Any dream is more multi-layered, more nuanced, less easily described than what fits on the “short answer” section of a quiz. And Phil Shin is not one for the glib, hashtag-friendly answer. His undertaking is a difficult one, and a whole lot of people he loves and respects are on the journey with him, so he is thoughtful and expansive in his responses. He wants you to understand.

But for women, there is another layer to lonesome, another connotation: the notion of being exposed. Exposed emotionally and physically, exposed to the misogynistic mockery of those who oppose the very idea that a woman should explore a rocky trail in the middle of night, in the middle of nowhere. 

Our Tale of Two Women begins at the start line of the High Lonesome 100, on the morning of July 21, 2023, in the post-dawn brightness of the Sawatch Range, a playground of Colorado peaks rugged and extensive enough to inspire and intimidate the most seasoned trail runner.

When Richard Pimentel crossed the famous blue-painted strip of pavement on Boylston Street, serenaded by a raucous crew of friends and family, he had reached the finish of not just the 2022 Boston Marathon, but of an odyssey suitable for Hollywood or Homer. His is a larger than life story, a tale full of unspeakable toil, of windswept miles along the frozen lake, icicles sprouting from his eyebrows, of long mornings on July bike paths slick with humidity, caked in the salt of his own sweat.

The Wednesday evening before, Minji invites me to Kezar Stadium in the center of San Francisco, where Miles and Ella have their Track and Field practice. Before they start, Minji and the kiddos traditionally run around the track for a warm-up. It’s a moment to be together: they talk about their days, how school went, jogging at a moderate pace (these kids are quite fast, I’d like to add.) And just as their practice gets started, it’s like the traffic session all over again: Minji looks at her watch: “I have 45 minutes.” 

She shrugs and smiles, even as her eyes well. The rabbit co-founder and owner is only minutes past the finish line of a Boston Marathon that did not go as she’d hoped, and she’s trying to process on the fly.

“I do love living in chaos,” Jill Deering laughs from her Santa Barbara home. 

Case in point, it’s one month before the 2023 Boston Marathon, and she’s juggling a day jam-packed with family activities, business meetings at rabbit, and of course, a set of fast 800s. “I decided this was going to be the year to finally…chase my longtime goal of breaking 2:45.” 

“The goal is to run forever, right? To visit new places, meet new people along the way, and continue to lose (or find?) myself in my uninterrupted thoughts.” 

Shawanna is as fast as she is passionate about increasing awareness for Black representation in the running community.

Running takes on unique forms and meanings for each of us. Beyond our goals to PR, complete our first 5k, or simply get out of the house, many of us sense deeper dreams behind our practice.