Renew Earth Running
I’ve been a runner since I was 18. My path to running was inevitable—it's a tradition. Not only is it a tradition for Native people, but I also grew up in Leadville, Colorado, home of the Leadville Trail 100 Run. Looking back, it’s hilarious to me that I never thought twice about people running 100 miles. I love my younger self’s naivety!
The Leadville 100 continued to play a role in my life into adulthood. It was my senior year of high school when the Tarahumara ran and I’ve never seen my dad so excited. I’ve served as my husband’s crew captain, and I’ve watched my brother complete the race as well. He’s training to run it again this year!
The running community has been a mixed experience for me. On one hand, running connects me to creativity, clarity, and the best version of myself. It keeps me grounded in nature and deepens my commitment to care for it. On the other hand, I’ve felt how running can be a privileged and exclusive space. At events in Colorado, I rarely saw people who looked like me. Worse than that were the looks I received—the silent question in their eyes: “Why are you here?”
As a mental health professional, I understand human behavior. I know those looks weren’t always conscious or intentional. The human mind tries to make sense of its surroundings. Still, while I’ve received incredible kindness in the running world, I’ve also struggled with its contradictions: people choosing physical adversity while others live it daily without choice.
There’s a lot I could unpack here, but I won’t dive too deeply into that can of worms. Please don’t think I don’t recognize the healing power of running and its community—I do. But I have to tell the truth first.
When I received those looks at events, I was filled with rage. I wanted to scream, “You think I don’t belong here?!” My mind would flash to a photo of a Puebloan runner from 1914.
I do belong.
I’m fortunate to have benefited from the strength and resilience of my parents and grandparents—enough to find my way back to the privilege of running.
Five years ago, I applied to be part of the ReNew Earth Running Team. Since then, I’ve crossed paths with so many people I deeply admire, respect, and support. Because of their lived experiences, they run with tremendous purpose.
When Shaun Martin, race director of the Canyon de Chelly Ultra, raises money for Native youth, it’s because he lives the same reality they do—food deserts, lack of clean water, and limited access to resources. And yet, I’ve seen these grassroots organizations give more generously than races five times their size. For them, this work is not an afterthought. It breaks my heart to see how little these groups receive in return.
The communities giving the most often receive the least. That has to change. Help amplify Native-led running organizations and ensure they have the resources they need to keep doing the work others only talk about. Give now. I give my creative time every chance I get. Here is the latest design available for purchase through ReNew Earth Running.
If you feel inclined, help me reach my goal of $500. Even $5.00 helps!
Porfidia’s ReNew Earth Running Fundraiser.
Organizations I love: