Out and Back

In 2017, world-class ultrarunner Hillary Allen was at the top of her sport--and it felt like she was running on top of the world as she competed in Norway's Tromsø Skyrace. Allen was nearly halfway through the 50-kilometer race when she fell 150 feet off an exposed ridge, fracturing her back and breaking multiple ribs, both feet, and both of her lower arms. Beginning with the dramatic story of her accident and rescue, Out and Back: A Runner's Story of Survival Against All Odds recounts Allen's fight to return to the life she loves. With vulnerability that reveals remarkable strength and introspection that yields wisdom, Allen shares the story of her recovery both physically and mentally, and hard-earned knowledge that the path forward is not always linear, that healing takes time, and that the process of rediscovery is ongoing as she learns what it takes to survive--and thrive. Out and Back is an inspiration to anyone who knows what it means to reclaim and rebuild your life, one day and one step at a time.

"Powerful and affecting. Hillary is an indomitable force." —Dean Karnazes, ultramarathoner and NY Times bestselling author

“Hillary’s story of tragedy and triumphant return will inspire you.” —Jason Koop, Head Coach for CTS-Ultrarunning, author of Training Essentials for Ultrarunning

"Hillary's story is blunt, raw, honest, and yet very positive and inspiring. I think anyone going through a rough time (accident, injury, depression, or simply just a low spot) would benefit from reading about Hillary's experience and how she was able to work her way back. The steps (both literally and figuratively) she took, mental challenges she overcame, and the new outlook she gained." —Gina Lucrezi, Professional ultra trail runner and founder of trailsisters.net

“Hillary Allen takes readers along an exciting and harrowing journey as she passionately tells her story about how she achieved enormous success, overcame a near-death experience and then worked extremely hard to once again reach the mountaintop of success. Not only does she tell her story with fervor, but she also provides cues for the hard work, tenacity and authenticity that has always defined her.” —Brian Metzler, Founding Editor of Trail Running Magazine

"Hillary Allen is a model of resilience, grit, and strength who I look toward when I'm struggling to find those things in myself. The story she's lived and the message she shares are important reminders to control what you can control, keep calm in the face of chaos, and dig deep when the next step feels impossible." —Mario Fraioli, host of podcast *The Morning Shakeout

"It wasn’t her innate passion and talent for running that brought out the best version of professional athlete Hillary Allen. Rather, it was the horrific accident she experienced whiledoing it that did. By so candidly chronicling her recovery in *Out and Back, Allen teaches us all that the progress of life isn’t measured by one’s physical transit through time or space but instead by the inner journey that accompanies us." —Meghan M. Hicks, managing editor, iRunFar.com

Auteur
Hillary Allen is from Fort Collins, Colorado. She grew up in an outdoorsy and scientific family who not only encouraged her to pursue a career in science but also in sport. She earned a master's degree in neuroscience and physiology and structural biology from the University of Colorado. During her graduate studies, Hillary also discovered trail running and ultra-running. Her passion for the outdoors quickly led to success on the trails where she became a sponsored mountain runner for The North Face. Along with her professional running and racing career, Hillary also teaches chemistry, biology, anatomy and physiology part-time at a small college outside of Boulder, Colorado. She also coaches other runners, again using her love of athletics and her physiology background.

Résumé
This book recounts the author's fight to overcome injury and return to the life she loves as a world-class ultrarunner.

Échantillon de lecture
After my accident, I was thankful to be alive, surprised even, but that wasn’t the only emotion I experienced. I was also angry. Really angry. Why was I alive? Why did this happen to me? With all my technical experience and knowledge of the mountains, my skill level and expertise, why did this accident happen to me? I was at the top of my sport, the best in the world, and this happened to me?!

I was bitter. Confused. Running had made me feel whole and complete. And it had been ripped away from me in an instant, with just one small step. Why me? I couldn’t answer that question, which infuriated me even more. The potential end of my career loomed large—and it was something I was unwilling to accept or admit.

As a professional athlete, I had built a career on being capable, strong, and competent in my own body. And I excelled because I had always been such a strong-willed, “do-it-yourself” person. If I wanted to buy something I couldn’t afford, I’d get a second job (or a third), until I got what I wanted. If I didn’t get the grade I desired on a test (usually anything less than 100 percent), I’d spend more time studying until I mastered every inch of the material. That’s how I approached life, and it’s how I approached being an athlete too.

I’ve never been someone who desired the easy way out. I value hard work, and I believe that if I don’t get the outcome I want, it’s because I didn’t work hard enough. This ethic has value. It creates a sense of accomplishment after working hard to achieve a job well done—especially since I made it happen myself. But that internal validation and pride in my ability to do everything myself became an obstacle as I faced new challenges in my recovery.

Not only was I frustrated by my inability to work my way out of my current predicament, I was also upset over my loss of independence. I couldn’t do anything myself. Remember, I had broken fourteen bones: five ribs, vertebrae L4 and L5 in my back, both feet (multiple bones in each), and both bones in both of my arms. To say I was limited is an understatement. Of course, I couldn’t do everything myself; I needed help, and lots of it.

I required a constant chaperone and people to check in on me. Each morning I woke up and enjoyed the solitude for a few sweet moments as I did an assessment of my body. I looked over all my casts and cuts. Yep, I’m still injured, I’d think to myself. Then I would take a deep breath as I read the messages on my phone, preparing myself for the day to come.