I’ll be honest. I’ve probably started and stopped, revised and deleted, a version of this post dozens of times in the past few weeks. Even now, I’m not sure I can capture everything I want to say. As a small running website centralized in one of 50 states in one of almost 200 countries, I’m not even sure anyone is, or should be, listening.
If there’s one thing I want to say, it’s this: everything around us feels increasingly unsteady. The actions that have taken place in Minnesota and beyond are unfathomable – yet sadly very real.
I started running to stay in shape after college athletics, but it quickly became more than that. It became mental space—a chance to escape responsibilities, stress, personal tragedy, and the daily grind, if only for 45 minutes to an hour.
These days, that escape feels harder to find. Everyone handles things differently, but I notice it’s getting tougher to disconnect from what’s happening around us. Most of the time, the world feels like it should be part of a darkly comedic, futuristic, apocalyptic thriller—but instead, its real life, 2026.
I have completely been on the record as understanding the privilege I possess and I willingly carry that weight every time I run. As a 40’s, white, heterosexual male, I can run almost anywhere, at any time, with minimal risk. People barely pay me notice, and I rarely feel much, if any, danger. I’ve always known that not everyone has that freedom—and in today’s world, that reality stings more than ever. After my runs, I return to a home I own, cook a healthy (or unhealthy – because I’m able to make that choice) meal, enjoy a hot shower, and sleep safely. Simple things, really—things that feel increasingly fragile and are becoming more of a luxury.
I’ve always understood that there are plenty of people who aren’t given this privilege, and who are often expected to take responsibility when things go wrong through no fault of their own. People are told to “pull themselves up by their bootstraps,” to fix their situations—safety, finances, health—just by “working harder” as if it were that simple. It’s easier to blame than it is to understand. It’s easier to hate than to love. Running itself is a privilege. And the truth is, that privilege is increasingly reserved for those who already have the means, the safety, and the freedom to lace up and go.
I’ve been trying to grow in meditation, specifically with the Loving Kindness practice—a Buddhist method meant foster a sense of peace and connection. The meditation typically uses phrases like, “May I be safe. May I be happy. May I be healthy. May I live with ease.” These simple statements should be obvious as core tenets of a healthy individual or community: people and communities who are safe, can experience joy, have the chance to be mentally and physically healthy, and aren’t burdened by toxic, compounding stress—those people and communities do better in life. And yet, too often, decisions are being made, and actions are being taken, that strip away these basic tenets of personhood and healthy community.
I don’t have a neat conclusion to all of this. Run Oregon is just a speck on the digital radar, and we’ll keep doing what we do. We have a good following, but looking at our numbers and followers, I can tell you that our focus is not to gain clout. We are happy with where we are as a volunteer blog with a goal has always been positivity and connection. But even that ethos is tested as communities and optimism struggle to hold.
The country’s and world’s heartbreaking state of affairs are not lost on us.
We will continue to choose positivity and connection, and we hope others can consider that too. We stand with those who are doing good in the world. We stand with those who are unheard.
But we understand the anger. We understand the frustration. We understand the fear. Maybe running alone can’t mask those feelings anymore.
We will continue to be here—covering races, sharing stories, ideally giving joy surrounding the activity we share in loving. And if that’s not enough anymore, we understand that too. We stand with you.
