After 24 hours, they cross the finish line

In 2007, daily jogger Anne Mahlum noticed homeless guys outside the Sunday Breakfast Rescue Mission near 13th and Vine Streets during early-morning six- and seven-mile runs.

Mahlum, a 26-year-old transplant from North Dakota, believed the repetition and discipline of running helped her through personal crises. She thought: Why not them? She called the shelter to organize jogs for those willing to pound the pavement three mornings a week at 6 a.m. All they had to do was one mile.

From those humble beginnings Mahlum launched a non-profit, Back on My Feet, now with branches in seven other U.S. cities, and the annual fund-raiser, Lone Ranger Ultra Marathon, in which participants test their endurance – and the durability of their knees and ankles – to see how many miles they can run in a 24-hour period on an 8.4-mile loop along the Schuylkill River.

On Sunday morning the base of operations was a tent city near Lloyd Hall on Boathouse Row, with cheers greeting runners who passed a timing station and added another loop to their tally.

By 9 a.m., the ultra-marathoners had run for 23 hours through pouring rain, humidity, blisters, cramps, broken toenails, nausea and chafing.

"If I could coat myself with motor oil I would," said Carl Ford, a 42-year-old engineer from Washington who was walking toward the finish line and a completed 101.45 miles. He lifted up his arms to show raw skin.

"I am done; stick a fork in me," he said, adding that he was pleased with his performance.

Runners were physically exhausted and realized they were not likely to complete another loop before 10 a.m., the official end of the ultra-marathon.

"It's brutal. It beats you up and it takes weeks to recover," said Tim Buzby, 45, of Mullica Hill. He stopped after 118.3 miles at 9:35 a.m. "I think it's my last one."

Minutes later, he walked to a chair, his arms draped over two people for support.

Yukiko Kato, 45, of Germantown, traversed 84.5 miles. "The key is to walk and run and walk and run and walk," she said. "The rain (on Saturday) was bad, but the weather was cooler so people could go farther."

Unique for an ultra-marathon because it's held in a city as opposed to rugged terrain, the location had its benefits for Kato, who returned home after about 11 hours to soak in ice and to nap. She returned to the ultra-marathon in the middle of the night to complete an additional four loops.

By 10 a.m. Sunday, the world treadmill record-holder, Serge Arbona, 47, of Parkville, Md., had broken a Lone Ranger course record with 154.75 miles over 24 hours. The top woman runner was Sabrina Moran, 26, of Sussex, N.J., with 135.3 miles.

Gene Dykes, 64, of Bala Cynwyd, had covered 84.56 miles. "It's the longest I've done in a week, let alone a day," Dykes said when he stopped, looking surprisingly refreshed.

Mahlum, a former director of marketing for the Committee of Seventy, a government watchdog group, said she expected to raise $300,000 for the charity. Runners can pay an entrance fee or they can have people sponsor them.

Not only was there a marathon, there also were other runs, including the Pajama Loop Run on Sunday morning.

Back on My Feet works with 500 individuals in about 50 homeless shelters in Philadelphia, Indianapolis, Boston, Washington, Atlanta, Chicago, Dallas and New York, Mahlmud said. The non-profit's website describes its mission as engaging homeless "in running as a means to build confidence, strength and self-esteem."

After an individual shows commitment to running for 30 days, they can enter the "Next Steps" part of the program that entails job training, education and financial aid. Jill Fink, an executive director for the nonprofit in Philadelphia, said that running shows individuals are "making a commitment of moving forward."