Jim Walmsley is a Champion

Canyon de Chelly, last fall. I had just finished setting up my little dirtbag camp (sleeping in the back of a rental Ford Escape with The Dragonfly) in beautiful Navajo country when a car pulled in our spot. It was pitch dark, and some guy stuck his face out the driver’s window and asked “Is it OK if I park it here?”.

“Sure.”

Two guys stepped out and we shook hands. “Hey, I’m Jim.” “Hi, I’m Myke.” And that was pretty much it. They got set up in the back of their car, just like us, cooked a little bit of dinner, and came to sit down at the Miller’s Casitalita. And you know what was really special about it all? Absolutely nothing.

We all took a seat and started chatting among ourselves. I found out that “Myke” was a photographer, that he traveled quite a bit, and that he documented Jim’s runs. My friend Nico was there too, and it was cool to spend a little time and have a beer before the grand day tomorrow, one of the most amazing runs an ultra runner could wish for. Everyone shared stories and like every eve before an epic ultra, it was relaxed and fun.

Walking back to our car, Julie told me “Wow, that guy I was talking with, Jim, turns out he’s just ran a world-record Grand Canyon Rim-to-Rim-to-Rim just a couple days ago.” I had actually sort of met him before, running Mesquite Canyon in Arizona. He flew down a trail at an impressive speed, and I thought he really looked like Scott Jurek with his curly hair and his long legs. Julie was impressed. “He’s just this super casual dude”, she said, “He didn’t mention anything about his feat until I started asking questions.” Champions tend to do that, I thought to myself.

The next day started before sunrise as we made our way down to the sacred fire and shared the Dag’ha ceremonies, where elders and tribe members help prepare the runners for the long day ahead. I asked Nico where Jim was. “Oh, he’s just here for the experience”, he replied. “He’s not running today.”

I wished him good luck on what would turn out to be a pretty fantastic day for him (Nico flew like the wind and won the 2016 run) and set out on my own adventure with Julie, who was experiencing her very first ultra. It was an amazing day for us, too.

At the midpoint, atop the magnificent canyon after a tough climb, I got into the aid station with 1,000 things on my mind. Two hands eagerly extended at me. “Dude, do you have any trash I can take care of?” I lifted my eyes and there he was. “Are you eating well? Have you got enough to drink?”. Jim Walmsley was helping runners out at the aid station, and he wanted to take my trash to the garbage can. He was happy and excited and dedicated and he made me so proud of my sport.

“When was the last time you saw a sports superstar take care of some random guy’s trail trash and make sure he’s doing OK?”, I remember telling Julie, on the way back. A real champion will do that, I again reflected.

I never told this story until today, because I’m convinced Jim didn’t do this to get publicity or gratification. I’m convinced he did it out of his love for running and to share a special moment with the people who, he knows, “get it”.

So when some of these running people started speaking negatively of him after the Western States last weekend, it really bugged me. They accuse him of being brash. They find weaknesses in his strategy. They say all sorts of things, from the comfort of their little certainties, like they’ve had a front-row seat to Jim’s career all along.

The same people who would have written the exact opposite, should Jim have made it and won the race and smashed a course record. They would have lauded his boldness, they would have talked about every little bit that he’d done right. And that, too, is pissing me off.

I’ll be first to say, I don’t know Jim Walmsley that well. But I’m the kind of person for whom actions speak louder than words. And after seeing how he behaves and the respect he’s garnered from many ultra runners in the community I know and love, I’m taking his defense and I’m standing with him.

He went out there and he gave Western States his absolute best shot. He was convinced he could win, and he was unafraid to say it. And maybe some people didn’t notice, but he’s also unafraid to talk about despair and depression, of failing and mistakes, even of wanting to die. And then finding a way. Champions tend to do that, too.

I salute Jim for his bold attempt last weekend, as I salute every single one of us out there who builds up the passion and the determination to tackle ridiculously long distances in difficult environments with no certainty of success, yet who goes at it nonetheless. There will always be some naysaying bystanders to hit someone when they’re down. Often, they will also be the flip-floppers who will turn around and sing the praises of the same person when they actually succeed. I hope their words are as meaningless and inconsequential either way, to the people subjected to them.

After so many hours of training and sacrifice and dedication, ALL Western States runners, from Cat Bradley to Jim to that last person to cross the finish line to those who didn’t even make it to the start but tried, deserve a well-earned congratulations, a recognition of their hard work and some words of encouragement to keep going, to keep pushing the limits and to keep living this life to the fullest.

The bystanders are all the same to me. And I don’t care what they think.

Jim Walmsley’s a champion.



Photo credit : Myke Hermsmeyer

*** EDIT ***

I very rarely come back and edit a post, but I feel like this is important. Myke Hermsmeyer actually sent me a photo (that I didn't know existed!) of the exact moment depicted in my article. 

So here it is, Jim being a trail angel to my absolute nobody self, atop Canyon de Chelly :)

On The Importance Of Running

The Raramuri are The Lightfooted Ones. In their heart, in their Land and in their bodies, running flows like a sacred blood which ties them to the Earth, to themselves and to their environment. Using their own feet to transport themselves, they acquire a level of freedom and health that is a true reward and a treasure of wisdom for all of Humanity.

As part of the so-called Modern World, we are taught that we possess the highest knowledge and technology. After meeting the Raramuri and other Running People, and after spending time with them, I'm not so sure anymore. Rooted deep in their running tradition, there's something more, something better, something that reminds me of what it means to be a real Human being.

Instead of depending on technology and machines, we could do like the Raramuri and depend on each other. Instead of acquiring ever-increasing amounts of material possessions, we should learn the treasure and value of sharing with others. Instead of traveling with hermetic, super fast machines, we should learn the life-changing experience of foot travel, at a speed that allows discovery and wonder at this world we inhabit. And instead of a fruitless pursuit of body image, we should learn to use our natural movements to keep our bodies, our minds and our souls healthy and thriving.

Through the simple, humble act of running, I bow to the ancient cultures and traditions of Humans who understood the importance of connecting our body to nature. I make myself available to new experiences that change the way I think, the way I look and the way I feel. By sharing the importance of running, I celebrate crucial ancient knowledge brought to me from time immemorial through the journey of many, often on the fringes of History, who nurtured and acted as stewards of a true treasure. Step, after step, after step.

***

This text was shared as a contribution to The Origins movie, by runner and Mas loco Mikko Ijäs. If you have a couple minutes to spare, I highly recommend you watch the movie trailer.

***

En pratiquant la course, je salue les traditions millénaires d'autres Humains qui, avant moi, ont parcouru les âges pour m'envoyer un message de la plus haute importance. Une foulée à la fois.

For Daniel

Pure.

They carry the light of the world
They see all things with a new eye
Through their vulnerability and innocence
They bring out the very best in us.

They don't know poverty
Or segregation, or fear
Their language is universal
It speaks of wonder, amazement
And constant discovery.

They respond only to love
Care and tenderness
Smiling upon you with elation
They hold you with all the might
Of their small hands, never letting go.

Parents throughout the world
Have known this joy
And vowed, every day
Looking through shiny eyes
To always be there, come what may,
Caring and providing to their best.

And no matter how hard the task
No matter how strenuous the responsibility
Their efforts are washed away
By a single look, a single smile
From the ones they care for so much.

No one should suffer the loss
Such a link should never be broken
For this is the very essence of life
And none, even a remote witness,
Can ever stand the pain.

No child should ever die.


In memory of Daniel Moreno, 3 months, son of Javier and Catalina



Jamais, jamais, un enfant ne devrait mourir.

The Caballo Blanco Story

This is a beautiful short story about the life and vision of Micah True, better known as Caballo Blanco, as rendered by New York artist Sam Carbaugh.

As we are nearing March 27, I want to remind the world about my friend and inspiration, Micah True, who went out on his last run one year ago in the beautiful Gila Forest of New Mexico.

Although there is still not a day where I miss him beyond words, I was elated to witness the vitality of his dream and spirit in the Copper Canyons in March, where more than 500 runners, both foreign and Raramuri, gathered for the celebration of peace, friendship and sharing that Micah created from his good will and his actions. 

Like many people in the world, Sam Carbaugh was touched by Micah's passion and devotion to the Raramuri and the simple, humble joy of running. Sam invested his time and talent into creating a small biography that stays true to both who Micah was as person and as the creator of the legendary Copper Canyons Ultra Marathon (now known as Ultra Marathon Caballo Blanco). This is as much a story about Micah True as it is the one of his legacy as Caballo Blanco, Runner of the Sierra Madre.

After making the story of the Raramuri and UMCB their "Monday Inspiration" feature on the week of the race, our friends at Tribesports have decided to pay homage to Caballo Blanco by featuring his story on their ultrarunning blog. For posterity, I will also feature the story right here, on FlintLand, forever.

Run free!

Apache Tear

I laid an Apache Tear down in the forest

Inside an inukshuk I built under a tree

Like a little shelter for you to rest

In this place I call The Sanctuary

Throughout the mountain, this place is unique

With its cedar trees and tumbling rocks

Protected by the sharp winds from the peak

And speckled with evergreen moss

Heavy tears roll down my cheeks

As I recall how we had said

We would come here when we’d meet

And run together once again

It is hard to let you go

But your soul needs to roam

Of all the places that I know

This one’s the best to be your home

I laid an Apache Tear

With my eyes welled up again

But I know I will be back here

Filled with thoughts of you, my friend.

Kuira Ba, Caballo Blanco