Carry You
Over six days last week, hundreds of athletes ran 120 miles at altitudes of 9,000 feet and higher in Central Colorado. I was there to help where I could and along the way, witnessed just how quietly human strength can manifest.
Since the trails took them above treeline in the Rocky Mountains, changing weather was a constant threat. Afternoon alpine storms are not to be trifled with, so they were required to carry a jacket, gloves, hat, and emergency blanket. This was in addition to the liters of water and hundreds of calories needed for their exertions.
On the fifth day I assisted with the mandatory gear check. Clipboard in hand, I marked off their numbers as they opened their backpacks to show me their items as they entered the start chute. The music was a backbeat to the shivering and anxious energy swirling in the dawn chill.
“They were voluntarily taking additional weight of items they never intended for themselves, only hoping that their kits might be useful to someone else. ”
A curious pattern surfaced in the brief but intense thirty minute check-in time. In scanning the contents of dozens of backpacks, it became clear that many of them contained extra gear. Several runners even said - I have enough for me and someone else, if they need it. There were full first aid kits, extra gloves, multiple hats, bivy shelters for more than one.
The weight of an additional case of bandages may not seem like much until you remember that they were running marathon distances most days, gaining thousands of feet of elevation. The trails were rocky and sometimes wet. It was a situation in which ounces matter, especially given the days of effort they had already wielded. The cumulative effect of that kind of work requires endurance beyond imagination.
But that morning, I realized that there was even more strength on display. They were voluntarily taking additional weight of items they never intended for themselves, only hoping that their kits might be useful to someone else.
They proactively took on an encumbrance so a stranger might not have to. They silently agreed to shoulder others’ difficulty should it arise.
It’s difficult to find a vocabulary for that kind of caring. But maybe it’s as simple as yes, I will carry you. If you need it.
Inspired by events in Red Cliff, Colorado
Which resides on unceded land of the Ute Mountain Ute Tribe.
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