When Dakota Johnson first stumbled into the Hardrock 100 as a teenager, he wasn’t looking for medals. He was looking for movement, challenge, and a community to belong to. More than a decade later, he’s become one of trail running’s most thoughtful voices: a competitor who bikes to races, questions the sport’s carbon footprint, and openly grapples with the contradictions of making a living from running while advocating for climate action. In this conversation, Jones talks about the feelings that still drive him, the failures that shaped him, and the ongoing search for a way of living  (and running) that does no harm.

Background Magazine: You got into trail running as a teenager volunteering at Hardrock. How has your relationship with running evolved from your early 20s to now? Are you still chasing the same feelings, or has the goal quietly changed?

Dakota Jones: I consciously seek much the same feelings that I had when I first discovered trail running at the Hardrock 100 in 2008. I was lonely and young and so full of energy to explore and learn and travel, and the trail community gave me everything I was looking for. Specifically, trail running was an immediate way to explore the world under my own power, challenge myself physically and emotionally, and - most important - it gave me a community with whom I could do these things. The mechanism of what made me give my life to trail running was the running and the movement and the travel, but the real power of the experience came from the people who made the effort make sense. Simply using energy without context makes no sense, it has no power. But to have friends to share these challenges with and a community to compare yourself to (not just to compare your times, but to compare your reasons, your motivations, your passion) - that gives the pursuit depth that justifies the energy and the time. I’ve had the chance to travel a lot and compete in many different contexts, but Hardrock (and particularly that experience I had as a teenager, although the race has admirably continued its approach to community) still stands as my guiding light for the way I approach the sport.

Background Magazine: You’ve made conscious choices to limit your impact (biking to races, questioning the carbon cost of global competition). Do you ever feel at odds with the sport’s growing commercialism?

Dakota Jones: My whole life is a contradiction of the values that I espouse about environmentalism. I have indeed been outspoken about climate action, and I have gained attention for some non-conventional trips I did to reduce my carbon impact. But those trips were always far from perfect. It proved impossible to remove myself from dependence on fossil fuels, and that has prompted a much bigger analysis of our world in general. If even privileged, principled, and motivated people like myself cannot escape a life that damages the world around me, then what kind of choices are we being given? The reality is that we live in an economy that requires constant exponential growth, and the continued pursuit of that growth churns up resources and energy on an increasing basis every year. This is an impossible situation on a planet with finite resources. My “job” as a trail runner is spectacularly unnecessary and it uses a lot of energy to do it. So I do feel at odds with the sport’s growing commercialism, but I want to keep this in perspective: I was only ever able to do this sport because of a great deal of socioeconomic privilege, but even so it meant something to me that the sport had (has?) a culture of minimalism and humility and respect. As more people enter the sport, there are more opportunities for companies to make money off those people, and this capitalistic incentive tends to cheapen and devalue the experiences we all have. Then again, I have made a living as a runner specifically because I have endorsed products and urged people to buy things, and I have simultaneously made a reputation by being a climate activist and urging people not to buy things or travel. I struggle with these questions every day.

Background Magazine: Many athletes build their identity on performance. How do you keep yourself grounded when you're not on a podium, or not even racing?

Dakota Jones: I have see-sawed back and forth in my commitment to racing. I’ve had success in the past (long ago) and it was never as fulfilling or meaningful as I expected it to be. My response was to double down and try to have even more success, because maybe if one victory was hollow, ten would not be? That led to overtraining and injury and all manner of self-doubt. It led to a re-evaluation of my sense of purpose and identity, and I developed ways of giving back to the community. To that end, I have tried to create events and a running culture that gives to other people the same sense of inspiration and belonging that I was given at Hardrock in 2008. I struggle with many things, including a sense that I’ve wasted a great deal of potential in my life. But I have accomplished some things outside of competition that gives purpose and value to the place I hold within the sport. I’m grateful for these opportunities. But…I probably can’t honestly say I’m particularly “grounded”. I definitely have not figured life out.

Background Magazine: What’s something you’ve learned about the land, whether in Montana, the Alps, or your hometown that’s shaped your values in a way nothing else could?

Dakota Jones: You can always have too much of a good thing. We couldn’t survive on this planet without greenhouse gases, yet too many of them in the atmosphere are now causing catastrophic climate change. Running is great, but too much running will injure you and cause burnout. You need to eat vegetables, but eat too many and you’ll shit your pants. What we need in order to live lives of value is to develop and understand a concept of “enough”. What kind of limitations do we set for ourselves that give value to our work and let that work continue to give us value in return?

Background Magazine: Is there a story about failure that still lingers with you, but in a way that helped you grow?

Dakota Jones: One of my problems is that I try to do too many things all at once, with the usual result that I do a poor job at everything. It comes from a good place: I’m excited about opportunities and loath to pass any of them up. But it’s really embarrassing to make promises to people and then follow through on those promises in a half-assed way, simply because I did not give myself the time or resources to succeed. When I was living in Montana I volunteered on the search and rescue team. I was already an EMT and I got to do a lot of cool trainings with the team, specifically on high-angle rope rescue. I also got to attend a few real rescues. But for the most part I was not able to participate in rescues or even develop much of a sense of community with the team because I was simultaneously attending engineering school, trying to train for ultras, and starting a nonprofit. I had a great opportunity to get to know some really cool people and learn a lot from them about the community where I lives, but I overbooked myself and simply did not follow through. In a way I let them down, and I feel bad about that. Nowadays I try to limit what I agree to in order to ensure I can provide the kind of quality of work that I can be proud of.

Background Magazine: You’ve spent over a decade moving through the world on foot. What’s one thing you're still searching for when you run?

Dakota Jones: I have been given many things as a runner. I get to have a strong body and the time and energy and resources to move through some of the most amazing places under my own power. I can stop when I’m tired, and keep going when I’m inspired. I run alone most of the time, and that helps me make sense of the times when I’m not alone, to reflect on the work I do for the world and the people in it. What I’m searching for is a way to live that does not cause harm to the world. How can I make sure that the generations after me will be able to have these incredible opportunities that I’ve had? How could I ensure that other people who don’t have my privileges now are able to do what I do (if they want)? These are hard questions, and the answers come inevitably with painful compromises. It is true that even my running (and the travel and lifestyle that accompanies it) can damage the world. But I refuse to subscribe to the logic that people are bad by nature. I think we have been given a flawed and selfish world that rewards egotists and the most aggressive members of society. A better version of the world would be one that reduces inequality while valuing difference, one that spreads wealth and resources more evenly without sterilizing the magnificent diversity that makes humans so fascinating. Running is a shared interest that brings people together and helps us feel like the best version of ourselves. If we are to achieve this more equal world, we have to be able to communicate and trust each other. So running - like any shared interest - can be a means to achieve that, even if on a small scale. I’m still looking for ways to do that. I don’t think I’m in danger of accomplishing this task anytime soon.