A marathon run without the bother of bib numbers.

run ultramarathons because I am lazy. Although there are terrific trails near where I live, mostly I run from my door, on the same tired route, seeing the same tired sights. I don’t like to get in the car to drive to a trailhead. I don’t like to have to figure out where to go or how to get there. I like to be able to stuff some bills down my running bra and stop, if necessary, to buy a candy bar and a bottle of water.

The reason I am happy to pay hefty race entry fees is that I never want to worry about the organizational stuff. I don’t want any part of charting a course. I prefer not to carry my own water. I like to be fed. When I go hiking with my Sherpa—I mean, boyfriend—I tote nothing. I like not having to think and just being able to run.

Last summer I was invited on what has to be one of the top-five runs of my life. Friends in Missoula, Montana, less lazy than I, planned a 26-plus-mile route through the Bitterroot Mountains. There were a whole bunch of e-mails with a little bit of organizational information in them and a lot of witticisms. When the jokes got to a point where there was talk about dancing girls, my friend Lisa decided that I should be included. I said that if they let me come with them, I would run in bunny ears and a bikini. They invited me nevertheless.

The Great 2010 Trans-Bitterroot run was possible because the right group of people came together.

What do you need to make a long, unsupported trail run happen?

You need the idea person. Someone who has imagination and is willing to do research and reconnaissance to figure out where to go. A Big Idea person, like me, will not suffice. I am known to say things like, “Let’s do a run through Yosemite” or “How about a run in the Grand Canyon?” That’s about as much planning as I can do. It’s the equivalent of saying, “Someone should come up with dishes that wash themselves.” You need someone who can read topo maps,

estimate distances, and be a little obsessive. Accountants are good for this—especially accountants named Norm.

Then you need an organizational genius. If you’re doing a point-topoint run, how do you get the cars from the start to the finish? Someone needs to keep everyone apprised of plans and logistics (and determine who gets invited). Leadership skills,

a staff, and access to resources are essential. Real estate developers are good at this—especially if, like Rick, they have not only an MBA but also an MFA in poetry. There’s poetry in good organization.

Someone has to keep the energy level high. Crazy, perky, tough chicks— my friend Lisa, say—who whoop and holler their way down the trail, whose chatter, loud and incessant and relentlessly upbeat, adds a soundtrack, a buzz of upbeat music. If she is training to be a physician’s

assistant and can clean up wounds, that’s an added benefit.

Defense lawyers rationalize their work by saying that everyone is entitled to a defense. This generous and accepting attitude is important on the trail. Everyone needs someone to run with, so those who are willing to adjust their pace, their conversation, and their demeanor to give others what they need are useful. (Prostitutes would be good at this as well.) Kevin is a most accommodating lawyer.

Then there’s the person, usually someone like Dean with a PhD in something like higher education, who brings the conversation down to the lowest, grossest level. He will teach you terms for things that you couldn’t imagine anyone would

ever want to do to anyone else. He will instigate