A Space for Ultra Running Spouses, Partners, + Crews
“How did I get here?” It was 3 a.m., I was waiting at an aid station with a headlamp and a tube of nut butter, waiting for my husband to come down the trail — and I thought: This wasn’t supposed to be my life…but I wouldn’t have it any other way.
💡 If you’re nodding your head already, grab my free Ultra Crew Checklist — it’ll save you from second-guessing what to pack.
The Life of an Ultra Widow
Hi, I’m Ashley, and my husband is an ultra runner. Which means, by default, I’m an Ultra Widow — the one who didn’t sign up for the race but somehow spends weekends waiting at an aid station (or waiting at home while training takes over).
Months of training that reshape daily life and long hours on race day — supporting an ultra runner isn’t just about race day, it’s a lifestyle.
I’ve learned that ultra running may be measured in miles, but it’s fueled by the people behind the runner.
What “Ultra Widow” Really Means
Being an Ultra Widow isn’t just about race day, it’s the months (sometimes years) of training leading up to it. It’s the everyday realities that creep into your daily routine (and sometimes even your dinner table). Like when you’ve:
Spent your Saturday solo while your partner runs “just” 30 miles (and somehow that’s normal now).
Bit your tongue when your runner bought yet another pair of shoes…because apparently 15 pairs all serve a different purpose.
Reworked vacation or social plans around a training schedule.
Gone to bed early so you wouldn’t resent the 4 a.m. clanging.
Quietly juggled household or family responsibilities while your runner chased miles.
Learned that carb-loading is a real thing…and somehow it applies to both of you.
Faced the never-ending laundry pile made entirely of running clothes.
Had more dinner conversations about blisters, gels, and bathroom strategies like it’s normal.
Being an Ultra Widow is about balance: keeping life on track while your runner chases miles. Overwhelming? Sometimes. Rewarding? Absolutely. Because you’re part of something bigger than a medal or buckle.
The Knowledge Gap
When my husband signed up for his first ultra, I scoured the internet for crew tips. What I found? Endless gear lists for runners, training plans, and advice on toenail care but very little for the people who actually support runners.
No one was talking about leapfrogging aid stations for 30 hours, or managing home life around endless training cycles, or how to stay sane when running slowly takes over your shared calendar. (Spoiler: it does.)
Why I Created Ultra Widow
I started Ultra Widow to fill that gap — a place for the unsung heroes of ultra running: the spouses, partners, and crews who make it all possible.
My goal is to give you tools (like checklists and race-day tips), encouragement (because yes, this is hard on you too), and a sense of community (because you’re not the only one who has cried at mile 60).
What You’ll Find Here
This space is part guide, part pep talk, and part survival kit. I share:
Practical resources like ultra crew checklists and race-day strategies
Training support tips for spouses and partners
Real stories from the perspective of the “ultra widows”
Encouragement for the days when you wonder why anyone would voluntarily run 100 miles (seriously, why?)
A little humor to remind you that yes, you will survive another long run weekend
This Wasn’t Supposed To Be My Life.
My husband and I didn’t always live an active lifestyle, but along the way we lost 100 pounds together. He discovered ultra running, I discovered the ultra community — and it became our world.
It was during his first 100-mile race that I saw just how vital a runner’s crew is. From making ramen at 3 a.m. to massaging sore muscles after miles of running, I learned that ultra marathons were a team sport — at least for us.
Welcome to the Ultra Widow Crew
If you’ve ever stood at an aid station wondering if you packed the right gear or if you’ve debated whether to clap or cry when your runner signs up for another ultra — you’re in the right place.
Ultra Widow is about making crewing (and supporting an ultra runner in daily life) feel a little less overwhelming and a lot more doable.
So grab your headlamp, a snack, and maybe a strong coffee (or a glass of wine). Welcome to the Ultra Widow Crew — I’m glad you’re here.
