Member-only story
Copper Canyon Marathon Recap
[Listen to an audio version of this blog here.]
There is no easy way to describe my experience in the Copper Canyon. Whatever I write will inevitably fall a bit short. I only wish you could have been there to experience it with me.
I went for a race but the race wasn’t really the reason I needed to go. On the plane from LA to El Paso I sat next to a woman who talked my ear off. Most of what she said was unimportant but she did tell me that her family is from Chihuahua, her grandfather grew up in Urique, which just happens to be in the Copper Canyon. She’s been there more than once, “It’s magical,” she said, “keep your eyes and heart open.”
“Sure thing, lady,” I thought. But she was right.
I didn’t know most of the people who traveled to the canyons with me, but I did. We shared enough of the important stuff to understand each other. Fast and deep friendship can only grow from fertile ground and I guess the best way to grow is to water and feed whatever ground you happen to be planted in.
We traveled by plane and bus and van and landed in a sacred and beautiful place. I felt honored and lucky to be there. I read about the Copper Canyon and the Tarahumara people when I was maybe 15. I was already a runner, already a poet, already intrigued by the people who ran hundreds of miles in sandals…
