Running Toward Possibility: Mother. Psychologist. Ultrarunner. Trailblazer.

Running Toward Possibility: How Alison Roy Reframed Vision Loss, Motherhood, and Ultra Dreams

I met Alison during the Vermont 100 while she was in the porta-potty. You read that correctly but allow me to add some context. Alison was at the same aid station at the same time as the runner I was pacing. This meant that her pacers, Ali and Laura were also there. Ali and Laura have interviewed for our platform and when we ran into each other they said I should interview Alison not because she was a visually impaired ultrarunner but because her story was more than that.

While in the porta-potty, Alison agreed to chat with me and the story below is what came from that conversation. We also thought that Tales from the Porta-Potty might make for a good podcast but I’ll let you determine that!

From Maladaptive Coping to Miles That Heal

Alison Roy didn’t grow up dreaming about finish lines. In fact, she wasn’t even a high school athlete. “A lot of my friends have been running since they were babies,” Alison says. “That was not me.” She first laced up in college, trading in unhealthy stress relievers for something more sustainable. Running became a new way to cope. It was one that didn’t leave bruises on the body or mind.

A few sporadic miles turned into something more consistent when a Boston-qualifying friend in grad school encouraged her to try a half marathon. That nudge would eventually lead Alison to the 100-mile finish line at Vermont and make history doing it.

Life on Three Continents, With Three Kids

If Alison’s running journey sounds a bit all over the place, that’s because it is. “My career with running has been kind of all over the place,” she laughs. Life, as it tends to do, kept interrupting. Three kids, each born on a different continent—Prague, Singapore, and New Hampshire—meant long stretches away from racing and training. But the international experiences helped her build a worldview rooted in adaptability and problem-solving, skills that now serve her in both her work as a psychologist and in her role as an ultrarunner navigating vision loss.

“We were once detained for four hours in Cambodia customs,” she recalls. “And I had to bribe someone in Prague so my husband could be in the delivery room. Those things change how you approach challenges. Like, yeah, I can get through 20 more miles on sore feet.”

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A Diagnosis 15 Years in the Making

Alison’s vision loss began subtly, at age four, then again at 12, but became more aggressive during the stress of her doctoral program. It took 15 years for doctors to diagnose her progressive vision condition, which now severely impacts her central vision. She can no longer read traditional text or recognize people in public. “Over 90% of blind individuals have some vision,” she explains. “It’s a spectrum.”

The diagnosis came in 2020, the same week a rabid coyote attacked her family on a hike. “My husband, Ian, had to strangle the coyote to save us. That was Monday. My diagnosis came Wednesday. COVID hit two weeks later,” she says. “Mentally, it felt like rock bottom.”

A Trail Culture Built on Love and Stubbornness

Despite being told in December she’d “never run again” due to knee injuries, Alison finished the Vermont 100 miler seven months later and didn’t just finish. She became the first visually impaired woman to do so, set the course record, and placed third in her age group among non-adaptive athletes. “I used to say, ‘I got third in my age group,’ instead of mentioning the course record,” she admits. “It’s taken some reframing, but I’m learning to celebrate both.”

She credits Vermont’s inclusive environment and the encouragement of race director Amy, who also guided her during the race. “Pinning that blind bib on for the first time was huge,” Alison says. “It was Amy saying, ‘Are you sure you don’t want the help you need?’ That moment changed everything for me.”

The support of race directors will lead to more stories of adaptive athletes, not just visually impaired ultrarunners, being shared. Removing the stigma and the gatekeeping will allow many to thrive in our sports. Alison is a great leader and role model in making this a movement.

The Family That Hikes Together…

Running isn’t just Alison’s thing, it’s a family affair. She and Ian are raising three “little endurance athletes,” and they’ve already completed 42 of New Hampshire’s 48 4,000-foot peaks. “They’ve done the Z Bond traverse which is 19 miles and 5,000 feet of gain in under 9 hours with us,” she says proudly. “We’re hoping they’ll crew or pace us one day, but honestly, we’ll probably be crewing for them.”

Their household is built around movement, love, and the idea that limitations are often self-imposed. “Kids are only limited by what we tell them they can’t do,” Alison says. “We want them to see us doing hard things and figuring out how to do them, not saying we can’t.”

Smart Training, Cranky Knees, and One Big Dream

Even with a cranky knee and fading vision, Alison’s not done. Far from it. She’s chasing a sub-24 hour 100-miler and eyeing the Wild Horse 200 in Wales with Ian. The dream? Western States 100, though with 20,000 to 1 odds, she’s also advocating for adaptive athlete categories at more big races.

“I got a two-hour PR at Vermont, so of course I think, ‘Can I go back and do it again but faster?’” she says with a grin. “Or maybe go find another course record to chase.”

Not “Inspiring” ….. Capable

Alison hesitated to wear the blind bib because of how people often respond. “We get a lot of ‘you’re so inspiring,’” she says. “I hope people are inspired because of who I am and what I’ve done and not just because I have a bib that says I’m blind.”

She wants races to celebrate adaptive athletes without making them feel like charity cases. “I’m not good at asking for help,” she says. “But when it’s openly offered and celebrated, it’s easier to accept. That’s the shift the sport needs.”

As a visually impaired ultrarunner her story is one of many that needs to be told so that others can be inspired and motivated to chase their finish lines.

Mantras That Move Her

“I can and I will.”
“I get to run.”
“I cannot stop.”
“My body can do amazing things.”

These are the mantras that carry Alison through both races and life with vision loss. “Running helps me feel capable when my eyes make me feel the opposite,” she says. “There’s a lot of guilt and shame when you can’t recognize someone or read something important. But on the trail? I’m powerful again.”

What She’d Tell the Next Alison

For the woman running her first half marathon or the person losing their vision: just keep moving.

“Start with small steps,” she says. “Shift your mindset from ‘I have to’ to ‘I get to.’ That changed everything for me. And if you think you’ve hit the bottom? Push toward something that brings you joy.”

Because Alison Roy isn’t just running 100 miles. She’s showing all of us what’s possible even when the world tells you otherwise.

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