C's Staging Area

This was my second year attending Wild Woman, and I had such a positive experience in 2024 that I encouraged two friends to sign up this year. One joined me in person; the other still paid despite having to cancel last minute. That’s how highly I spoke of this event.

The race is held on gorgeous private land in Trout Lake, WA, with peaceful camping, stunning Mount Adams views, and a heartfelt sense of community. It’s clear the organizers pour real care into every detail. This year’s upgrades- including a new registration platform, high quality long sleeve shirts, free Arcteryx sock voucher, and a swap from last year’s burrito bar (which ran out before ultra finishers finished) to all-you-can-eat wood-fired pizza until 3:30pm, a tall large tent shelter with fireplaces- felt thoughtful and refined. These event directors/property owners are wonderful, caring people who have generously put this event on for 14 years. I’d recommend it at least once.

But one post-race interaction this year left me feeling embarrassed and unwelcome.. especially as someone with medical dietary needs trying to fuel responsibly after a very long effort.

I have a dairy allergy. Initially, I packed my own food, assuming I wouldn’t be able to participate in the communal meal. There are no open restaurants nearby. But the night before the race, I asked if cheese alternative was an option and the pizza vendor kindly assured they could make me a cheeseless meat pizza if requested (the overall format was they cooked 3 pizzas at any given time while taking requests, then placing the fresh sliced cheese pizza on the buffet table). This felt like a small miracle.

After running 17.5 miles instead of 13 due to unclear course markings (I followed the red-and-white flags on the right, as instructed), I was soaked, cold, exhausted, and grateful to eat something safe. At the finish, a volunteer initially said I must have taken a wrong turn, but then acknowledged many runners had done the same. I later heard several women, many doing their first half marathon, mention they ran 14.5-17.5 miles and were unsure whether to speak up.

I stood in line for 20 minutes immediately post race and even let a guest of another runner rudely cut in front of me. I then ordered my pre-approved, no-cheese meat pizza (the only protein-based option I could eat), and was offered to have it boxed. Hallelujah! I ate six slices immediately, all of which I’d planned for, given my medical needs, extreme hunger and extended race distance— all under the banner of “all you can eat.”

As I walked away, one of the property owners pulled me aside in front of other guests and said, “We’re not really doing whole pizzas, so make sure you leave a big tip.” I said, “Understood,” and kept walking. But he followed up, louder: “It’s just that we’re all standing in line here for pizza.” I felt suddenly corrected and scrutinized, even though I had followed instructions, planned ahead, and tried to be less burdensome by not going back through the line multiple times for custom slices. Vegans can’t eat a cheeseless meat, and dairy eaters aren’t going to want a cheeseless pizza.

I later tipped $10 as instructed and apologized profusely to the property owner, even though others were not required to tip for eating unlimited cheesy pizza (included in the race fee and offered freely to guests of runners, too). I also apologized to the vendor who looked surprised and reiterated that they didn’t mind accommodating my allergy/hunger. A volunteer nearby then said, “There’s no line now if you want another slice,” and I had to explain loudly that I couldn’t eat cheese. Well-meaning or not, I felt deeply othered in a setting meant to celebrate women and inclusion.

What added to the sting was that earlier in the event, an ultramarathoner guest speaker had spoken beautifully about body image, proper fueling, and honoring your body’s needs as a female athlete. I felt proud for taking that message to heart, only to be publicly corrected for doing exactly what I thought we were being encouraged to do: eat enough, with confidence, and without shame.

There was no signage or instruction that allergy-safe pizzas should be arranged for pickup at a specific time. And asking someone with a medical restriction to stand in line multiple times for 1–2 slices of special-order food (while unable to eat either the cheeseless vegetable -no protein- or cheesy meat options-allergy) doesn’t reduce line burden, it increases it.

This tapped into a painful pattern for me. As someone in recovery from an eating disorder, I’ve lived through too many moments where my safe food made me feel like a burden- where I brought my own meal, was asked to share it, and left without enough. I thought I’d grown past those days by advocating for myself, planning ahead, and showing up prepared. But being publicly corrected like I’d done something wrong reopened an old wound. Sure, if every contestant ordered their own cheese pizza the line WOULD be long, but I can’t eat cheese (so they were going to cook me a custom meat pie anyway) and was not being needlessly greedy after burning 3000 calories in the cold rain.

I brought no friends or family who might add to the food headcount, only paying guests. I brought my own toilet paper, wipes, and extra electrolytes to share. My friend helped a new runner from out of town with recovery tips and spared her some KT tape. I skipped the potluck due to my allergy and genuinely wanted to be a tidy, conscientious guest.

That’s why being called out like I was gaming the system felt jarring. I know the intent wasn’t to shame, but I wasn’t given the benefit of the doubt. I followed the guidance I was given with my allergy and protein needs, advocated for myself in a way that felt brave, and still ended up feeling like an inconvenience.

The Wild Woman race has so many beautiful aspects, and I’m still grateful for the work behind it. But between the course confusion, cold camping conditions, and being publicly corrected for managing a medical need at an all-you-can-eat event, I no longer feel comfortable returning.

If the food isn’t truly unlimited, or if guests with allergies are expected to eat separately or tip extra, that should be clearly communicated in advance to both runners and vendors. Otherwise, guests like me who plan ahead, contribute positively, and run far longer than expected end up feeling shamed for taking care of themselves.

I left this incident in tears, sitting in my car, feeling like I’d been mischaracterized as greedy or disruptive when all I did was advocate for a safe meal after nearly six hours of running.

Next year, I’ll likely just run local trails with my friends because I’m too embarrassed to return, recover at home, and enjoy a meal I can trust. I very much understand the stress and logistics of planning a large event but I absorbed the shame/correction publicly, not the vendor nor event planners and certainly not the guest line-cutters who weren’t even paying attendees.

The course ferries from beautiful Kirkland waterfront homes to a tree-lined running trail which leads eventually through the Google campus, some hills and some roadside running with more gorgeous trees and occasional water views. This was my first half marathon ever and it was so much fun. They even had police blocking off the street so it felt safe from car traffic or anything like that.
Great medal and production.