HOLY TERRAIN

Holy Terrain: We are All Running On the Same Ground
Whatever you were picturing when you read the words “holy terrain,” I bet it wasn’t Cedarvale Ravine. The 7.2-kilometer trail snaking through the heart of Toronto is flanked by drab apartment buildings and segmented by long stretches of ominous wetland growing in defiance of the subway that threatens the landscape from below. Folks say a brook once babbled there, but all you can hear now is a gurgling sewer. The ravine is the kind of place where you picture local kids searching for dead bodies in the summer, in the touching, coming-of-age sort of way that kids search for dead bodies in the summer. But if Cedarvale Ravine is such a strange ecosystem that’s because it’s the site of a vibrant convergence of stories. The land keeps a record of the city’s formation: within the very topography of the ravine and across its biodiversity, lives the history of the forced displacement of its original, indigenous stewards, of the settler farmlands that followed, of their loss to urbanization, and of the creation of the trail that remains today, maintained by many feet over many years.

The capacity land has to hold a multitude of stories all at once is what makes even an urban oasis of garbage like the Cedarvale Ravine command a level of reverence. On that same trail, at different points in time, gardens grow, foxes outrun hunters, motorcycles race, Hemingway wishes he was in Paris, and I’m lying about being a runner to impress the Chair of my department. The lie started much earlier as a lie to myself, the moment I joined the department’s team for the CIBC Run for the Cure, having never before ran for or against anything, only away from countless things. But here I was in a new city, starting a PhD, and becoming a runner seemed like the next logical thing someone with their act together would do. That’s who runners were to me: other people, more ambitious people, with perpetually flushed cheeks from all their healthy life decisions. But that day, on that trail, I was one of those people, despite my decision to eat not one, not two, but three waffles that morning. The Chair never remembered my name at any of the other practice runs, or any other department event for that matter, but I was introduced to a new me: someone who can eat three waffles (OK it was four) and still show up for a run. It had never occurred to me before that running could be a practice of reimagining yourself. And how fitting that this epiphany would take place on a trail whose own story is constantly rewritten.
Holy Terrain, the first chapter of 2022 by PRAISE ENDURANCE, honours the unique stories about how people fell in love with running, through gear designed for the shared terrains where those stories play out in sacred synchronicity. Whether you run to get fit, to stay fit, to meditate, to relieve stress, to challenge yourself, or to dazzle an old British literary scholar, each and every stride punctuates your personal story and joins it to the history of the terrain beneath your feet. These narratives are electrifying, poetic, side-splitting, charming, offbeat, even heartbreaking; they vibrate with feeling, released by the act of running on the same earth, and connect different bodies, across different times and different cultures, on the same wavelength. Not only do running stories change the land, but they also change the people who tell them, those who hear them, and the communities in which those stories circulate. PRAISE recently had the privilege to take part in one such transformative moment happening right now in Mexico City, where the enchanting story of its running culture is being written by every foot on the ground, spreading magic throughout streets. In return for those stories, for the life lessons, for the friendships, and for all the outstanding Mezcal, we dedicate Holy Terrain to you, Mexico City.

Luckily, endurance runs deep in Mexico—earth deep. When it comes to Mexico City in particular, that history of endurance is inscribed in the land itself. As one of the oldest and most populous cities in North America, the metropolis exemplifies the tangible connection between people and land. The incredibly diverse landscapes of Mexico City have preserved the narratives of the people who shaped the land over thousands of years: the remaining ruins of the holy city of Teotihuacán continue to give up the secrets of ancient civilizations; the Mexico City basin and its disappearing lake bear witness to the deadly politics of water, a geological document that tells of times of conquest, colonization, revolution, and a climate crisis; and the volcanoes Popocatépetl and Iztaccíhuatl, visible from the city, are emblematic of the land and people, born of fire and built upon eruptions. Because above all, the ruins, the basin, the volcanoes, the people, the quaking earth itself—they all remain and share in a legacy of profound endurance. The poet José Emilio Pacheco movingly called Mexico City the “City of Memory,” evoking a hazy world of pain and beauty fiercely loved and protected by its residents. So yeah, Mexico can handle Trump’s dumb tweets and Jax Taylor on margaritas.

And like so much of life in Mexico City, the running culture PRAISE got to witness a sliver of as it continues to grow and be written, is centered on the idea of sharing, whether that means sharing the streets, sharing a meal and a drink, or sharing moments in time. For a visitor, running provides an instant connection to the openness and generosity of the people of Mexico City. If you happen to be out for a run at dawn, chances are you’ll bump into Sindo and the large DROMO Run Crew at some point. DROMO is one of CDMX’s many run crews and they personify the commitment, endurance, and beauty the PRAISE team observed all over the city. The CDMX’s running community are a shockingly positive bunch considering the sacrifices that come with having to run before 6 AM, which means less night life and more early dinners, planning, and preparation. On top of it, seeing results from all those sacrifices on your body and in your practice takes time. But some gains are more immediate and maybe even more meaningful, like discovering your own mental and physical strength, and benefitting from the strength of others. Running can be done alone but, as the COVID lockdowns have shown us, the collective energy of a community of people born in different years, working in different fields, approaching running from different angles, united purely by a love of running, can make you feel like anything is possible. In a heavily populated city, a shared passion for running allows people who otherwise might never meet to get to know each other.

Running looks very different from the outside, but if you let your guard down and give into it in Mexico City, you will be rewarded with better understanding of its colourful neighborhoods, parks, sunrises, and outstanding people. These are just some of the lessons Mexico City has to offer the world, at a time when the pandemic has created so much unbreathable space between people and communities. Their running community reminds us that no distance is too far and no space is impossible to re-imagine. The stories we tell about the ground we run on shapes our sense of belonging, and where we belong is on the same ground. PRAISE is immensely grateful to CDMX for letting us be part of this chapter in their running history. Their story brought us back to life and we can’t wait to return. Mexico City, you deserve praise. ¡Salud!
Written by Jess Elkaim in collaboration with the designers and creators behind PRAISE ENDURANCE.