Histoires Trailrunning
Martin Johnson entreprend sa course la plus difficile, en explorant le lien entre l'histoire des Noirs britanniques et la Tamise.
Une coureuse réfléchit à ce qu'il faut pour trouver la tranquillité dans le monde, et dans nos esprits.
Reflections on the 2022 Oak Flat Prayer Run, a gathering and a protest of a planned copper mine that could destroy this sacred site.
An attempt to set the fastest known time on the 184-mile path to the source of the River Thames.
Lydia Jennings rend hommage aux scientifiques indigènes du passé, du présent et du futur.
The communities of Cajón del Maipo, in Chile, are seeing their environment be threatened by an unnecessary hydroelectric project.
Le trail runner et activiste Felipe Cancino nous emmène pour une course de 120 km à travers la vallée du río Maipo, révélant en chemin l'impact du projet de centrale hydroélectrique d'Alto Maipo sur l'écosystème local, ses communautés et ses traditions, ainsi que la menace qu'il représente pour l'approvisionnement en eau des 7,1 millions de résidents de Santiago.
Campaigning for clean air might be a marathon, but progress is finally being made for communities in UK city centers.
Exploring one of the least visited but most revisited national parks, on foot.
After a difficult year, a runner finds life anew in the Sierra.
A dead-end dirt road is the start to a new challenge—and a fight to protect South America’s Yosemite.
Le Red Desert ou Désert rouge, dans le sud-ouest du Wyoming, est la plus grande zone sans clôture du territoire continental des États-Unis. Afin de sensibiliser le public à cet écosystème menacé, plusieurs groupes de protection de la nature du Wyoming se sont regroupés pour organiser une course de trail qui rassemble des coureurs, des acteurs locaux et des citoyens engagés pour découvrir cet endroit et comprendre exactement les enjeux.
Running through the most-visited wilderness in the continental United States, rallying to its defense.
A trail running race in southwest Wyoming brings attention to the importance of protecting the largest unfenced area in the contiguous United States.
Jenn Shelton traverses the Sierra High Route.
Krissy Moehl reports from the 2019 inaugural takayna ultramarathon “There are no footprints.” Fellow Patagonia ambassador and New Zealand native Grant Guise voiced what I was thinking. Our headlamps and phone lights dimly illuminated the overgrown double-track from Rebecca Road. “If 100 people are starting a race in five minutes, we would see footprints,” he…
Steve House joins forces with coach Scott Johnston and athlete Kílian Jornet to develop a comprehensive approach to finding the joy and the payoff of intense training. Even lunges. The wind had made its presence known all night, the tiny tent shaking off its layer of breath-turned-frost with each gust. The icy flakes settled, then…
Patagonia is thrilled to publish Steve House and Scott Johnston’s second training book, Training for the Uphill Athlete, for which they teamed up with world-class endurance athlete Kílian Jornet. This is an excerpt from the book, now available in Patagonia stores, on Patagonia.com, and at your favorite bookstore or online distributor. I race a lot:…
For the slo-mo, bug-bitten, exhausted joy of really long runs. Time expands and compresses on long runs. Moments of navigation or extended discomfort can seem endless, while the landscape sifts by like a slow-moving picture. And then suddenly it’s been hours that slipped by without you noticing, except for the subtle changes in light and…
Some families share religion, camping, lavish vacations, opera. Other families go running.
On clear days in the Pacific Northwest, views of Mount Baker depend on the marine layer and the storms. The 10,781-foot snowcapped dome is often obscured by the shifting weather, and though I’d grown up looking at the mountain, I didn’t see it much this year. But when Jeremy Wolf emailed me about running to…
Groggily I stirred in the sweaty musk of my sleeping bag. I’d spent the night on the hard concrete slab directly outside the Independence campground’s pit toilets, with the wafting stench of shit enveloping my fitful slumber. I shut my eyes, trying to forget where I was. My hips were sore, my kidneys ached and…
It starts with the focal beam of a headlamp. Sunrise is more than an hour away and it’s pouring rain. Hands tucked into the sleeves of a jacket, and the pace already quick through the sharp Tasmanian buttongrass—trying to stay warm. There is an urgency to understand this threatened place, to know takayna / Tarkine as…
The map showed an unbroken line contoured to the ridge. We started running along that line and ran past its end, into a space between two worlds. A few orange ribbons hung on branches in natural openings, marking what might eventually be the beginning of a trail. We followed it. When a gravel slope appeared…
As we sat on the tailgate of the truck, our frozen breath swirling under the light of a headlamp, we heard the first distant thud of rubber on dirt. The approaching runner was still a mile away, but you can hear just about anything that happens in the dense stillness of 2 a.m. in the…
It started on a hot afternoon in May, deep in Bears Ears National Monument. Four of us had been going hard for a couple of days and the fatigue from difficult miles was stacking up. One of us was struggling. It might have been lack of training, or perhaps improper fueling for back-to-back 12-hour days…