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Don’t forget to raise a glass to General Ignacio Zaragoza’s 1862 victory against the French at the Battle of Puebla (yes, that’s the reason for Cinco de Mayo, and no, it’s not really much of a celebration in Mexico).
If one thing has helped to keep me sane during the coronavirus lockdown in NYC, it is that we have been able to continue running. Although Prospect Park is more crowded now that the weather has turned nice, Olmstead was smart when he designed it: There’s always another way to turn, a path which no one knows about, a hidden valley to run through and be totally alone.
The distinct pleasure of running a long distance (“long” is a relative term), is that the need to focus on your big problems just slips away. The first order of business is putting one foot in front of another. You must pace yourself, monitor your breathing, eventually take in the beauty of the trees and flowers. Lately these moments of respite have become even more meaningful as other avenues of recreation and exercise have been closed off.
Our route rarely varies, although lately we have shifted to side streets that are devoid of traffic and pedestrians. There are regular characters that we see most days, like the runner who always wears a yellow banana costume, only now he’s added a face mask. He’s a regular in a lot of the local races, such as the Brooklyn Half Marathon, which was just canceled. Then there’s the old man in the Yankees hat who always wheels himself around in his wheel chair, up and down the same block at the same time, rain or shine. He’s been doing that literally for years. Sometimes we see the guy who feeds the stray cats; he’s an odd one for sure and once mewed at our dog and said, “It’s not for you—it’s for the cats.”
Fundamentally, the joy of the run is that you can stop worrying (just make sure you follow the rules—keep six feet back, wear a mask, etc.), and actually catch a glimpse of what makes New York such a great city, its people. Pace yourself down Eastern Parkway, and you’ll catch a glimpse of the guys still playing dice on the corner, the Hare Krishna zooming around on a bike chanting, the guy having a conversation with himself and power-walking moms sharing the latest gossip. It’s the real deal. And if you go around 7 p.m., chances are you’ll get to hear the city cheering for itself. That moment is just about enough to make your heart burst. Go for a run. It’ll do you good.
Today’s Film: Lorena, La De Pies Ligeros (2019)
Mexican filmmakers have produced some of the most important films of the past twenty years, and choosing a film for Cinco de Mayo proved difficult. I was tempted to highlight something from one of the greats—Cuaron, Del Toro or Iñárritu—but instead I settled on a smaller, utterly unique documentary about an indigenous person from Chihuahua who runs ultramarathons. Lorena, La De Pies Ligeros (Lorena, Light-Footed Woman) is a short documentary directed by Mexican filmmaker Juan Carlos Rulfo and executive produced by actor Gael García Bernal, and it does what documentaries do best: show the audience a glimpse of a person’s life and a slice of the world that they’re unlikely to encounter otherwise.
Lorena Ramirez hails from a remote valley in mountainous Chihuahua—the stunning visuals alone make the film worth watching—and is a member of the Rarámuri indigenous group. Her family farms corn and goats and lives a four hour walk from the nearest settlement. The Ramirez family’s world is simultaneously small—the six of them live a life apart in an incredibly rural part of Mexico—and enormous. She and her father are both ultramarathon runners and often run 60-plus miles in a day. The money they win from races helps support the family, and Lorena’s incredible endurance and speed—she regularly wins major races and competes around the world in sandals and her indigenous dress—has also made her a low-key celebrity in the hyper-competitive world of elite endurance runners.
Perhaps the most incredible thing about Lorena’s success, though, is that running comes so naturally to her. Indeed, it’s a part of her family’s way of life. Their days are spent in constant motion moving about their farm, checking on remote cornfields and chasing runaway goats. They also run together as a family for recreation. While Lorena’s father wears running shoes, she rejects them—even when they’re given to her—in favor of her leather sandals.
The film is a moving depiction of a world class athlete and of a culture and way of life that is rarely seen. Despite being just 28 minutes long, the documentary is full of surprises. And although Lorena remains incredibly private and guarded, there are sparks of her personality that come through, like when she turns down the designer running shoes because the people she sees wearing them “are usually behind her.” I’ve included a short list of other Mexican films to watch this evening, but be sure to start with a pre-feature screening of Lorena, La De Pies Ligeros, and you’ll get to experience an entirely different existence, if only for a moment.
Lorena, La De Pies Ligeros (Lorena, Light-Footed Woman) is streaming on Netflix.
Four more contemporary films by Mexican directors:
Roma (2018) is an epic story of love and loss in 1970s Mexico City from director Alfonso Cuarón. It is a masterpiece and was a heavy contender at the Academy Awards, bringing home three for Foreign Feature, Cinematography and Directing. Streaming on Netflix.
The Shape of Water (2017) may take place in a lab in Nowheresville, USA and star a Creature from the Black Lagoon lookalike—as well as Sally Hawkins, Michael Shannon and Octavia Spencer—but it also won four Oscars for Guillermo del Torro, including Best Picture and Best Director. Streaming on Hulu.
The Revenant (2015) stars a bear and Leonardo DiCaprio going through some stuff in the wild. It’s not the most fun you’ve had with a movie, but it is an experience like no other. It netted directed Alejandro Iñárritu an Oscar for Best Directing and scored two others as well. Streaming on Hulu.
Babel (2006) is another Iñárritu production, and personally is my favorite of his works. It deftly interweaves three stories—one in Lebanon, one in Mexico and Southern California and one in Japan—into a tapestry of human existence. It garnered Best Directing and Best Picture nominations when it came out. Streaming on Netflix.
Benjamin Reeves is an award-winning screenwriter, journalist and media consultant based in Brooklyn, New York. Follow him on Twitter @bpreeves or write to him at breeves.writer@gmail.com.