In what already feels like another lifetime, I was once a very serious nonfiction writer. This was, much like ultrarunning, something I learned to do to process and understand a childhood in an abusive home, cyclical Appalachian poverty, and why everybody in my kindergarten class called me the little brown boy and made fun of my big ears. I put writing on the shelf after deciding to head to the University of Chicago for grad school, a place where elite academia would burn me out and leave me moving back to Ohio 20lbs overweight, dead broke, fresh off a breakup, …
Continue reading “Teewinot, or, reflections from 48 hours in Grand Teton National Park”