some of you have been asking about my process as an athlete, why I do what I do and how I evolved into the mystical mountain mover I am today. here’s a bit by way of explanation.
I was first taught to run in 2010 by a high-altitude first ascentionist who adhered to the most stringent style possible in executing his ambulations. by eschewing support, not using performance-enhancing drugs or supplemental oxygen, by applying only diligent hard work and love in motion to his mountain tasks he established a new paradigm for me, an outlier’s example of how an athlete fulfills his mission in the most authentic way possible. he sought to relieve himself the debt of his own immense grief on the slopes that eventually claimed his life; moving fast for safety, moving fast for gnosis, moving fast for his soul.
fast forward to 2018 and I have woven the same threads of integrity into my own search for that ephemeral beauty in the physical art of moving my solitary body with the more-than-human in places no human eye will ever see. it is imperative that, if I am to properly practice my artistic process, my running takes place solo, unsupported, and on continuous mountain trails. this same ethic, carried over from the toolkit of the first ascentionist, pushes me for the elusive only known time on aesthetic ridges, long stories told by foot on giant circumambulating prostrations always run clockwise, and it makes competition repulsive. in essence i run as he alpine climbed: fully self sufficient, dependent only on my own solid preparation and intuition to retain my foot on this side of the veil, and unfettered by others clogging my psychic space in the hills. give me a prominent granite ridge in the middle of wolf country or a masochistic non-trail traversing three ecosystems on its flight skyward and i’ll be happy for years.
i paint with my feet, fly while delicately referencing the ground with my feet, close my eyes and dream while i move that my spirit body shed its flesh and rose into the night sky glowing green from where the heart used to be. describing the non-dual is, as always, elusive. thank you for listening while i practice.