“With Luck and Love” performance tees available for purchase. Super limited sizes and quantity. We will not reprint these. Local pick-up in Bay Area only. 🤳 Please DM @_agmendoza for more info! 🎨 Designed by @mylinhion 🤖 First slide is AI generated 📷 Photographs by @_agmendoza @los.vybes @frank.oven @jearski & @rborsdorf

05.09 LAKE MERRITTHON can’t get enough of relays⚡️ shoutout @oaklandtrackclub for putting on their 4th annual Lake Merritthon🤩 a beautiful day full of great energy & some SUPA fast runners🏃🏽‍♂️💨 @milesoverbarriers pulled up to get in on the action with 3 teams and all killed it❤️‍🔥

“There are decades where nothing happens; and there are weeks where decades happen.” ― Vladimir Lenin From the moment Jeremy asked if I wanted to do TSP this year – M.O.B. is running it back! But this time there was an air of secrecy. SF to LV: The side-quest to end all side-quests. The longest distance TSP has ever attempted to organize. But we couldn’t formally announce it until the race started. “Secretos.” Because the route was untested we spent weeks of planning. I was on the route committee, the media crew, oh yeah and runner. Weeks of training my body to handle the miles. For photos, I wanted to shoot all film. 35mm and medium format. Conservatively, I brought four cameras. Fuji GA465, Mamiya M645 Pro, Olympus Mju II, and my brand new Contax G1 picked up only a week before TSP. Hopefully I could capture everyone in the good light. I knew about half of my M.O.B. teammates already but many I would meet for the first time only weeks before we set sailed. New relationships bring new experiences. Opportunities to learn new things about yourself. Like what is your relationship to radical vulnerability? How can you always show up as your authentic self without fear? Learning new things about yourself at age 46 is crazy. The most important thing I learned from my teammates that week, was also the most important thing I learned about myself – I learned that I belonged.

Dear 2021 Nash, It’s 3am at the Extra Mile in Baker, CA. Your camera batteries are most certainly dead. But don’t fall asleep yet. There’s a lesson in that zip-tied exhaust pipe. A permanence in the temporary blue painter’s tape on the window. On the hour, every hour is less a phrase, and more a way to live. Listen to Nils and Scotty. Pay close attention. Closer than you think you need to. Get a little lost in it all. Find rest where you can. And go to the after party. Give everything you have— and maybe a little more. Good people are waiting for you. Good things, too. I feel so grateful all of life led me to these new friends running from SF to LV. Eternally stoked. Photos by Robert Borsdorf, Franky Nevárez and Carlos Courtade on MOB @milesoverbarriers @rborsdorf @frank.oven @los.vybes I have no words for what life is like now, but it is absolutely bigger and more beautiful than I could have ever imagined. Song is a Cover of Everybody Wants to Rule the World by Tears for Fears that just felt right. Welcome to your life ✨

The kind of experience that hurts when it ends because it meant everything while it was happening. TSP & these people meant everything to me. Some feelings are too big for words, so for now I’ll just hold it all in my heart. 📸: @frank.oven @ryn.dns @colleenbean @conolulu

There’s a certain level of vulnerability that you need to submit to when you’re facing 600 miles. There’s nothing glamorous about your body laying broken in the back of an RV. You’re either laying underneath or on top of random clothes that belongs to about seven different people. The ride in the RV so bumpy that your entire torso lifts up off the bed and slams the overhead cabinets. Wet wipe showers are standard. My hair was “doing its own thing.” After completing one of most challenging segments of the race, (13.6 miles unsupported through the Mojave) the van took us back to the RV where most of the team was still sleeping. Without many places to lay down, I curled up into passenger seat at the front of the RV and that was my bed for the night. I take pride in being a vegan athlete but when McDonalds is your only option for food at 3am at a rest stop in Baker, CA, it was painful ordering three apple pies. Literally the only thing on the menu I could eat. I combined them and made an apple pie sandwich. At least they had wifi. I passed out in the booth while trying to charge my phone. During the safety meeting before the race, @nils_877 mentioned something about the April 1 full moon in Libra, a pink moon. It represented an emotional “ego death” experience. I think breaking down one’s ego is a monumental lifelong journey which I will probably never come close to but running through the desert, outsides and insides covered in dust, I might have made a tiny dent. Photos: @frank.oven , @jearski , @carlaagaby , @_agmendoza , @ryn.dns , @sramii , @nash.howe

When we slapped techno through this whole powerline segment 🔋🔌 @milesoverbarriers @thespeedproject 🎥📸 @calebroc_runs @frank.oven @frankdotfilm @sramii @carlaagaby @ven___j

We ran. We saw. We conquered. 600+ miles to be specific. Our friends from @milesoverbarriers , laced up the Aero Razor and hit the ground running from San Francisco to Las Vegas. Showing us the only barriers are the ones you create for yourself! 🏃🏽‍♂️🔥 📸: @frank.oven , @jearski , @rborsdorf

Runner’s log: TSP SFLV Day 4 We stood in a dirt staging area, a temporary outpost where the curated world of @hoka and MDPS activations provided a brief, incongruous intersection with the reality of the desert. There were interviews, words spoken into mics about a journey that had already outpaced the utility of a lexicon to explain it. After, we set off to better understand the lore of the infamous Powerline segment. The air was surprisingly cool, but it was a headwind, a scouring force that carried a fine, alkaline dust across the landscape. To the left and right, the LALV teams— @netcxtsp , @paramountrunning , @krctsp from what I recall reading in blue tape spanned across their dusted vehicles; the elite infrastructure of the Los Angeles circuit—began to surge past us with the mechanical precision of a freight train. We met this momentum with 400m repeats, a rhythmic and punishing cadence that turned the afternoon into a series of short, violent sprints against the wind. As we cleared Powerlines, we moved onto Primm Road, aptly self-titled as Telephone Lines, and the landscape became even more demanding for its total lack of distraction. Primm felt like a study in minimalism: flat, windy, and devoid of landmarks. There were no views, only the distant, shimmering suggestion of the city we were trying to reach, a mirage that refused to grow larger. It was a psychological vacuum where the only feedback was the grit in our teeth and the persistent ache in our joints. The road continued to require negotiation. This time in a sustained, silent persistence against a horizon that offered no comfort and seemingly no end. Photo/video creds: @frank.oven @jhidori.runs @evidentlyeven

stripped of color, full of ____ mob&w. bridge the bay. sf.ca @sfrunco @runningwyldersf @a.runners.mind @asicsrunning @milesoverbarriers

My @thespeedproject told by @rborsdorf 📷 @milesoverbarriers I love all the pictures and videos from all our family members. Wish I could squeeze all of them into one post. This were some of my favorites from Rob. Thank you for telling our story. For making us feel like athletes. Thanks for Documenting our crazy yet beautiful side. I hope that through this images you can feel the pain and joy I felt every leg. I hope you can feel the pride of running alongside this team. Everytime I was tagged in or tagged someone in. I felt this rush crawling up my arms and into my heart, which sent this spark through my body. At times I got goosebumps, maybe it was the cold windy night. Maybe it was some sort of force that gave us the strength to endure the pain and run all out over and over again. We ran so fast, we got to that finish line a day ahead of schedule. We joked around previous to the race. What if we got there Saturday. And then we did. Really early Saturday too. I saw my brothers and sisters fighting every single leg. Some I knew were fighting more than fatigue and sleep deprivation. And they never slowed down. I knew my team needed me to be strong, to be smart, to be resilient. We shared laughs, jokes, songs, tears, and a roller coaster of emotions. For some of us the physical pain was necessary because our hearts needed a break. We held eachother, we pushed eachother, we motivated eachother. We all knew what every step felt like, what every breath, what fighting against the wind, the heat, the cold, the rain felt like. But only we knew, how we felt inside. Together one mile at a time, sometimes even less, we worked hard until we reached that finish line. No spectators, that meant that for most of the race we were all we had. We only had eachother to lean on. And the whatsapp channel and IG stories where we checked in on our other teams and lived their journey through the phone Hearing, so and so just ran their fastest mile,so and so just hit a PR. That filled me up with Joy because I knew they were also fighting. I use to think crying showed weakness and maybe it does... but with moments like this. How could you not. Miles over barriers. 🤞🏼

There’s a point where everything in you says stop. Not because you’re done but because it’s hard. That’s where most people check out. That’s where they turn around. That’s where they settle. That point isn’t the end. If you can push past it, (even just a little) that’s where things start to separate. @milesoverbarriers @thespeedproject 📸 Thumbnail Cover: @frank.oven @frankdotfilm