An illustrated scene of a sunny day in nature. We see a running group, separated in pairs, running along a path that goes through a park. In the background there’s a peek of the city. The running pair in the foreground consists of a man and a woman. The man looks up in awe at a pair of birds flying above them. The woman enthusiastically smiles back at her running partner.

SHIDEH GHANDEHARIZADEH / NEXTGENRADIO

What is the meaning of

home?

In this project we are highlighting the experiences of people in the state of Texas.
 

Kaiya Little speaks with Rocío Villalobos about how she connects with community and provides a welcoming place for runners of color with her group, the Indigenous Movement Crew. Villalobos identifies as a Xicana and Indigenous woman and as she continues to explore her family history, she finds home in the practice of running.

When she didn’t find community in a running club, she created her own

by | Sep 6, 2024

Listen to the Story

by Kaiya Little | Next Generation Radio | Texas Newsroom | September 2024

Click here for audio transcript

Running is an ancient practice. Communities have been doing this all over the world for thousands of years.

I’m Rocío Villalobos. I am a Xicana Indigenous woman born and raised in East Austin, a trail runner and co-founder of Indigenous Movement Crew, which is a running and wellness crew that centers Indigenous people and is founded on the belief that movement is medicine.

I think being from East Austin in particular, with its long history of segregation and discrimination, I was really aware and just conscious of the differences in some of the pieces of infrastructure that we have on the east side. So things like sidewalks that are in worse conditions, fewer access to green spaces. I learned that the oil tank farm had contaminated the soil, the water, the air, led to a lot of community members becoming ill. It made me understand also part of why I didn’t enjoy being outside.

About 10 years ago, I started going for walks around Lady Bird Lake Hike and Bike Trail. And it was at a point in my life when I was struggling quite a bit with depression, I was recovering from an eating disorder and I was looking for basically ways to heal. And I just got really interested in exploring different ways of being a part of this broader running community.

And so over time, I had been thinking about creating a running group and using it as an opportunity to help people connect with running as something that was for them because I was sure that there would be other people, like me, who had maybe thought of joining a running group but were maybe overwhelmed, intimidated by the homogeneity in the groups and how white all the groups were.

And so around 2020 is when our group first started, our goal was really to create a space that could center Indigenous people. But that could also think about wellness as something that happens collectively.

Our meetups are fairly small, on the smaller end, I would say, average 10 to 15 people at the meetups. And so I think being able to connect with people individually is something that we really value. We also ask that everybody runs or walks with at least one other person. And to use that as an opportunity to connect with someone new. But then also to make sure that nobody ends up feeling like they are by themselves or left alone to fend for themselves.

I think running on trails in particular helps me to connect with myself. And with this bigger history of the role that running has played in Indigenous communities. I think for myself, it’s been a long journey as somebody whose family was detribalized. And it’s some of the history that I am still working to reconnect with family. And when I think about the role that Indigenous Movement Crew now plays within that and how we’re now a part of that history that feels really special and really beautiful to me.

I think growing up, I always felt very conflicted about what my identity was. There were labels that didn’t feel right for me. I never really have identified with the term Hispanic or Latino. And I think being here in Texas, it adds another layer of being confused. And I think of specifically the role that the US-Mexico border played in separating families, separating ancestral routes of migration for communities and the role that the construction of race also played in terms of keeping people really confused about identities.

There are a lot of other people that are in the same position as I am that are looking to reconnect that don’t really know where to start, that are looking for a community.

And I think for me, all of that goes back to this idea also that when we run, it’s not just about running for ourselves, but running for those who can’t and using that as an opportunity to meditate or to just feel grateful that I get to be alive for another day. And I get to run, I get to move my body.

Light purple beaded earrings brush the sides of Rocío Villalobos’ face. Just shy of reaching her collar bone, the dangling flower design swings forward with each move of her head before falling back into the breadth of her dark, waist-length hair. 

Crouched on the top steps leading to her baby blue townhouse, Villalobos remembers her childhood in East Austin – just miles away from where she currently sits. Back then, she said, she didn’t care much for the outdoors, and now she reflects that there wasn’t much to like about it. 

“If your only experience is an oil tank farm down the road [or] the park that is closest to you isn’t very nice, it’s going to be a lot harder to feel like you want to be spending time outside,” she said.

A woman holds up a microphone to another woman sitting on steps outside a townhouse.

Kaiya Little interviews Rocío Villalobos about the Indigenous Movement Crew running group she founded, on the steps outside her Austin townhome on Sept. 2, 2024.

LAURA RICE / NEXTGENRADIO

Villalobos grew up near a 52-acre petroleum tank farm next to the intersection of Airport Boulevard and Springdale Road. From residents’ backyards, the tanks stood out against the skyline, and contamination seeped into the soil and water, causing decades of cancer and chronic illness. 

She said she didn’t know about the history as a child, but after advocates fought to get the tanks removed, local parks remained in poor condition and cracked sidewalks marked the path to get to them. She often opted to stay indoors. 

Seeing the disparities in East Austin led Villalobos to a career with the City of Austin Equity Office and a desire to create a space to help people experience the joy and beauty of being outside.

“It’s something I’ve realized is personal,” she said. “It’s affected my life. It’s affected the lives of my family members and so many of the people that I grew up with.”

A woman with black braids shows a peace sign as she runs on a mountain trail. A person dressed in neon green runs behind her on the path of rocks and dry brown grasses.

Villalobos poses during a run at the Franklin Mountains State Park in El Paso. Villalobos is a distance and trail runner.

COURTESY OF ROCÍO VILLALOBOS

It felt like there was only one kind of body that was acceptable in some of these running spaces.

Rocío Villalobos

Stepping outside now, Villalobos said, is an opportunity to pause, catch the breeze on her skin and listen for the birds. She took up running 10 years ago while recovering from an eating disorder and a struggle with depression, and with each added mile she’s found a love for the trails. 

With that love came a desire to connect with other runners, but as a Xicana and Indigenous woman, the spaces Villalobos encountered often lacked people who look like her.

“I was sure that there would be other people like me who had maybe thought of joining a running group, but were maybe overwhelmed or intimidated by the homogeneity,” she said. “It felt like there was only one kind of body that was acceptable in some of these running spaces.”

In 2020, Villalobos created her own running group with her friend Qui’chi Patlan. Now called the Indigenous Movement Crew, the community-based running club aims to uplift Indigenous, queer and Black bodies of all different running levels. 

Once a month, the crew meets at various running and hiking spots in Austin. Members take part in talking circles, meditation and a buddy-system to ensure no one gets left behind on the trail. The Indigenous Movement Crew fundamentally differed from other groups Villalobos had encountered: She found company on her journey to reconnect with her indigeneity over the course of their runs – an ancient practice that is a global tradition around the world.

“Running on trails in particular helps me to connect with myself and with this bigger history of the role that running has played in Indigenous communities,” Villalobos said. “I have seen from so many of the people that have shown up to our meetups that there are a lot of [others] that are in the same position as I am that are looking to reconnect and don’t really know where to start.”

A map of Texas shows were some of the Native tribes lived.

A map of Texas shows where some of the Native tribes lived in the Austin area.

LAURA GONZALEZ / NEXTGENRADIO

Texas has a complex history with the documentation of its Indigenous peoples, including the Coahuilteca and Tonkawa who lived in present-day Austin. Following the creation of the border with Mexico, many records of Indigenous lineages were erased. 

“Being here in Texas, it adds another layer of being confused,” Villalobos said. “I have been working to understand a lot more in terms of my own identity, the history of the region, and continuing on this journey of trying to learn as much as I can about my own family, but also connecting with the Indigenous communities here in Texas.”

Villalobos says the central idea to the Indigenous Movement Crew is for wellness to take center stage.

“Our goal was really to create a space that could center Indigenous people, but that could also think about wellness as something that happens collectively,” Villalobos said. ”When our communities are not well, that is directly tied to our individual wellness.”

High-rise buildings in downtown Austin behind trees along Lady Bird Lake. The water is a dull blue and gray color, reflecting the clouds.

The path around Lady Bird Lake is Villalobos’ favorite place to run in Austin.

KAIYA LITTLE / NEXTGENRADIO

When her feet push against the path around Austin’s Lady Bird Lake, Villalobos is called back to the days when she first started running and found healing in the process. As she mentions the iconic spot, her mouth pulls into a smile and her eyes catch a glint. 

“When we run, it’s not just about running for ourselves, but running for those who can’t and using that as an opportunity to feel grateful that I get to be alive for another day, I get to run, I get to move my body,” she said.