22 Days of 50ks for LGBTQ+ Youth
It started out as the time to unlock my mind and connect with my body, but after my third 50k exploring southern Maine something was weighing on my heart.
Since I was a child I have lived with anxiety and depression. I have had thoughts of self-harm and lingering feelings of deep pain and despair. Being queer did not help. It generally made amplified even the most common of awkward adolescent experiences. I didn’t have role models or mentors that I could open up to about myself because even therapists I encountered were closed-minded and even blamed my queerness on my anxiety, depression, or personal trauma.
I came to running because my father was a runner. But I stayed with running because it was the one space I could freely let my thoughts roam, bubble up, and release. Even though I was not out in high school or most of college, I did have some key mentors in running that help me become the queer mentor and coach I needed.
My Tipping Point to take action…
During the pandemic, the mental impact of Covid hit me quite hard. My students and athletes watched classes and events get canceled and the world shifted into a very digital space. The borders around each student and athlete’s zoom window started to feel like an actual border of separation.
With so much of the world shut down, I encouraged my athletes and students to use this time as an opportunity to explore new ways to connect with themselves and loosen the reigns on their training. I took my own advice.
In September 2021 I decided to take a month away from coaching and teaching and check-in with myself. And the first thought was to walk out my front door and go as far as my legs could carry me. So with a hydration vest packed full, I did just that. At 34.3 miles I felt done for the day and called my wife to come and get me.
I kept waking up and repeating this process. Some days it was a 50k some days it was 20 miles in the mountains of Maine.
But on a particular weekend before planning to go for yet another 50k I was reading an article about the rate of suicide increasing in LGBTQ+ youth as a result of isolation in the pandemic. My heart sank because I had recently lost a queer youth I had taught to suicide. I thought about the staggering statistics of 1 LGBTQ+ youth (between ages of 13-24) contemplating suicide every :45 and I actually set my watch to go off at that timer for the duration of my 50k that day. (Statistic from the Trevor Project).
As each beep sounded I thought of a youth sitting somewhere in the U.S. thinking this life is too much and wanting theirs to end. I couldn’t even make it an hour before the beeping of my watch became too much and I broke down into tears on the trail.
In 6.5 hours that equals 520 youth in the United States who contemplated suicide. (And that’s just what is reported). At the end of the run, I wanted to find a way to raise money to help LGBTQ+ youth with mental health struggles feel supported and know that they are not alone in the fight.
I thought of the Trevor Project immediately and then tried to think of the best way to raise the most money for the cause. I know too personally that it’s easier to get someone to donate to cancer than it is lgbtqia+ issues. So I knew it would take something big. And since I was finding the 50k distance so mentally healing for me personally the idea popped in my head, “I wonder what the World Record for most consecutive 50k’s would be?”
Google search showed 11 was the female record, and 21 was the male record. So I decided on 22. If I ambitiously ran 6.5 hours every day for my 50ks that would come out to 11,440 lgbtq+ youth that thought about suicide. It gives me 11,440+ reasons to keep moving my legs. I want LGBTQIA+ youth to know that they are not alone. I want the younger Kirsten who fits the statistic of contemplation of suicide as a young queer teen to know, it gets better. That the darkness doesn’t define us and it doesn’t require us to escape it. It’s okay if you are not okay. No one is 100% of the time. But their life matters. And it matters so much for me that I’m willing to put myself out there to remind others to reach out to the LGBTQ+ youth. Don’t assume they are okay. Become a safe space for them.
And I also want them to see a queer athlete thriving. I have been where they are, but I have become stronger and know now who loves and supports me the most.
I know that sometimes it takes an event or moment to shake our train of thought and help us break the cycle. I hope this event can be that for as many LGBTQIA Youth as possible.
Why 50k?
Ultramarathon running requires a different level of mental sharpness. It often pulls us into dark places and helps us emerge on the other side of it wiser for the lessons— even if we are also a little more physically worn from it.
I want every LGBTQIA+ youth to know that I stand with them. Not just for the easy miles and the quick jogs. I’m here for the dark hours when things feel impossible, the highs when you feel unstoppable, and everything in between.
Why the Trevor Project?
The Trevor Project is the world’s largest suicide prevention and crisis intervention organization for LGBTQ+ young people.
The Trevor Project estimates that at least one LGBTQIA+ youth between the ages of 13 and 24 attempts suicide every 45 seconds in the U.S.
In 2021, 19% of LBGTQIA+ youth ages 13-18 and 8.3% of youth ages 19-24 reported attempting suicide. If you apply these rates to the estimated number of LGBTQ+ youth in the U.S. results estimated 503,073 LGBTQ+ youth between 13-18 and 209,917 LGBTQ+ youth between 19-24 who attempted suicide in the last year. That’s a total of 712,990 LGBTQ+ youth.
How can you help?
Through donations on my page here, signing up to run a few miles with me in person in Maine, or committing to virtual miles where you can share the #50ksforLGBTQYouth.
