Category: Women’s Adventure Scholarship

1st Annual Women’s Adventure Scholarship Winner: Bobbi Barbarich

With growing anticipation and excitement for our Second Annual Women’s Adventure Scholarship for the 2021 season, we wanted to highlight the incredible women who were chosen from our first scholarship round.  With over 250 women sharing their insights, experiences and motivations as runners, it was deeply humbling and inspiring to read the applications for women all across the globe who have found a great sense of meaning and connection to lacing up their runners and hitting the trails!

One of three Women’s Adventure Scholarship winners was awarded to Bobbi Barbarich from Nelson, British Columbia, joining us for Aspire’s Women Sawtooth Backcountry Trip! 

For Bobbi, getting out on the trails has been a beautiful way to “experience the outdoors, and feel gratitude in moving through nature”  When speaking of general fears and barriers for women out on the trails, she spoke in depth about the challenges faced when running solo and the differences between female and male experiences on the trails. 

“The general belief that women are at risk when they are alone, or without men. That women who do adventure alone or with other women are somehow special or have specific traits that make them more successful than other women and that is the only reason they can adventure alone. That there is space for only a few women adventurers, and they must compete with each other or be better than men in order to be out there. That gear must be specific to women, rather than just good quality gear. That we must look good while using it. That we are constantly expected to be desirable to men, to society, in order to appreciate what our bodies are capable of. We must overcome all these innate perceptions, expectations impressed upon us since birth, before we even put on our shoes”

However, regardless of these barriers, Bobbi has overcome incredible feats in her own running experience. 

“Completing an ultra trail race 15 years after a compression fracture and herniated disk. I was told I’d never be able to run again and I felt a strong disconnect from nature for a very long time. I did a lot of other sports, but nothing felt like running. When I finally shed ideas of old injuries and worked to make them a strength, running came back to me and I haven’t looked back. It’s harder than it used to be, but I’m more fulfilled and grateful for what our bodies and minds are capable of doing. I have a new, respectful relationship with myself.”

With Bobbi’s insight, passion, and resilience we want to share her final essay submission from our Adventure Scholarship. 

When I was little, I would explore animal trails that snaked up and down the valley around our house in the wilds of northern Alberta. I was an adventurer discovering new lands; comfortable with being lost, confident that the home I built from branches was sturdy.  

But as I grew up, I learned that the valley was stalked by murderous bears,  that the creek could possibly swell and swallow me whole, and my shelter wouldn’t keep out the rain, much less someone coming to hurt me. I learned I should never be there alone. The wild was no place for a girl. 

When I got older, I started running. I ran because someone said I was fat because I was expected not to be what I was because I was supposed to want boys to want me but they couldn’t if I was like this.  

I did not run on the trails I knew well, where the grass tickled my ankles and the ground underfoot was soft. I ran on the road where people could see me if I  needed help, where my parents could come get me when it was time to do the chores. I ran where I could measure just how far I was going, so I could fit onto a  boy’s lap without hurting him. 

On one particular day, the road stretched forever in front of me. Heatwaves rippled from the gravel, into the endless blue sky where the raging sun bore into my head. It struck me the road was part of a constructed world. And I realized that running further would not change the reasons why I was running on the road.  

So I stopped. And I walked home, but I stayed on the road because I did feel unsafe. I did feel I could not go where I wanted, though I couldn’t remember where that was. 

Slowly, I felt for the piece of me that was missing. I started looking for it. I  read books about wild adventures that told me this female body was capable of great things. I rode bikes and played roller derby and started my own business and left the man who told me I had become too intimidating for him to love.  

I found a river valley in the city with paths that felt impossibly familiar. I  started running again, following dirt trails that snaked below city maps. I learned this body I struggled so hard to confine was powerful. It would carry me through dark forests and onto windy peaks. I ventured safely into shady corners on mountainsides. Not only was I okay there, but it where I could grow, unconstructed. 

I found the piece that would get lost in the wild, the part of me that would find her own way home, was right where I had been told to leave her. And she was happy I’d come back. 

As one of three chosen Adventure Scholarship winner’s Bobbi joined us for our Women’s Sawtooth Backtrouny adventure. Her post-trip report is below:

Running is a nearly universal experience. Whether it was playing tag in elementary school, knocking out 5km for a charity or chasing after the bus this morning, most of us have run at least a few steps in our lives.

This universality is also why running makes a good metaphor: many people have some familiarity with what it feels like to run, whether or not they like it. I completed the Sawtooth Backcountry Women’s Retreat with Aspire as the culmination of a year of pushing through mental and medical barriers. Fittingly, Sawtooth was rife with metaphorical opportunities. Here are my top three musings from a long, challenging and totally gratifying journey:

We’re all in this together. I consider running a solitary endeavor and it indulges my introverted insecurities. Alone, I cannot compare my perceived weaknesses to others. Although I signed up for a group running trip with Aspire, I did so to feel comfortable in a new landscape, without the obligation of running with others. 

However, a few days prior to the trip Abram sent us a message: the trail would be snow-covered and to stay safe, we would need to stay together. Alarm bells screamed through my head. I would frantically try to keep up, then I’d bonk, and everyone would be annoyed with me.

Instead, our guide gave us the lead and together, we settled into a pace to manage the challenging terrain. We commiserated together through miles of frozen post-hole footsteps from a previous hiker and skidded down an icy luge a dirt bike had left on the trail. Many times I swore as I caught myself from falling on my butt. Yet in hearing others’ near misses, I realized this was as difficult for them as it was for me. And somehow, that made it better. Had I been alone, I would have thrown down my poles in a tantrum and walked out of there. Instead, after a comical eternity, we were back on dirt and elated, laughing at what a disaster we’d just ran through.

One step at a time. There’s no greater truth while running long distances. You can stand still and stay where you are, or you can take one more step and get a little closer to where you’re going. Because of the snow, we rerouted to another trail and had planned on a shuttle to get back to camp. Later during the day, we opted to cancel the shuttle and just run back to camp. We weren’t sure how far from camp we were, but it seemed close

The road descended out of the subalpine for not two or three, but seven unexpected miles. This was the furthest several of us had ever run, and without the comfort of camp in sight, we’d have to keep running. My legs were rubber and the naysayers in my head yelled at me to stop. But as the sun disappeared behind the mountain, cool shadow drifted over my shoulders, and we kept moving. The world suddenly felt very simple. I could keep running, or I could stay right where I was. I could push through this challenge, or give up and have someone come save me. Without a word, we chose to keep moving. And eventually, inevitably, we returned to camp. Cheers from the crew, copious salty snacks and a warm fire greeted us. I was exhausted, but with an unexpected confidence in what my body was capable of doing. I’d run the furthest of my life simply by taking another step.

Where there’s pain, there’s growth. The first time I ever went running, I managed to go about 200 metres. It was the longest I had ever run at once. And it hurt like hell. I was crying and sweating and full of agony. I had wanted to run beyond the horizon, so I vowed to keep running those 200 until I could run 400. Then it was a mile. When I ran my first marathon, I almost didn’t toe the line because that would be the furthest ever. Four kilometres from the finish line, when I could barely muster the next step, a woman near me kept repeating, “Anyone can run 4km.” I knew I could do that, so I did. Running my first ultra, I thought I would die after a bad reaction to caffeine and poor nutrition. But I somehow made it and now I was running in the Backcountry of the Sawtooth mountains. In every pain cave is an opportunity to get stronger.

My weekend at the  Sawtooth Women’s Retreat was the furthest I’d ever run, with people I’d never met and beyond any comfort level, I’d encountered. I’m more comfortable and confident with discomfort… And the journey is just getting started.

With applications for our Second Annual Women’s Adventure Scholarship open, we’d love to hear from you! Head on over to ____ to apply!!

1st Annual Women’s Adventure Scholarship Winner: Janel Lanphere

With growing anticipation and excitement for our Second Annual Women’s Adventure Scholarship for the 2021 season, we wanted to highlight the incredible women who were chosen from our first scholarship round.  With over 250 women sharing their insights, experiences and motivations as runners, it was deeply humbling and inspiring to read the applications for women all across the globe who have found a great sense of meaning and connection to lacing up their runners and hitting the trails!

One of three Women’s Adventure Scholarship winners was awarded to Janel Lanphere from Flagstaff, Arizona. Janel joined us for three epic days running around Mount Rainer along the Wonderland trail! 

Janel has a powerful story. As a victim of teenage abuse, running through remote and wild spaces has taught her ‘the importance of play and the calm confidence of the flow state’ while being a powerful tool to combat her ‘inner demons’. Her passion for running has become an integral part of her life as it ‘fuels [her] creative energy, dispel stress, is [her] time alone, time with friends, lets [her] be competitive, adventurous and above all feel free, strong and connected to nature”. 

With women facing many fears, challenges and obstacles to get out and explore wild places, Janel believes it’s still possible, especially with other women along your side. 

“Fear will stop all of us if we let it. Challenges can be overcome with experience but are best in small steps. Wilderness spaces can make it seem harder for women without proper training and preparedness. The only way to get this is by trying, going with someone more knowledgeable and learning. If you don’t have a mentor it can be extremely challenging, daunting. As a woman, it can be hard to find a woman mentor and male mentoring relationships are very difficult: avoiding romantic advances or spouses not getting the wrong idea is just a few of the difficulties. Finding a respectful mentoring relationship is the holy grail. I have preferred to learn on my own over time. I’m sure this approach has slowed my progress, I hope to change that for up-and-coming women.”

Janel has also allowed her own experiences in trail running to inspire and show other women we are so much more capable than we often believe!  Reflecting back on her experience at the Moab Trail Marathon 2018 Masters Woman National Champion, she had quite the day!

“I started the race extremely nauseous from some medication I stopped taking without weening appropriately, by mile 11 I had solved the nausea with ginger and tums, but hadn’t eaten much or hydrated properly. By mile 20 I felt amazing and finished the second half of the race faster than the first. Winning the National Championship Masters Woman’s Division was never in my mind that day, but it happened and I still can’t fathom it. It was a day defined by not giving up and problem solving. That race flipped a switch in my brain that we CAN INDEED do more than we think we are capable of and now I know for sure. I’m proud of racing well, but most of all I am proud of finally finding the space in my brain to accept exactly what is happening instead of listening to the negative voice and giving up!”

With Janel’s grit, resilience, and passion we want to share her final essay submission from our Adventure Scholarship. 

Adventuring through remote and wild spaces has taken my life from a teenage abuse victim attempting to be small and invisible, to conquering my inner demons.  It has taught me the importance of play and the calm confidence of the flow state.

Growing up in a blue-collar family, the values taught to me included a perceived lack of opportunity, the need to work hard just to get by, and a negative association with play (play was for the rich).  Long hours at manual labor jobs with added DIY projects at home were common.  With these values, I started working at 8 years old and have never stopped.

I started running in college and through the miles of pack running, sharing failures and success with sweat and tears, the comradery of the Cross-Country Team drew me out of my depression.  Slowly I started to see myself in a different light, as a person who could set an intention and live a little bigger.  I moved across the country to Arizona where I didn’t know a soul and persevered when acclimating to high altitude running at 7000’.  I started running mountain races such as Imogene Pass Run and TransRockies Run.  Each exploration removed fear and with increased success in problem solving, I started really believing in myself.  

The personal growth continued upon meeting and marrying my husband, I now had the confidence to take the leap and become a wife and stepmother.  Together we explored remote areas of the Southwest such as Canyonlands National Park and I felt a new inner hum while staring at the night sky with no artificial light in sight.  I started seeking out more remote trails, running longer hours feeling the state of flow.  Often alone, I explored more inaccessible locations and relished the hours playing.  Longer hours on the trails required increased physical and mental strength.  General physical bad-assery doesn’t carry you by itself, we also need to control our minds.  Often after many hours on the trail, when the body starts to break down, old demons would crawl to the surface and remind me of the small life from which I came.  

Recently, when hopelessness set in at the start of a race, I pushed the demons away without any reason to be confidence.  My start at the 2018 Moab Trail Marathon found me badly nauseous from a prescription I stopped taking for the race.  The nausea prevented me from eating my usual pre-race nutrition, I felt things were stacking against me.  When the nausea subsided at mile 11, I was so far back that I didn’t think I could compete.  By accepting the situation, I broke through a mental barrier and ended the race 1^st place woman in the Master’s Division of the USATF field.  Consequently, by adventuring in the remote and wild spaces in nature, I’ve been able to accept the remote and wild spaces in my mind.

As one of three chosen Adventure Scholarship winner’s Janel joined us along the Wonderland Trail, stretching 93 miles over three days around the majestic peak of Mount Rainer.  Her post-trip report is below:

What do you do when something scares you?  Avoid it or confront it? What about those events that look amazing, but you don’t have the confidence?  Do you make a training plan and stick to it, like you know you should? Or do you put it off for when you have more time, or the kids are older, or when you have the money saved?  Well, none of these excuses worked for me. I won the 2019 Women’s Scholarship Award for the Wonderland Circumnavigation around Mt. Rainier in Washington State. I had to get on board, fast.

I learned that I won the Wonderland trip only a few months before the mid-August trip, giving me mere weeks of preparation time. It was a bit too close for comfort. The short story is that my training did prepare me well for the trip, but this discussion is about the mind.  The preparation I really needed was to start to believe in myself.

Piecing a big goal into smaller steps has always worked for me in the past, so I decided to try it here. Working on my training plan, I added two extreme days that were similar time commitments to the expected days on the Wonderland trip.  

On my first extreme day I paced my friend Helen Galerakis in her first 100-mile race- The Bighorn 100.  Pacing her for around 20 miles wasn’t going to be enough of a time commitment, so I added a warm up/research run and a run to and from the last aid station. The cumulative running over the two days was eleven hours, which qualified as the most running I had ever done over that short time period.  My mindset was expanded on this run. Not only were the muddy conditions something to be endured, but pacing throughout the night and into the dawn was challenging, as well as beautiful. I was inspired by my friend’s grit and strength, and my body and mind handled it fine. I was feeling lighter and not as concerned about the Wonderland Trail.

For my second extreme day, I registered for a 12 hr lap-style race.  The Parhelic Circle Trail Race is hosted by local company Sundog Running.  I was a little concerned that this event was just two weeks before the Wonderland Trail trip, and would be my longest amount of time running.  It scared the crap out of me! In past long runs, the pain started to set in around the 20-mile mark. The thought of continuing on for hours and hours after that seemed unfathomable.  In the end, I made it to 36 miles- which not only was the farthest I had run in a single day, but it also matched the longest distance (day 1) on the Wonderland Trip.  

In my essay submission to the Women’s Scholarship, I wrote about conquering my inner demons from childhood abuse.  In last year’s Trail Marathon Championship race, I had no reason to be confident as I hadn’t been able to eat/drink due to nausea and in spite of that, I was able to quiet those demons for the first time.  Accepting the situation and taking the Championship race one mile at a time allowed me to solve the nausea problem and get back in the race to finish as Master’s Women’s Champion. In the 12-hour Parhelic I dissected the race one lap at a time. This allowed me to put energy into the task at hand, instead of succumbing to anxiety and fear. I could feel a shift. I was starting to believe in myself and I wanted to do more.

The night before the start of the Women’s Wonderland Trip we shared some of our stories and experiences that led us here.  The apprehensive tension was in the air but instead of hierarchical competitive energy focusing on things like who was the best among us, who had the most experience or fastest time, a sense of community was developing.  In the company of women I didn’t hear these intimidating questions. Each of us entering an unspoken pact to take care of one another and make our way together, each at their own pace.

While training for this trip I spoke with several people. Some men who had taken on big goals and found their way to make it happen.  Those conversations focused on developing strength, finding my edge and taking chances. When I spoke to my female ultra-running friends the conversation was again, different.  The conversations focused on what was I going to find out about myself during the event and how this experience was going to change me. All of these points of view were helping me change the inner dialogue from one of fear from this unknown territory to preparing a space for something else. 

Ready or not, it was time to put one foot in front of the other.  Starting out with nervous energy, I had the good fortune of having a similar overall pace to Sarah and Paula-two inspiring women I got to know well over the trip.  We leapfrogged many times over the miles, each having our strengths and accepting each other’s decisions to push or hold back the pace based on the terrain at hand.   Day one ended with a mind-melting climb up to Mowich Lake Campground. I struggled hard. Having only taken one pole with me (with the inaccurate idea that one pole is really all you need) I was losing the battle.  Paula kindly lent me one of her poles as I was ascending at a much slower pace than she was. It was my turn to accept the community Paula, Sarah and I had developed over the miles on the trail.  

Day two went off without a hitch. Paula, Sarah and I again ran together.  It was a beautiful run in such amazing country with great company. For day three Paula, Sarah and I discussed our plans: Paula planned to push to do the entire distance. I planned to stop early at Box Canyon and Sarah was going to see how she felt.  Even though we had differing plans, we decided to start the day together. Within the first few miles, I caught my last glimpse of Paula and Sarah and never met up with them again. This made for a day alone on the trail, and although my familiar mental demons stayed away, new anxiety came in its place.  

One of the challenges for me on this trip was the point-to-point nature of circumnavigating a mountain. While Aspire provided maps and route information, and the Wonderland Trail was marked at junctions,  I struggled more than I expected with the lack of trail markings and flags. As my mental control was declining on day three after hours of being alone in unfamiliar country, I had a long low point.  Fear of bears and cougars set in and took hold. As I neared the end of the day my mind starting playing tricks on me, but then I saw a pencil on the ground and my heart leaped at the idea that someone else was up ahead!  Seconds later I discovered it wasn’t a pencil, after all, just a stick. It happened again with a rock- it looked like a pack. But it wasn’t, I was hallucinating objects of civilization just to calm my anxiety of being alone. 

Even though there was a trail sweeper behind me, I had completely forgotten about them. I sure was happy to find myself in Box Canyon at my chosen end to day three and to see the Aspire Adventure Running crew waiting. I sat down, started to eat and immediately felt myself falling asleep. I was more fatigued than I realized.  I was so happy with what I had accomplished and at peace with my decision to stop a few miles early.

Grit, intelligence and community are just a few of the qualities of the women I met on this amazing trip.  The qualities of people who work their way up, take on big challenges and find a way to make them happen. They speak up or provide care for the greater good. These are my people.  It was an honor and a privilege to share in the collective shift in consciousness as each of us moved into a space unknown, redefining how we think about running and really how we think about ourselves.

With applications for our Second Annual Women’s Adventure Scholarship open, we’d love to hear from you! Head on over to ____ to apply!!