The Running Bum

Running Wild With Words

I looked at my once caged mind from the other side of the fence. On my first attempt running up the Bears Ears I saw nothing but the blank white wall of a blizzard and strong winds slapping me in the face. It matched how I felt that February morning–cold, alone, sad and blind to …

Continue reading

I finally feel the constant buzz of being a displaced outcast with a spinning head and a broken heart dissipate. I sit on the floor and on the ground outside for hours, the longest stretch of stillness for me in months (many months). I allow the weight of gravity to hold me in place. I …

Continue reading