Sri Chinmoy 12Hr: Sharing Laps and Stories of Loss and Grief, and Joy
- Miriam Diaz-Gilbert
- 51 minutes ago
- 7 min read
Every ultra we take on has a story. Every story is different. Most of us will get to the finish. Some of us will DNF (did not finish). Some will run, others will walk. Some start out running fast, and finish walking slowly.
Some of us are running an ultra for the first time, and are simply excited to get to the start.
The majority have trained well, and hope to run well, podium, or set a new PR. And others just want to finish, whether it’s their first or one of many ultras.
Some of us will run as fast as we can. Others will put one foot in front of the other at their pace. Some are front-pack runners, others mid-pack runners, and others are at the end of the pack.
One thing is for sure, no matter how fast or how slow we go, we all end up at the same finish line, especially at timed ultramarathons, that include 6-hr, 12-hour, 24-hour events, and beyond, Participants collect as many miles as they want, and are able. There is no DNF.
Ultrarunners, ultramarathoners take on grueling distances for a variety of reasons. Every runner, walker has a story. Some of us are coping with adversity, physical, medical, and mental health challenges. Others want to set a PR. For some, collecting miles is a spiritual experience and the miles are prayers for themselves or for others.
And while the sport of ultrarunning is considered a solitary sport, we are not alone on the course.
Along the way, we share the course with fellow runners that we know and don't know. Sometimes, at the end of the race, we leave not knowing much about each other. But many times, two runners meet for the first time with a chat during a walking break, and encourage each other for a lap or two, a mile or two or longer.
And sometimes, the chats lead to new discoveries — similar life experiences beyond the number of ultras we’ve finished, our personal best, the blisters and hallucinations we’ve endured, and the physical and mental exhaustion that we suffer, all par for the course.
This year, and a year older, I returned to the flat 2.95-mile park loop to collect laps and miles with a new purpose. Along the way, I met two runners.
I would say that the greatest gift of all at Sri Chinmoy this year was sharing laps with new fellow runners that were also collecting miles to remember and honor family members no longer with them.
David, age 50, honored his mother, who tragically died in an auto accident with his father. He lost both parents, but kept his promise to his mother's plea to never run more than 50 miles on any given day.
David and I began chatting when he noticed my 2012 Dirty German 50 running cap. He was at the Dirty German 50 a couple of years ago and stopped at mile 48 to honor the promise he made to his mother.
We chatted for a couple of laps and also discovered that our parents were born in Puerto Rico. It was special to know we are both Puerto Rican.
Mary, age 75, honored her brother, who lost his battle with two cancers - prostate cancer and esophageal cancer.
Mary and I began chatting when I power walked past her as she groaned in a low whisper, "Now, I just want to finish." She was exhausted. I slowed down my power walk, and as I recall, we stayed together for 3 laps/ 8.85 miles.
Between our steps, we shared our faith, our gratitude for God's plan to bring us together on this beautiful but hot Saturday, We shared Bible passages about running — Run with endurance this life God has placed before us (Hebrews 12:1), I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith (2 Timothy 4:7), and Come what may, I want to run (2 Samuel 18:23).
We learned about each other's professional careers. Mary, a psychologist, was also an adjunct professor. I taught theology, world religions, and spirituality & healing until I lost my adjunct professor position to the pandemic. I then reinvented myself, and became a self-taught painter. We love to teach, but are happy not to be teaching in these turbulent times.
At one point, the three of us ended up together about a half mile from the timing mat. "David, this Is Mary. Mary, this David," I said, sandwiched between them. And we chatted a bit more.
Last June 7, 2025, I collected miles of prayers for my beloved mother, who was in hospice. She took her last breath at age 99 last June 13. (here’s the race report). This year I collected miles in remembrance of my mother. She was a great walker. May she rest in peace.
Our stories and sharing helped us to move along under the bright blue sky and hot sun with temps in the high 80s. We walked a lot, maybe because we're older and more experienced, and know that walking can get you many miles and get you to the finish. Speed was never part of the equation.
We were on a wonderful course, honoring and remembering our loved ones, in nature and along a huge lake.
The park was filled with music, picnics, families, couples, and children shrieking with delight and screaming in laughter as they ran around. The same happy sounds came from the waterpark we could see from afar, as they went down the water slide and splashed in the pool to stay wet and cool.
It's amazing what can happen on the course when exhausted runners stop to say to each other, "hello," "how are you doing?" "it sure is hot" New friendships are forged. As we put one foot in front of the other, we share and appreciate our 'why.' And our meaningful purpose at an ultra.
We know that experiencing a grueling ultra is nothing in comparison to the suffering that our loved ones endured. We were collecting miles for them and not for ourselves. It was a spiritual sharing of the human experience of loss and grief. We were all blessed and grateful.
We all agreed...our family members were watching over us. Everyone’s ultra event experience is different. This was ours.
And I shared my story of Jon's stage IV colorectal cancer twice in a five-year period.
I shared that I beat early-stage breast cancer in June 2024. (Read here). I never stopped tackling ultras and Jon never stopped crewing me. We both know how blessed and lucky we are.
As always, Jon fed me. Because I cannot have foods that contain preservatives, additives, food coloring, steroids, antibiotics, hormones, insecticides, and pesticides, we make all our food and pack it to take to ultras. Read why here.
Jon made the cocoa dark chocolate chip cookies, dark chocolate chip pancakes, chicken fingers, salted potatoes. He packed a boiled egg, an egg from one of our hens, Ruby or Rosie. I made the crusty artisan bread. I enjoyed watermelon and pineapple, too. These foods were my fuel. I hydrated with coconut water and plain seltzer, and consumed salt tablets. Jon also documented my twelve laps with photos on his iPhone.
He drained the blister that was starting to fill my usual hot sport on the side of my left foot with fluid. He helped me to change my socks, and put my running shoes back on. He applied sunscreen on my arms and legs, while I applied it on my face. He took down the tent and packed the car while I washed up and changed clothes in the women's restroom for the two-hour ride home with my medal and first place female trophy in the 60-69 age group.
All day, Jon told me that I was in third place. Apparently, the leaderboard had not been updated. It wasn't until 5:45 pm with an hour and fifteen minutes to go that I found out I was in first place in my age group with 41.3 miles. I continued for a partial lap to aid station 2 for an additional 2.3188 miles. I did not have enough time to complete the full 2.95 loop, but finished with a total 43.6788 miles.
David honored his mother with less than 50 miles, and Mary, the only female in the 70+ age group, collected 40.7286 miles and a trophy. Age is just a number; it's what you do with it that counts.
When it was all over, I was happy for David and Mary, and filled with joy knowing that my beloved mother was watching over me. I was happy to share the course with so many, and to join awesome, exhausted runners and walkers with their own stories, and race directors and volunteers at the awards ceremony after the start of the marathon with a fresh group of runners now sharing the course with the 24-hr folks, exhausted but still moving with stories of their own.
Happy with ultra no. 44 at age 67. It was a wonderful day. If you haven't tackled a Sri Chinmoy race in Rockland Lake State Park, I highly recommend It. Here are the results of the 24hr, 12hr, midnight marathon, and sunset half marathon.
You'll share the course with old friends, form new friendships, and share stories during laps and walking breaks.
©2026
I'm also the author of Come What May, I Want to Run: A Memoir of the Saving Grace of Ultrarunning in Overwhelming Times. See more reviews and order your copy here.
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