[Editor’s Note: This article discusses the topic of suicide. We ask those sensitive to the issue to proceed gently.]
It was just over a month ago that the world lost Megan Kimmel, a mountain runner, entrepreneur, bodyworker, family member, friend, and dog mom. Earlier this week, we remembered her in front of the glorious Sneffels Range at her celebration of life outside of her home in Ridgway, Colorado.
Friends gather at Megan Kimmel’s celebration of life. Photo courtesy of Zach Miller.
In the distance, in Ouray and Lake City, fires burned, destruction and rebirth all in one. In a way, it was fitting. We had come because of a death, yet we celebrated a life. The harsh reality of why we were gathered wasn’t ignored. The hurt, the pain, the seriousness, and the sadness of death at one’s own hand were fully acknowledged. The space felt sad and strong all at once. Mostly, it felt conflicting, like no one knew quite what to do or how to move on. There were forward steps by some, impressive ones at that, but the walk felt heavy and long.
We sang in the meadow, prayer flags blowing in the breeze, and the mountains towering in the distance. We hugged and chatted, then wandered off.
It was a good time to have friends around.
Friends in the Mountains
Afterward, my wife Jess, friend Peter Maksimow, and I climbed in the bus and left. We drove out of Ridgway and found a spot to pull over and sleep for the night. We stayed up a bit, talking about Megan, the service, and the heavy, perplexing topic of suicide. We drifted off to sleep, then awoke and headed to Lake City to run with our buddy Brandon Stapanowich, who was scouting lines for the High Five 100 Mile outside of Lake City, an open-course race in the San Juan Mountains.
We spent the afternoon trekking up and down Sunshine Peak. Like the past few days, it was hard, yet beautiful. It was a good day for company.
Peter Maksimow, Brandon Stapanowich, and Zach Miller atop a peak in the San Juan Mountains. Photo courtesy of Zach Miller.
We finished our run, bathed in the river, grabbed some food in town, and hit the road. About four hours later, we found ourselves back home in Manitou Springs. Jess and I went to bed and slept for a long time. When we finally got up, it was past noon. I walked outside to the bus and tidied it up a bit while Jess made pancakes. We sat on the front porch and ate. It was a beautiful summer day.
Living With Style
After pancakes, Jess hooked up the bike cart and rode to the grocery store while I went out for a run. With my run at the 2026 Western States 100 in the rearview, I picked a vert-heavy route and leaned in. Sometimes I ran, other times I pulled out the poles and hiked. I enjoy this sort of ebb and flow. It’s the rhythm of the mountains, smooth and harmonious.
As I picked my way across the mountains that evening, I thought of Megan. My thoughts weren’t overly focused. It was more of a mood than a conclusion. Mostly, I thought about Megan’s style. She was a crusher in competition, but in person, she was low-key and chill. At least that’s what I experienced, and others expressed the same.
To be honest, I didn’t know Megan very well. We shared a love of mountain running, and our paths crossed a bit, but the words we exchanged were few. We were more acquaintances than friends. I don’t want to speculate about who she was or pretend to know her better than I did. What I want to acknowledge is that her life and her passing made me feel something.
A few days prior to racing Western States this year, Finn Melanson of the Run Singletrack podcast asked me about something I once said in a film about my running. It was something to the effect that if you are only winning races, you’re wasting a gift. I think what I was trying to express is that running is about more than an objective win or loss. Sure, the objective piece is part of it, but so is the subjective side.
The former may earn bonuses, titles, and qualifying spots, but the latter speaks to people. It awes and inspires. It spurs smiles and tears. It’s what makes running entertaining to watch and certain runners so fun to follow.
Smoke in the San Juan Mountains. Photo courtesy of Zach Miller.
If you learn about Megan, you’ll quickly see that she was objectively good at running. She won stuff, simple as that. But, if you listen to people talk about Megan, it seems she was even better at the subjective side, and not just in running, but also in life. To put it simply, Megan had style.
As I neared the end of my run that night around the trails of home, I spotted a lone headlamp climbing up the side of Iron Mountain. I was ascending from the opposite direction, and as I got to the junction of the two trails, my suspicion was confirmed: The lamp belonged to Jess, who had returned from the store and come out for an evening summit. We finished the climb together, pausing at the top to chat and take in the view. Then we ran home.
I like to think that this is something Megan would have done, that she would have been more interested in the subjective beauty of the moment than the objective statistics of the run. So many times, we get obsessed with life’s objectives: wins, records, and achievements. Megan showed us that there is more than that, that you can achieve such things without being defined by them. So here’s to learning from Megan and living our lives, not in someone else’s style, or by another’s definition, but in our own way and rhythm.
Otherwise, we’re wasting the gift.
Call for Comments
- When have you experienced the importance of friends in the mountains?
- In what style do you try to live your life?
