Running the Whole Island: Avalon 50 Miles

Two years ago, I ran the Avalon 50/50 and did the 50K. It was a beautiful race on Santa Catalina Island, and I loved every bit of it. But the whole time, I kept hearing about the 50-mile course — how it takes you through parts of the island that are normally off-limits to the public, covering nearly the entire island. That thought stayed with me.

So this year, I came back for the 50 miles.

The Doubt

Let me be honest: I was afraid. The cutoff for the 50-miler is 12 hours, which felt aggressive to me. Fifty miles with over 7,000 feet of elevation gain on an island, in 12 hours? I kept doing the math in my head and it always felt tight.

Then, while standing in line to pick up my bib, I looked around. Everyone seemed super fit. Lean, strong, race-vest-wearing, no-nonsense runners. I was pretty intimidated.

The Early Start

The race offers a 1-hour early start option, and of course I took it. Starting at 4:00 AM instead of 5:00 AM — I’d take every extra minute I could get.

What pleasantly surprised me was how many runners showed up for the early start. I wasn’t alone out there in the dark. There was a whole group of us, headlamps bobbing along the trail as the sky slowly began to lighten.

The Course

The official course is simply stunning. Mostly jeep roads and dirt paths — nothing overly technical — which lets you actually look up and take in the views instead of staring at your feet the whole time.

And what views they are. Endless Pacific blue stretching to the horizon, rugged green hills rolling down to rocky coves, and the feeling that you’re on this remote little world all by yourself. The 50-mile course really does take you through parts of the island that you just can’t normally access, and that alone made the extra distance worth it.

The island was incredibly green — January is a beautiful time out there. Between the ocean on one side and the lush hills on the other, I kept catching myself smiling even when my legs were complaining.

The Low Point: Mile 35

Everything was going reasonably well until around mile 35, when my hip flexor started acting up. Not a sharp injury kind of pain, but the dull, grinding kind that gets louder with every step. I must have been visibly showing it, because the sweeper truck pulled up alongside me.

“Are you doing okay?” the driver asked.

“I think I’m going to be okay,” I said with a smile.

But there was another voice in my head: Oh Naoko, it would be so heavenly easy to just get on that truck. The sweeper picks up runners who miss the aid station cutoffs, and here it was, right next to me, offering the most comfortable ride back to the finish.

That voice went away quickly though. I didn’t come all the way back to Catalina Island to ride in a truck.

The Finish

I finished in 11 hours and 48 minutes — under the 12-hour cutoff. No injury. I can’t tell you how happy I was.

My Garmin logged 50.18 miles with 7,094 feet of elevation gain, which lines up pretty closely with the official course map. Always nice when the watch and the race agree.

Crossing that finish line in Avalon, with spectators cheering and the ocean right behind me, I felt nothing but gratitude. Grateful that my body held up, grateful for every aid station volunteer, and grateful I didn’t get on that truck.

After the Race

The best part about finishing a race on Catalina Island? You’re already on vacation. Post-race dinner was well-earned and delicious.

Walking around Avalon that evening was kind of a cute scene — most of the people on the island were limping. You’d see someone hobbling out of a restaurant and just give each other that knowing nod. We were all in the same boat (or rather, the same limp).

The next morning, all the runners gathered for a group photo before heading back to the mainland. Looking at all those smiling faces, knowing what we’d all just been through, was a pretty special moment.

Looking Back

The Avalon 50/50 is one of those races that just does everything right. The course is breathtaking, the volunteers are incredible, and getting to explore nearly the entire island on foot is a privilege you can’t get any other way. If you’ve done the 50K and you’re on the fence about stepping up to the 50 miles — do it. Yes, the cutoff feels tight. Yes, you’ll be intimidated at the start line. But once you’re out there on that island, running through places most people will never see, it all makes sense.

Would I do it again? In a heartbeat.