Finding Community in Trail Running: BIPOC Runners Share Their Experience
BIPOC Runners talk races, group runs and give tips on gear and staying motivated
December 28th, 2023
Learn Skills > Running
I’ve been running alone for almost five years, mostly because I like to stay in my head, but also because I have been too nervous to join a run club or group run. I have a laundry list of mostly imagined reasons why I should just stick to solo jaunts: I’m too slow. The people in these clubs already have connections with one another and no one will talk with me. I’m too old. I’m still too much of a newbie. My form sucks. And on. And on. And on.
Feeling as though you don’t belong or worrying if you’ll be judged can be a common experience for many new runners. That feeling can be especially amplified for Black runners, Indigenous runners, and other runners of color, who might show up to a race and suddenly feel as though they are The Only One. It can be an incredibly difficult feeling, the joy and freedom of running tampered by a jarring sense of isolation.
The five runners below have experienced some version of those feelings, but instead of shying away from the sport, they just kept showing up, figuring out how to connect with others for sweat, smiles, and solidarity. After hearing what they have to say, I think I’m ready to do the same—and hopefully you are, too.
This article in a series on reducing barriers to outdoor access was made possible by funding from REI.
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VERNA VOLKER
Last January, Verna Volker spent 34 hours quite literally running in circles. The Minnesota-based mother of four was pushing her limits at the Dark Anchor Ultra, attempting to run a hundred miles via a 3.5-mile loop. It was her second try at a century run; during a previous race, Volker was sidelined by desert heat that aggravated her asthma. This time, she chose to test her mind and body with a self-imposed Groundhog Day, tracking endless dusty circles with no crew, no pacer, and no one to tend to her growing collection of blisters. When the clock finally ran down, Volker came in just shy of her goal with a stunning 94 miles logged, a personal best, and a sense of pride.
Growing up on the Navajo Nation, Volker was a basketball player, and running was less a source of joy than a necessary part of conditioning. Things shifted in early 2009 when her family moved to Minneapolis. Midwestern winter is no joke, so Volker was surprised to see people running, walking, and cycling around the city. During a lakeside run, her sister suggested that Volker, who had let her own needs slip while in caretaker mode, make running a habit.
Volker went hard off the starting block, signing up for a half marathon that summer. While she now recommends people ease into racing with shorter distances, the decision paid off. While it wasn’t easy, Volker finished the race—and the experience lit a fire. “My three little boys were at the finish line, and I just remember thinking, ‘Oh, my goodness, I can do this, I can run,” she says. “And that's when the spark hit.” Now, long runs—including marathons and ultras—are regularly scheduled programming, a way to not just snag a little quiet time, but also go deeper.
“I run for a purpose—my parents passed away, and my three siblings have passed,” Volker explains. As the miles go by, she imagines that they are all present, cheering her onward. “I don't care about being fast. I don't care if I ever run a hundred miler again. I make sure that each race is just dedicated to them. Every race is a healing moment.”
Running with purpose and in honor of loved ones is a connection that Volker shares with other Native runners, especially women—even if she wasn’t seeing them toeing up at start lines or shared in the pages of magazines when she began. It was a noticeable absence, one that Volker decided to address in 2018, with the creation of an Instagram account called Native Women Running. “I was like—Why isn’t anyone sharing their stories? Storytelling is part of our Native culture,” she explains. “I want to share the journey of Native women and give them a platform.”
It’s working. What began as an outlet for visual representation and online connection has turned into not just real-life friendships, but also the support of sponsorships and the creation of Native Women Running teams who show up at races around the country, including the most recent New York City Marathon.
Volker herself has become a recognizable figure in the running world, including an appearance on the cover of the Winter 2023 issue of Runner’s World. But she’d rather deflect that spotlight onto all of the other Native women lacing up around the country, whose presence online, in print, on pavement, and along trails serves as not just an inspiration, but also a pathway for the next generation.
“Running is our prayer, running is our healing, running is our medicine,” says Volker. “This is about something bigger than just us.”
WORDS OF WISDOM FOR RUNNERS INTERESTED IN GETTING OUT THERE
Volker says that one of the best things you can do is focus inward instead of measuring yourself against people whose bodies, resources, and experiences might be different. “It's easy to start this journey and compare yourself to someone who's running Boston or someone who's really in shape,” she says. “Being comfortable with where you're at in your body and what you can do is pretty amazing.”
She recommends starting with incremental goals that feel attainable—say, first training for a 5k instead of jumping straight into a half-marathon.
MUST-HAVE RUNNING GEAR
Naked Sports Innovations High Capacity Running Vest
Lily Trotters compression socks (check out their special edition Native Women Running socks; proceeds benefit the organization)
COREE WOLTERING
Just over a week into his June 2020 attempt at running a Fastest Known Time on the Ice Age Trail, Coree Woltering wrestled with a bum ankle. While resting it, he launched a Facebook Live session to check in with anyone who might be following his progress. When someone asked what he needed out there, Woltering half-joked, “Lasagna and cupcakes.” The response was astounding; within hours, generous Wisconsinites stocked the support crew vans with his requests and more. “I was absolutely shocked that people were following the record attempt that close, and cared enough to take time out of their day to make homemade comfort food,” he says. “It really was quite an incredible experience.”
Stuffed with carbs and goodwill, Woltering’s ankle and spirit soldiered on through roughly 1,147 miles of Wisconsin’s glacier-carved hills and cow-studded farmlands to set a new speed record on the trail in 21 days, 13 hours, and 35 minutes.
Woltering’s tenacity isn’t a surprise to anyone familiar with his background. Not content to stick with cross-country and track in his younger years, the multi-sport athlete dabbled in as many options as possible: swimming, baseball, soccer, cheerleading. After a trio of concussions knocked him around during his senior year of high school, Woltering finally lasered in on running, eventually ramping up to become a competitive triathlete and a two-time Half Ironman World Championships qualifier.
It wasn’t until trading the Midwest for Colorado, however, that Woltering discovered that the joys of running and cycling weren’t restricted to pavement. The combination of physical movement and nature’s beauty cemented his love affair—as did the burgeoning community he discovered out on trail.
“Coming from triathlon, a sport that can be very isolating, I don’t think I really thought about community, but it was something that was building without me realizing it,” he explains. “I still talk to many of the people from my first few months of trail running.”
Being in community with other runners isn’t just something he enjoys, but also something he helps facilitate. After moving back east to Chattanooga, Woltering took a job with local gear shop Rock/Creek Outfitters. There, he helped launch a Monday night group run that drew a steady stream of attendees who returned week after week. As someone who chose to stop drinking over two years ago, Woltering also holds dear a solid community of fellow sober runners, folks who are ready to lace up for support or camaraderie at a moment’s notice. These days, unless he wants to, Woltering doesn’t have to run alone.
Whether solo or surrounded by fellow runners, Woltering has plenty of gas in the tank, and there’s a sense that when it comes to fleet-footed feats, he’s just getting started. “I like to go fast sometimes, but love to go far, and being able to do that on foot is amazing,” says Woltering. “I won’t compete forever, but I will definitely be outside forever.”
WORDS OF WISDOM FOR RUNNERS INTERESTED IN GETTING OUT THERE
“Don’t be afraid to reach out,” says Woltering. “Ask people if they want to go for a run. Join your local trail runs…bring a friend. The trails are a great place and there are a lot of great people out there.”
MUST-HAVE RUNNING GEAR
Smartwool Trail Magic Socks (Woltering actually designed these!)
DAISY MARTINEZ
Living in the shadow of Southern California’s San Gabriel Mountains, Daisy Martinez used to look up and see a scene that looked beautiful, but distant, maybe even unattainable. Now, those peaks, canyons, and ridgelines look more like a lifeline.
By 2015, Martinez had been road running for years, dealing with a series of injuries before she developed horrible shin splints and a doctor advised her to give up the pursuit. She was struggling at the time with her mental and physical health, and needed some sort of outlet. “I knew I had to keep moving my body, so I actually started hiking for the first time,” she recalls. “Seeing the movie backdrop mountains of the Angeles National Forest—and then being able to actually experience them on foot—was life-changing.”
As her strength grew, Martinez began incorporating downhill runs into her hiking routine to test her legs—and she liked the feeling. Excited by the possibilities, she signed up for her first ultra race the following year, the NoName 50k, despite her previous experience being limited to road marathons. “That was my New Year's resolution,” she says. “I didn’t even know what I was getting into. Ignorance is bliss, right?”
Bliss, indeed. In a world filled with pop-up notifications, dings, and any number of other attention-stealers that threaten to constantly pull you out of the moment, trail running became a meditative pursuit and an opportunity for Martinez to go inward and nurture her mental health. “The reason that I’m so passionate about this is because ultra running and trail running helped me build a better relationship with myself,” she says. “It has helped me essentially find self-love.”
Even though her solo forays gave Martinez much-needed time with her thoughts, she wondered if trail running offered the same kind of community that exists with road runners—and whether she could find kindred spirits in that world. “I craved a women’s community because I didn't see it, especially for women of color,” says Martinez, who is Mexican-American. “Sometimes, I still feel like an outsider because I'm this Latina woman without your traditional ‘skinny athlete’ kind of body.”
Rather than shy away from the sport, Martinez—who is now a running coach and an assistant race director for the SoCalTrail race series—decided to see if she could help fill that gap. After an initial attempt at creating a running group fizzled in 2017, she stuck with it and launched an initiative called Wellness on the Trails, where runners can come together to push their limits and receive support from others no matter their pace, body shape, or experience level. She hopes to eventually create a mountain-based wellness center where endurance athletes can go hard on local trails, then unwind and recover.
Martinez also partnered with fellow ultrarunner and coach Melissa Perez to create Chingonas on the Run, which operates both as a virtual community (over a hundred runners are part of the collective on Strava) and on the ground with group runs and race entries. The name comes from a Spanish slang term that can be seen as derogatory in the wrong context; of course, their reclamation uses it as an empowering symbol of tenacity and strength.
“It doesn't matter if you're running your first Ultra, running your first 5 or 10k trail race—whatever that spectrum is for you,” says Martinez. “It’s like—you can do hard things because you are a badass, and we're here doing badass things together as a community.”
Where she once saw a lack of women, especially Latina women, at races, now the Chingonas—and plenty of others—fly across the finish line in droves. “I tell people, especially when in places where they feel like they're the only one—well, if you don't show up, who will? Sometimes you might have to be the one taking that initiative,” says Martinez. “That way, it’ll inspire others to also show up.”
WORDS OF WISDOM FOR RUNNERS INTERESTED IN GETTING OUT THERE
“If there's something that sparks within you, that you're interested or curious about, feed into that curiosity and allow for it to blossom,” says Martinez. “I strongly believe that there's no dream that comes to our mind that wasn't meant for us.” She suggests that people who are interested in racing or finding community might consider volunteering at trail races, where you can see a variety of runners chasing their own goals, at their own speeds. You can find trail races around the United States by visiting Ultrasignup.com.
MUST-HAVE RUNNING GEAR
a Buff (for sweat, warmth, and to wipe your nose)
SAMANTHA DONG
New York City might seem an unlikely location for a love of trail running to take root, but that’s exactly what happened for Samantha Dong. The Manhattanite, who was raised in Chongqing, China, and moved to the United States in 2002, began lacing up during the early days of the Covid-19 pandemic, joining throngs of city dwellers who also craved outdoor connection and fresh air.
Though plenty of options exist for hitting the pavement across New York’s five boroughs and its myriad run clubs, it soon became clear to Dong that not only were there more nearby opportunities to log dirt miles than one might think, but that trail running was also pretty amazing—especially barreling down bomber downhills, all smiles and dust.
“I first experienced trail ‘highs’ at South Mountain Reservation in Millburn, New Jersey about three years ago,” says Dong. “I still remember how amazing it felt to fly down the mountain with so much joy and freedom.”
For Dong, that freedom—along with a noticeable boost to her mental and physical health—was something she hoped to share with others. Wanting to not just connect dirt enthusiasts (much more difficult to find in a city where pavement is king), but also foster community (she points to scientific research that backs the idea of social connections as being key for our mental health), she launched Asian Trail Mix in 2022. While one of her goals is to specifically uplift and increase representation for Asian Americans, Pacific Islanders and other people of color online, on trail, and at races, all are welcome and included.
Dong says that the group, which boasts an online and in-person presence, has made big strides since its launch. Attendance has tripled for the community’s monthly runs, the run club is now affiliated with the city’s storied New York Road Runners club. As of last August, Asian Trail Mix has started registering teams for trail races. Growing a community is certainly a lot more work than going at it solo, but the effort is worth it for Dong.
“POC [People of Color] are excluded from much of the culture and common narratives of trail running. Our voices are not prominent in the trail running community and our experiences are seldom centered in various trail running-related media,” she says. “The joy of the outdoors should be shared by all races, and the mental and physical benefits of running in nature should be accessible to all, regardless of their racial backgrounds.”
WORDS OF WISDOM FOR RUNNERS INTERESTED IN GETTING OUT THERE
“Have an open mind and give it a try. You can always start slow and join a group like Asian Trail Mix. We all start somewhere and you will be surprised how rewarding and fun it is.”
MUST-HAVE RUNNING GEAR
SunGod sunglasses
MARCUS RENTIE
Long before he began trail running, Los Angeles-based Marcus Rentie satisfied his need for speed with wheels—really, really small ones. The engineer was once a semi-professional rollerblader, but an accident on his 32nd birthday resulted in the installation of a bit of hardware in his ankle and the end of his inline career.
Sidelined by recovery, his activity levels dropped as his blood pressure began ticking upward. Rentie knew he needed to get moving again, so he asked his doctor if he could try running. “Absolutely not,” was the doctor’s response, followed by “Running is the worst possible thing you can do.” Undeterred, Rentie signed up for a half marathon. “It was kind of all downhill from there,” he laughs.
In addition to dealing with his injury, Rentie was going through a tough breakup, a car breakdown, and the loss of his job. Without much to lose—and without much of a plan, other than a desire to perhaps complete a triathlon—he found an online training program and set his sights on preparing for 13.1 miles of relative unknown.
What he found wasn’t a distraction from the chaos in his life, but a way through it. “It turned into a moving meditation for me,” he says. “You’re completely in the moment. The only thing you're thinking about in the future is, you know, two steps ahead. And that's the goodness.”
Racing shoes soon replaced his racing mind, and Rentie became a fixture on the SoCal trail circuit. Lingering in the post-run beer garden added a fresh layer to the experience: the opportunity to bond with other trail runners, whom he found extremely supportive of one another. “I felt like—I want to be a part of this,” he says. “But there weren't very many people that looked like me.”
While the self-professed “social butterfly” and former DJ didn’t feel uncomfortable putting himself out there even if it meant he was sometimes the only Black runner at races. He also recognized that others, especially young people, might avoid trail running and other outdoor sports for lack of representation. “I've had people ask, ‘How come I don’t see more Black people at races?,” says Rentie, who says that any answer to that query is a complex one. But considering it brought up a whole new question. “I started asking myself—Well, what am I doing to make that change?”
Inspired by his own past as a city kid whose own mind was broadened by summer camp experiences in the local mountains, Rentie discussed the idea of creating an outdoor nonprofit with his mother, a paperwork whiz who helped him set up the foundation of what would become TrailFolx. The organization, which Rentie operates with one of his high school best friends and several other committed Angelenos, aims to connect underserved youth with the outdoors not just through trail running, but also via rock climbing and snow sports. They also host no-drop, multi-pace group trail runs around the L.A. area, a natural extension of Rentie’s not-too-distant past as a volunteer pacer for a popular road running group called BlacklistLA.
His schedule is a lot busier these days, but Rentie doesn’t mind the extra work that comes with TrailFolx. “I think it's kind of fulfilling when you get a group together and we go for a run. We always have a good time,” he says. “There's never really a reason not to.”
WORDS OF WISDOM FOR RUNNERS INTERESTED IN GETTING OUT THERE
“It’s kind of something you’ve just got to dive into. Finding a local trail running group is a great way. I’ve never been to a trail running group that wasn't welcoming and accommodating. It doesn't matter how fast or slow you run.”
MUST-HAVE RUNNING GEAR
Nathan handheld water bottle with a storage pocket
Rentie’s doggo, Batman, is sponsored by Ruffwear. “She has a pack where she can carry her own water bottles, poop bags, and snacks,” he says. “She’s a little independent woman.”
Find a Trail Running Group
Here are resources to find a trail running group near you.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR / WHY YOU SHOULD TRUST US
Shawnté Salabert is a California-based freelance writer interested in the connections between humans and the natural world. Her work has appeared in Adventure Journal, AFAR, Alpinist, Backpacker, The California Sunday Magazine, Condé Nast Traveler, Land+People, Outside, and SIERRA, among other outlets. She is the author of Hiking The Pacific Crest Trail: Southern California. For more information, visit shawntesalabert.com.