Like many active New Yorkers, Chrissie Evans loves to spend her weekends outside, running shoes on her feet, basking in the glow of the warm, spring sunshine. But this 32-year-old doesn’t just go for jogs—she goes for marathons. An ultrarunner, Evans logs hours upon hours of running per month, all in preparation for races that have her covering up to 150 miles by fleeted foot over the course of mere days.  

Ten years ago, Evans may have been all alone in her extra-long distance pursuits. But today, there are scores of runners, bikers, swimmers, and triathletes jumping onto the ultra trend, once considered an obscure pastime for adrenaline junkies and masochists. Numbers in ultramarathons (any race covering more than 26.2 miles), ultratriathlons (double and triple the standard Ironman distance), adventure races and long-distance cycling and open-water swimming events have skyrocketed in the past decade. These races are especially popular among overachieving or uber-adventuresome athletes—including some New Yorkers—who are ready to accomplish more than “just” Ironmans, marathons, and century rides (and don’t mind spending hours—or sometimes days—outside with little food and no shower in sight). 

Take Christopher Bergland, for example. The initial romance and mystery that drew this Manhattan resident into Ironman triathlons became less intriguing after about seven races in three years. So he sought out the next step—a double Ironman (4.8-mile swim, 224-mile bike and 52.4-mile run), and then some. Within the next decade, he’d win the Triple Ironman race (7.2-mile swim, 336-mile bike, 78.6-mile run) three times, place fourth at the Kiehl’s Badwater Ultramarathon, and post a world record for the number of miles run on a treadmill in 24 hours. “The Ironman became a day in the office. The longer events seemed to be much more of a primal experience,” says Bergland, now 40 and the author of The Athlete's Way: Sweat and the Biology of Bliss out in paperback this June. “You’re out there with nature on your own, under the stars. It’s a non-stop adrenaline rush.”

Evans was similarly enchanted by the ultrarunning scene. With a narrow, lithe frame and a shock of short, platinum blonde hair, Evans has the physique—and the style—to go with her extreme sport of choice. Always active as a kid, Evans took up triathlons when she moved to New York from her native Australia 10 years ago. But simply jogging or cycling around Manhattan wasn’t enough for this nutritionist and writer—she eventually jumped into the ultra scene and ran her first 150-mile race without even attempting a marathon first. Today, Evans favors multistage races, which have runners logging anywhere from 26 to 70 miles per day through all types of terrain—from the Sahara desert to the rim of Corsica, Italy. Participants carry their own food and gear (water and tents are provided by race organizers). But, unlike ultra marathons, where runners traverse 50 to 150-mile courses without stopping, multi-stage races have built-in breaks.

“To an ultra purist, I don’t do ultras, since it’s not straight running. There are ultrarunners out there to break records. But the format of multistage races doesn’t lend itself to that,” Evans says. “It’s not as competitive and more about being able to come back the following day and move, or hopefully run on whatever legs you have left from the day before.”

Like Evans, Daniel Aaron, a Long Beach resident who participates in the fast-growing event of randonneuring—multiday long-distance cycling events covering 60 to 750 miles—is in it more for the adventure than the acclaim. In fact, randonneuring (meaning “to hike” in French) was created as a noncompetitive sport, and trophies are rarely awarded to the first cyclist to cross the finish line. Instead, randonneurs, who receive a map at the start of the ride, are simply required to hit designated checkpoints by a certain time; many races last days so riders sometimes stop there to sleep and rest before continuing on to the finish line. “Really, the point is just to cover the miles and gauge your resting time wisely so you reach the checkpoint before cut off,” explains Aaron, a single, 53-year-old anesthesiologist who got into the sport after attending a distance cycling camp in Arizona and subsequently biking across the country. “The competition is with yourself to see if you complete the rides or if you can ride a course faster than the last time.”