for the Sunapee Turkey Trot that November… “You understand it’s a Turkey TROT…You do plan to TROT it, right?”… I did. I needed the mental reassurance that I was truly and physically “ok” again, and I wasn’t going to lose my running lifeline. It’s a-whole-nother view from the back of the pack. Post surgery I met extremely resilient people as I continued to recover and increase my mileage. Feeling a little self conscious and a bit of an outspoken need to justify my own new slower walk-jog pace to others, I met a man 1 mile in at BarnArts that spring who reassured me, “You look good! I’m 65 and trying to get in shape, lose some weight, and not die out here!”  Later, same race, I chatted it up with a woman wearing hiking boots up the steep hill on the 5K course who told me, “I’m in the middle of breast cancer treatment and I just want to feel a little more like me on the good days, I wear the boots so I’m not tempted to push it and actually run.” If you’ve never run a race closer to the back, it’s a humbling experience.

With my average pace times now pushing 9+ minutes/mile, I no longer care about my time. Well, I kind of do, but I don’t. I’m just happy to be out there. I reluctantly got a new Garmin at the encouragement of my kids when my OG dinosaur Forerunner 10 could no longer hold enough battery power to last through an entire Covered Bridges Half.  I don’t always remember to “save” my runs, so my running data is off, which absolutely gives my girls a visceral reaction. But I know I ran, I’m good with that. I have nothing to prove. I also still love to hold my arms up high as I cross finish lines (WELL after all the winners) and collect phat race shirts and medals… is ‘phat’ even a popular word anymore? As far as I’m concerned, you do you when it comes to your running goals.

I now have an overwhelming feeling of pride for my kids as they navigate their own running logs, races, and dreams. Jogging behind them on the sidelines and watching them confidently compete gives me deep satisfaction as if I’ve somehow successfully passed the torch on to the next generation. Although they would say, “Mom, it’s not that deep.” Right now to them, I’m just their slow mom who likes to wear porta-potty Chicknlegs and sign them up for races to keep us busy. I’ll let them tease me about my pace as long as they promise to keep running races with me. 

In conclusion, I’m sure many of you could easily pull together a colorful running timeline as well, some of ours longer than others simply by the years we have invested in the sport. Running has propelled me through amazing days and times of my life, but also helped me to endure challenging ones and fill voids. Highs, lows, and buffalos. I have met some of the most incredible and inspiring people I know through running connections. Every April I give a Facebook shout out to the Boston Marathoners and this year I took my girls (now accomplished runners themselves at the ripe old age of 14) to spectate on Heartbreak Hill. It’s always an invigorating, emotional, and inspiring event, especially when you see your own friends run past. The strength, determination, discipline, and perseverance I gained from my own running over the years has certainly helped me power through many of life’s finish lines, not just the asphalt ones. 

Cheers to all the roads to 50 and beyond! 

September Announcements

Thank you to all who joined us for our summer picnic! We enjoyed a beautiful run and bbq in Thetford.

UVRC Calendar

Looking for a local race? Did you know UVRC’s website features a race calendar? Scroll through to find your next adventure!

Western New Hampshire Trail Series

Not a fan of pounding the pavement? Looking to try some new events this year? Check out the Western New Hampshire Trail Running Series! Races take place from May-September throughout the Upper Valley. All races are designed to be welcoming to newbies while still challenging for seasoned veterans. 

Updated Discount Code: Running Warehouse

As a UVRC member, you can enjoy a discount from Running Warehouse: 20% off clothing and socks and 10% off select clearance shoes, visors & hats, and nutrition. Enter code HJZ93FA6 at checkout. Note: this is a new code as of July 1st. 

Volunteer Challenge 2026

Have you ever avoided getting lost in a race because someone in a stylish traffic vest pointed you in the right direction? Have you ever had someone hand you a cup of electrolyte mix mid-stride and continue to smile brightly even though some of that sticky liquid spilled on their hand as you took it from them? Have you ever had a stranger put a medal around your neck and congratulate you? Have you ever reached an aid station 20 hours into a race and had a stranger hand you pickle juice and an otter pop and tell you you look great even though you know they were lying through their teeth out of kindness? 

If you answered yes to any or all of the above, you have benefited from the generosity of volunteers in the running community! Knowing that running events do not happen without volunteers, UVRC is once again issuing a Volunteer Challenge in 2026 – now with a new format! Any UVRC member who volunteers at least 3 hours at a running event or trail work day will be entered to win a pair of running shoes of their choice from Omer and Bob’s or Stateline Sports at the end of the year! Each person gets one entry, though volunteering more than 3 hours is always encouraged. You can submit your hours by emailing  volunteering@uppervalleyrunningclub.org. If you’ve never volunteered at a running event before, we think you’ll find it to be a fun and rewarding experience!

Brett and Cosmo enjoy the cool water at the TD10k river crossing

The 2026 Upper Valley Running Series (UVRS), brought to you by BE Fit Physical Therapy, had the 7th race in July, the Triple Dam 10K. Featuring the famous river crossing. Results here:

You can find UVRS standings on the UVRS website (email me with any corrections):

The 8th UVRS race is September 12 in Sharon, VT: The Sprouty 5K/10K. See the website for full details:

So, what is this UVRS that you’re hearing so much about? It’s our club’s series of local road races. Full information: 

As an up-to-date UVRC member, you can participate in the series, just by signing up for each race through the normal race registration (even day-of is OK). You’ll get credit as a series participant.

For 2026, you need to run 6 (of the 11) races to get the finisher prize. You got this!

If you don’t want to race, or have a family member along, who doesn’t want to run, consider volunteering. Prizes available. Volunteering into: