The wild paths of one who would run 100 miles [An ode to the wild ones]
The joy of weaving your own creative path through this wild life
Have you ever caught a wild idea? You know, one of those thought forms that capture your mind and enrapture your heart and send you flying down a path of no return from which it nearly becomes impossible to speak to other humans again in a language that fully captures what on Earth is actually alive within?!
I have. And this tale is one that attempts to touch upon this with a thoroughness that I don’t often bring enough depth to in my writings.
A note to the reader: This is one of the longer pieces I have written. Within holds a desire to speak freely of my wild weavings that exist within my love for planet earth and my fierce athleticism that drives me to push myself towards outrageous physical achievements.
Within exists this expression along with one particularly special trail running report from one great day in my home Sangre de Cristo Mountains in June 2024.
How it serves, I can’t be sure. Only to express a longing to be understood from one who most often finds herself unable to explain the complex weavings of an ultramarathoner and lover of this planet earth to a boxed in world.
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Invocation
For Earth: in all your spectacular and radiant forms -
With this one life, how much can I possibly get to know you?
How deep can I come to know you?
How vast can I come to know you?
For Earth, in all your beautiful forms -
I know, I only have this life to live,
and time is short.
So let me ask:
How can I take in as much as possible?
How can I see,
and breathe,
and touch,
and let my heart beat with as much as possible?
How can I drink in,
and be filled,
with as much of your beauty and grace and wild nature as possible?
Have you ever caught a wild idea? You know, one of those thought forms that capture your mind and enrapture your heart and send you flying down a path of no return from which it nearly becomes impossible to speak to other humans again in a language that fully captures what on Earth is actually alive within?!
This is what happened years ago when, off on a backpacking trip through the Weminuche Wilderness of Southwest Colorado, my heart ignited with a fire.
You see, I’d been invited by a dear and lifelong friend of mine to escape (just for a week) from my life in Phoenix, AZ and to embark upon a sort of trip that I’d never really imagined before! 100 miles. That’s what it entailed: 7 days and 100 miles through the deep wilderness along the Continental Divide.
I hardly had to think before the answer was resounding through me. I mean, I certainly had thoughts about why I shouldn’t do it. It’s insane, right? Two 22 year old girls heading off into the deep wilderness on a trail that is lightly travelled. A whole week off the grid carrying everything we need on our backs as we’d weave up and down one mountain pass after the next, spending much time above tree line and the entirety of this time far from vehicle access!
Again, it’s important to mention that my heart resounded a full fledged YES the moment the opportunity arose. It was simply my head that I had to get on board so that I could actually get in my vehicle and drive the 7 hours to Wolf Creek Pass outside of Pagosa Springs.
This is where, all parts of self convinced, I’d finally begin those steps that would change it all for me.
Backpacking 100 miles is a story worth sharing. It’s worth sharing the absolute beauty and awe and splendor and dazzling and amazement and all the bright and shiny descriptors of a heart being ignited by the beauty of the San Juan Mountains. Alas, that’s not really the story for today.
What I do wish to speak of is what happened after.
That is, what follows once a young heart is taken by the depths of the most beautiful and magical of Earth’s beauties? What happens once a young heart has struck a resonant chord with a song that is begging and pleading to be sung!
I returned to my life in Phoenix, Arizona. I did what I was supposed to do. I finished my degrees, got a job in corporate as an engineer, put all the pieces of my life together as I should…
Meanwhile, the mountains would call,
And the forests would whisper,
And the ghosts of bright pink and orange and yellow wildflowers would flash through my vision,
And the song of the crystal clear waters winding their way through the greenest of grasses would pierce my soul,
And the silence of the crystal clear waters of the alpine lake would echo.
Every summer I would go back to them. My brief time off allotted only a few days each season, and I did my very best to immerse myself as deeply as possible in her magnificence:
How many peaks can I possibly summit in 3 days?
How many wildflowers can I possibly cast my gaze upon?
How many alpine lakes can I witness?
How much ground can I cover to be with as much of this land as possible!
Time, not on my side, I needed a… something. I needed something! Please, anything, to help me hold as much of this as is possible!
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Have you heard of the wild ones? Those who, having been captured by the wild earth spirits, and who, holding some incomprehensible desire for achievement, would do it all in a day? One push: 100 miles. Start moving your feet. Don’t stop. 100 miles. Up and down one mountain after the next. No sleep. Don’t stop. Keep moving. One push. 100 miles. Let’s go.
I didn’t go straight to running 100 milers. No, that sort of experience lay low as a seed planted deep within, far below any conscious thought or expectation.
No, my journey into ultra running started out “small”: First a 50k. Then another.
Then I wanted to run back and forth across the Grand Canyon: 50 miles. There and back again.
After that it was 100K.
But goddess no! Not a 100 miles! I’m not that wild!
Present day
I am reflecting on all that happened as I sit in absolute fatigue having just completed a 20 mile training run. My Strava tells me I burned 2800 calories in those 6 hours. How is that even possible? My mind doesn’t compute this journey I am on. It doesn’t need to.
I am tired. But wow! Do I feel full.
Full.
That is, of joy.
Of accomplishment.
Of awe.
Of so much love and devotion to the endless depths and beauty and wonder of this Planet Earth!
Joy. And love. And devotion.
This, combined with whatever song it is in me that yearns for accomplishment on a grander and grander scale…
This is what leads me to cast my gaze on what is to be my second 100 miler in these upcoming weeks.
Yes, I am one of the wild ones: those captured by the spirit of this Planet Earth, Herself, on a quest to be with as much of her land as possible; as often as possible.
Yes, I am one of the wild ones: those who long for fulfillment to pierce my depths, and have found that the best way to do this is to be out with Her, pushing my own limits as I test and expand my capabilities time and time again.
As I test and expand my capabilities - those that call upon my body and mind and spirit and soul! - time and time again.
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I know. They say a girl shouldn’t brag. Be humble.
Okay. I will be humble... tomorrow. As for today, I feel strength in a way that surges through me in a great song of, fuck yea, those wild ideas sure lead to some deeply joyful and fulfilling spaces!
And I love it! Oh, how I just love it!
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With this, my mind flashed to earlier today. I am sitting on the shores of the most beautiful scene I could possibly imagine. A scene which, I could say, I’ve now seen dozen after dozen of times: An alpine lake. The backdrop of the mountains towering up above reflects in the smooth and crystal clear waters.
The scene could take place in any number of my memories. On my journeys through the mountains I have been honored to find my way to a grand number of alpine lakes.
The scene takes place in any number of my memories. Except, each lake; each peak; each forest; they are not just memories. They are realities: moments that have been lived and felt in experience unique to my own wild unfolding stories from the trails; gifted with the truest of gifts that is connection with this most beautiful form of Earth’s treasures.
Come, look closely and peer through the crystal clarity of these waters to the Earth below. Now raise your gaze, and witness how those waters reflect the magnificence of the lands around Her.
Come, listen to the stories of how I wound my way up here, and of each of those steps that continued to unfold from here as I listened and followed along to the curious and wild desires of my own heart - a heart in connection to this one great gem that is Planet Earth.
In this regard - no, this scene couldn’t be anything else except for the splendor that landed in this precise moment: Landing on the eyes and ears and heart and soul of one the wild ones who, after running out and back to summit a far off peak in these lands, decided to make another turn, head up another trail on a second ascent to receive the blessings of this one special lake.
A second ascent for the day… and later, a third.
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The journey:
The moment I started the climb up to this lake, I knew this moment was special. You see, I’ve passed by this lake a great number of times; although, never have I stepped foot on her shores. Sometimes I am down below, running along the trail that crosses the creek 1,000 feet below the lake. Other times I am up above, carefully taking each step across the mountain tops as I move my body along the steep cliffs that drop out and create the walls of her far shore.
Earlier this morning, it’s the trail below that I found myself upon…
The main trail through this forest is a fabulous one to fly across. Weaving up and down and around through one grove after the next, the miles tick off quickly as the flow brings me through a changing forest.
See, here, the aspens are thickest! Their eyes shine through the whitest of bark as the bright green leaves call my gaze up high.
Ah, but see here: just around this bend in the trail, the ancient pines take over. You feel that? Perhaps, if you just look a little closer at the moss that drapes across their branches, or place your hand upon their brittle bark, you can know the ancient soul that shines through.
Oh, but see now. The aspens are shining through again, and their weavings with the ancients are illuminated as the sun just starts to pierce through. Now the very ground itself is coming to life, the rich layer of moss cut through by the sprouting of the early summer grasses.
I am still flying through the forest, each step taking me into another moment of the deepest of joy and splendor. Flying, my mind can’t catch up with each interaction, and all that is left is to allow myself to be immersed in the great all as each moment comes and goes.
Flying through this ancient forest, each moment comes and goes.
I allow myself to be filled.
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I hear her before I see her. Her rumble begins with a quiet echo, and she grows in power as I come closer.
I know her well, for I have crossed her many times. Each time, on my great dance through the forest, I make sure to stop. Pausing, I allow her full presence to take over this great dance.
To call her a stream seems untrue. She is no great river, but the power of her rushing crystal clear and cool waters takes over. Perhaps, a waterfall would be a better name. For the water is indeed falling, dropping down from the heights up above in the high peaks to descend down into the valley far below where she will, at some moment, meet up with and become one with The Rio Grande.
Today she is raging in her full splendor. The peaks up above hold the last of the season’s snow, and the heat of the day brings a melting that allows her to pour forth a power that words fall far short of touching.
Breathing into this moment, I feel my feet placed solidly on the rock I am perched on. I have stopped midway across: my favorite vantage to soak her in as I allow my heart to open wide; and to pour… to pour forth my own love and joy and devotion into all that is here. I ask this sweet river to take this love with her as she journeys down and through and around and ends up wherever it is she’ll find herself.
I don’t know how long I stand here. In one moment, it’s all I can ask for the day to be gifted with the joy that is standing here, receiving the sound and cold touch of these waters. Alas, at some moment, I take off to fulfill the primary duty of the day: A Santa Fe Baldy Summit. 13 miles round trip - one that I have made enough times that I have now lost count!
The last melting of the winter snow means that it is just now time to begin summitting peaks. It only makes sense that Baldy is the first of the season: the amount of time I have spent staring out my window at her bald head that pierces treeline from my home in the mountains across the Rio Grande Valley… well, that amount of time would seem absurd; until we remember that I am, indeed, a wild one.
I’ve spent all winter and spring gazing, remembering the handful of ascents from last summer season. Now, with the last of the snow up high melting off, it’s time to make the journey!
It’s 13 miles round trip to make the 12,632 foot summit. Except, I don’t quite make the full trip! I do, indeed, summit, and I do begin the return trip. However, on the return back to the car, I find myself rooted once more on the same creek/waterfall crossing as spoken to prior. Once more the rushing of the crystal waters pierces all the way through, and it’s on this day that the piercing touches something within me in a way I have not experienced before!
I know these waters pour from the alpine lake up above, and I recognize that, given this growing number of crossings, I have yet to actually make the ascent up to meet her!
I check my watch. Three miles back to the car and I could be done with my 13 mile out and back. Doesn’t seem fitting.
I look towards the skies. Seems like the storm clouds might be holding off. I check in with my legs: yea, they’ve still got some juice. A second climb it is!
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To tell the tale of the journey up to Nambe Lake seems like a spoiler for one of Earth’s sacred acts. Alas, I’ll leave out the details, only to note that this is one of those moments where the journey, indeed, is all about the climb. The waterfall that I have crossed many times does not exist at one point in space, but lives as a long cascade, coming into form through a number of smaller waterfalls (each their own creation worth greeting); and, all-the-while, a constant cascade of water down the most lively of rock forms.
Again, you’ll have to take the journey, yourself, to truly understand.
As I was saying, this is one of those moments where the journey, indeed, is all about the climb. Until, that is, you reach the destination, and the lake comes into view, and one’s heart is allowed to fill as it expands out and sings in full hallelujah with the splendor.
Come, look closely and peer through the crystal clarity of these waters to the Earth below. Now raise your gaze, and witness how those waters reflect the magnificence of the lands around Her.
See the way the mountain wraps around the far shore? See the way the mountain reflects off her crystal surface?
See the way the rocks frame her distant shore?
See the way those rocks leads up to the high peak up above!
See the high peak?
See the high peak??
I see the high peak, along with the ridgeline that connects the peak to the trail to my right. I know that trail; just as I know the ridgeline; just as I know the peak.
While I have never stepped foot at this lake, I have stepped foot on more than one occasion on the peak up above.
Don’t get confused with the story now! This is not the same peak from earlier today! That peak lives miles to the north. This is a different peak! There are many peaks in this land! So many mountains to climb!!! Here, on this day, can it be that all the mountains are mine to climb?
I check my watch. I am at 17 miles. Climbing this next peak would require descending 1,000(?) feet back down to the main trail, running the trail back towards the car, but stopping before the last of the trail that would lead me to comfort so that I can turn back up once more and make yet another 2,000 foot climb!
And what meets me up there? A ridgeline traverse across the thin ledges to the peak. Is that a wise idea at this part of the journey? Is it wise to play along the cliffs so high up above where my gaze is now firmly set!?
My head starts to tell me all the reasons I shouldn’t, but my heart has already conspired with my legs and I am, once again, in motion.
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As I’m climbing up the third main ascent for the day, I am thinking about my journey here. I remember back to the days when the ability to tick off mile after mile and mountain after mountain was purely some wild idea in my head.
No one actually does that!
Except for those that do.
Yes, I am one of the wild ones. I have spent years training myself to be able to run mountain after mountain.
Simply because….
Well, what is it? What is this wild insanity that drives me to run one mountain after the next?
Is it a need to prove something to someone? What about a need to run away from something hidden within? What is she running towards? What is she running from?
I check myself, a practice that I do often now that I’ve experienced the great hurt of following paths that are not mine to follow.
I check myself, and once again I find the same resounding answer:
The path of this wild one - it has nothing (okay, maybe only a little something), about getting anywhere. It certainly has nothing to do with running away from anything.
Instead, it is wholly devoted to the being present with what is here, right now, in each step. The view from the top, the alpine lake below, or the long and winding trail through the forest - they are all included. Yes, and those climbs!!! The brutal ones - the ones that pain my glutes and hamstrings and send a powerful ripple throughout my heart and lungs - these too!
I am here for every step of it all as I learn to be ever-more-present with every step of it all.
Listening.
Receiving.
Loving.
Healing.
Standing in as much joy and wonder as one can possibly hold!
I run up and down mountains, and through the forest, and the desert, and the ocean, and all other formations of this planet earth, because I love it!
What is it that you love? That fills you? That tests you as it expands you?
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They call me crazy when I speak to this path I have found for myself. Running and hiking, moving my body across wild distances as I come to know this Earth in all her magical forms as I test myself and come to know myself.
Yet, here I stand, thinking: What a better way to weave together two great loves than to spend year after year becoming better able to run up a mountain; followed by the next, and the next!
Knowing myself, in all my ever-changing forms, in connection to Her - this magical and wonderful planet we get to call home.
Now, you have to understand, so please listen up: You don’t have to express this love in the same way I do. No, your task is to listen to what it is that pulls at your heart strings, and to find yourself able to say yes to whatever wild direction it pulls you.
Whatever it is - whatever mountains (those literal or figurative) call your name and whisper to you of wild unfoldings that are yours to live…
Listen.
Take those first steps!
Then take the next ones, and the next.
You won’t be running up any mountains by tomorrow. But, as we’ve spoken to, that’s not the point.
The point is, as soon as you find that path, you will find that those steps - your very own steps! - will take you to places that allow your heart to fill as it expands with the greatest of joys and wonder that we can possibly hold within these human vessels.
Head out there. Become one of the wild ones: those who follow the wildest imaginations of our open hearts and allow this one precious life to be expressed in all its glory; all its wonder.