In 2018, I started trail running. I was in an intense breakdown of my life. A total reset, after a divorce which happened suddenly and unexpectedly. Shocked and dismembered.

The mountain held me as my feet moved over the dust. Trees talking—giving me understanding and reassurance. Breathing in the forest ions, cleansing me as I grappled with the tectonic shifts of my reality. The steady cadence soothed my heart, and the movement kept me from cracking.

I found a trail race called Cirque Series and decided to test myself in an organized fashion. To be in community; to witness and be witnessed.

My first race, I surprised myself with a finish well above the middle of the pack. I was in my late thirties and considered myself way past my athletic prime. So, I made it a goal to finish in the top ten my first season. Three races later, i found myself finishing the longest, hottest, hardest course at #7 in my division. The following race, i was shocked in a completely different way to be awarded the On Running award, which was given to the “most inspirational runner” and in the hotel room the next morning, I wrote a piece called Push Peaks to commemorate the moment.

After two seasons running 10 races on my own, I brought my 7 year old son Jack to run with me on his birthday (7/7). He was the first seven year old to complete a Cirque Series and we continued running every race together for the next several years. Sometimes just one race a year but we kept the tradition going. Rather than trying to podium, it became a bonding experience and we received many profound life lessons, articulated in the form of trail metaphor. I didn’t care about testing how high I could place; i just wanted to spend quality time with my son, testing our limits.

Last year, I signed up for two races, now supported by Natures Sunshine. On the last race, Jack had an injury and had to sit it out. It happened to be that this race was on my birthday weekend. I felt a sense of untethered freedom to run on my own for the first time in 6 years. I was curious to see how I’d do, much older now.

For whatever reason, I started at the back of the pack with a group of friends. I surprised myself again as I just kept passing people and placed way ahead of the position I put myself to start. I still had it in me, I guess.

This year, Jack is 13 and I’m 45. This year, we will run at our own pace for the first time. A rite of passage. To let Jack test himself without his dad at his side (even sometimes carrying him on my back, or he hanging on the straps of my backpack). And, for me… to run without holding back. To feel what I can do on my own.

And who knows… will we run future races at our own pace? Will we run them side by side? Will he even want to continue running at all?

I know trail running has been my thing. It became our thing. And it maybe one day, it could just become my thing again.