I write to you while on a journey heading deep into the base of Cooper Canyon, 20,000 square miles of jagged cliffs and gorges slicing through the remote Mexican landscape. Currently going on a restless two-hour-night’s sleep, I’m sandwiched between two other ultra-runners in a van filled with twelve. After 14 hours of driving, my tired body aches from doing nothing but bracing for the next speedbump on this half-paved gravel road. To most, I am nowhere near luxury, but we’d probably agree, this is the beginning of an adventure-
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Snowflakes crusted my window as I peered down into vast openness. Jagged silver mountains cut into nearby clouds. For years I’ve been fascinated with what, with who survives when green is gone and winter white rules. Curious, ready to explore, I landed ready for adventure. In just days I’d run 100 miles while pulling a 25-pound sledge loaded with survival equipment under a 48-hour time limit. My days prior would be spent travelling Alaska, learning how to succeed in The Last Frontier… in February…
How did this midwestern eighteen year old risk-taker become a thirty something Angeleno content in mediocrity? Slightly over three years ago, on just another Tuesday afternoon, one thought stopped me in my tracks, “I’m bored.” This was not the passing thought of another mundane, humdrum day but the kind that demands action. These next steps would determine direction.