‘I’m motivated by the puzzle’: how Courtney Dauwalter became ultrarunning’s GOAT

In 2023, Dauwalter became the first person, male or female, to win the Triple Crown, the three most iconic 100-mile races in the world, in one season.

Ultrarunning, with races ranging from 50K to 250 miles, is defined by Type-A personalities: precise, rigid, detail-oriented, even obsessed. Courtney Dauwalter, 38, is the exception to the rule.

Dauwalter doesn’t have a coach or a strict training schedule. She’s never been on Strava and doesn’t plan races far in advance. She runs in long shorts and baggy clothing because, she says, it’s more comfortable. She eats candy during training and drinks beer afterward because that makes her happiest.

“My diet is to eat the things that look good in the amounts that feel good,” Dauwalter said. “My fuel tank is based on joy. When I’m happy, the engine runs a lot better.”

Although her philosophy may sound nonchalant, the results say otherwise. In the last decade, Dauwaler has won more than 50 ultras, often in dominant fashion, and is widely regarded as the best of all time.

In the summer of 2023, Dauwalter became the first person, male or female, to win the Triple Crown in the same season. The triple consists of Western States 100, Hardrock 100 and UTMB, three of the most grueling, competitive and iconic ultras in the world. Only one other athlete, Kilian Jornet, has won all three over the course of his entire career.

Still, Dauwalter says winning the Triple Crown hasn’t changed her outlook at all, despite a flood of accolades. “I don’t see it as a turning point. I don’t think of my wins that way. No race is perfect. There’s always something to do differently next time. I always hope to finish a race knowing that I gave it my all that day, but that I can tinker. I’m motivated by the puzzle.”

The puzzle is, so to speak, her secret to success. Like most highly successful people, Dauwaler is motivated by the process, not the results. Her process, however, is anything but traditional.

“After I wake up, I have two cups of coffee and do an informal full body assessment,” Dauwalter explains. “Where is my head? How are my feet? How are my lungs and what is my stress level? I listen to what my systems are saying before I do anything else.”

Without a coach or a set training schedule, Dauwalter trains completely by feel. Her days are loosely structured, which allows for adaptability. She makes intuitive decisions, such as how many hill repeats to do or how big her lap should be that day. “After I check in, I figure out what training I’m going to do. As I go for a run, I keep doing the system checks to see how I feel when I start moving. If I feel good, I might step on the gas, if I don’t feel good, I might step on the brake.”

Dauwalter started this year with a win at Transgrancanaria 126k in February and followed this up with a win at Mount Fuji 100 in April. In July she won Hardrock for the third year in a row, but claims that none of those races were as easy as she would have liked.

“After last summer, I was more tired than ever, so I took a lot more time off than usual. Normally I take about a month, but I took a lot of months to relax,” Dauwalter says. “I was physically and mentally exhausted.” The longer break caused her to lose more fitness, which made her comeback more difficult.

“I ran Transgrancanaria in 2023, so it was easy to compare the two races. This time it was a lot harder,” says Dauwalter, despite winning by more than an hour.

After winning Mount Fuji, Dauwatler felt back on track. “Training went well and I felt good going into the race, but Hardrock was one of those days where the gears weren’t aligning. In the first few hours, I knew it wasn’t going to be smooth sailing. Everything was a bit more effort than it should have been, so I kept reminding myself to be patient and let time be our friend.”

Still, Dauwalter broke her own course record by two and a half minutes. She hopes to race again this fall, but doesn’t know which race that will be. “I’m just enjoying it as much as possible right now, and not thinking about what’s coming. Instead of trying to predict the next chapter, I just want to live in this chapter.”

This wasn’t always Dauwalter’s philosophy. She had never heard of ultrarunning, let alone thought about going professional, until she was in her twenties.

“When you grow up, you see this progression. You play the board game Life and learn that you have to follow the steps,” says Dauwalter. “I believed in a linear path. Choosing ultrarunning was like taking a side road. That’s when I realized I was writing my own book.”

In 2017, she quit her full-time teaching job to take a shot at ultrarunning. “It was just a hobby, so it was kind of crazy to do it full-time. I didn’t have a way to pay the bills at home, but I didn’t want to be 90 and wonder, ‘What if?'” That kind of curiosity was formed when I was a kid.

Dauwalter grew up in the suburbs of Minneapolis in a close-knit, active, hardworking family. “The grades were always less important than when we were doing the best we could,” Dauwalter says. “My parents stressed that if we were going to do something, we had to do everything we could.”

Courtney Dauwalter completes a race. Photo: Andy Cochrane

As the middle child, Dauwalter was close to both of her brothers. “We went to the same school, went through the same phases, even shared a car together,” Dauwalter jokes. “We all played on the same soccer team, and they didn’t treat me differently because I was a girl. They never lowered the bar for me.”

In seventh grade, Dauwalter joined the cross-country team, which quickly became her greatest passion. In her freshman year, she made the varsity team and qualified for the state meet. “We had great coaches all the way through high school. The boys and girls teams trained together, like a family of best friends.”

Dauwalter’s coaches fostered a culture of hard work, but not at the expense of fun. “I remember laughing so hard when I was doing hill repeats. They encouraged us to keep our eyes on the goal while having fun.” This mentality made a deep impression on Dauwalter and has become one of her core values. Even when she’s in the middle of a 100-mile race, Dauwalter is known for her big smile and infectious sense of joy.

After graduating from college, Dauwalter signed up for her first marathon, not expecting it to go well. “I thought 26 miles would kill me, but it didn’t, so I started wondering how much longer could I do it?”

Curiosity led her to ultrarunning, but success didn’t come right away. In 2012, Dauwalter dropped out of her first 100-mile race, which initially left her doubting herself. “I remember thinking I was a joke for trying, but that moment was an important part of my journey. It taught me about the mental side of ultrarunning and how important the things you tell yourself are, especially in the toughest moments.”

Years later, Dauwalter’s mental strength is what really sets her apart. She cherishes visits to what she calls “the pain cave,” the mental place she goes when she reaches her physical limit. She visualizes an actual cave, walks in, picks up a chisel, and starts chopping. If necessary, she will stay in the cave for hours.

“Getting into the cave is my whole goal for signing up for a race. I don’t go there during training, so I feel lucky to go to a race,” Dauwalter says. “On the starting line, I want to get into that cave as quickly as possible and spend as much time there as possible, so it gets bigger.”

Dauwalter sees the same cave every time, returns to the exact spot where she left off, and keeps chipping. Visiting the cave is a tool to keep moving forward and believing in herself, not a distraction. By focusing on swinging the chisel over and over again, Dauwalter sends signals to her legs to keep going. Although unintentional, the Pain Cave is a near-perfect allegory for the process of ultrarunning. It’s a craft that takes years of dedication and consistency to master, much like digging a massive cave.

While the pain cave may sound dark and grueling, Dauwalter says it’s better described as curiosity. “It’s impossible to do a 100-mile race perfectly, with so many variables and so much time to play. There’s always something to learn, if I stay curious and keep moving the pieces around. I love that feeling. I love that I get to figure it out over and over again.”

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