I Hope I See You on The Trail

Estimated reading time:  4  minutes

I hope I see you on the trail.

I hope that as you pass, we exchange a quick nod,

Pained gazes intersecting for a split second,

The prelude of a smirk grazing the corners of our mouths,

 A brief connection, a mutual understanding.

I hope I see you on the trail and the sweat is beading down my forehead.

I hope I get to admire your open stride on the descent.

I hope I see you on the trail and you are countless metres ahead of me,

Calves projecting you seemingly effortlessly,

The image releasing my stubborn will as I wrestle my breathing.

I hope I see you on the trail and you’ve never run a kilometre in your life.

I hope you’re struggling and my greeting rekindles your fire as we cross paths.

During 2020 I felt myself relying on the escape of trail running to find peace amid the pandemic, a turbulent election year, and everyday stresses. The trails are a place that allow me to explore the things that pain me and to discover new happiness, or to do nothing but breathe and step forward. These experiences are always facilitated by a strong connection to the natural world and my body. I feel at home and grounded on the trail when everything else is overwhelming. I often find myself hoping that others feel this as well, which is how the poem began to take form. It starts with the classic “runner’s nod”, which seemed to become more meaningful this past year as social interactions were limited by the pandemic.

This theme of human connection through trail running remains throughout the poem, but I found each line began to echo a deep desire for greater inclusivity in the activity. I want anyone to feel at home experiencing the places and sensations that have brought me solace. I recognise my privilege in feeling welcome in trail running as a cis-, white, thin, able-bodied individual. Events such as the Black Lives Matter protests in June 2020 and the domestic terror attack on the Capitol in January 2021 have plastered the injustices and inequalities in our society all over the forefront of my mind.

I was also quite moved by the messages in the This Land documentary produced by Faith E Briggs in 2020. The salience of these events and the influence of work I saw in the realm of inclusivity, amplifying voices, and pushing diverse representation in the outdoors seemed to bleed through the words that came to me in an almost desperate way. There is still so much more to do. I know that although it sometimes felt like it, I did not experience any of the past months alone, so maybe these words will resonate with the running community as well.