How a Prison Marathon Changes Lives

CHRISTIANE AMANPOUR, CHIEF INTERNATIONAL ANCHOR: Next, we turn to the chance for some in the beleaguered U.S. prison system to be defined by more than just their crimes. A new documentary, “26.2 to Life,” is going behind the barbed wire to capture the infamous is San Quentin prison’s running club. The California penitentiary holds an annual marathon with participants completing 105 laps around the crowded yard. And the director, Christine Yoo, as well as a member of 1,000 Mile Club talked with Hari Sreenivasan.

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HARI SREENIVASAN, INTERNATIONAL CORRESPONDENT: Christiane, thanks. Christine Yoo and Markelle “the Gazelle” Taylor, thank you both for joining us. Christine, let me start with you. What gave you the idea to profile runners inside San Quentin in the first place?

CHRISTINE YOO, DIRECTOR, “26.2 TO LIFE”: More than 20 years ago, I — my relationship with the prison system started then. I had a friend who was also fellow Korean American who was wrongfully convicted in the Sof California and he was sentenced to 271 years in prison. Knowing that basically he would be spending the rest of his living days in the prison, it really, of course, impacted me deeply. And I started to wonder, you know, what does life actually look like? You know, how do you actually create a life in prison?

SREENIVASAN: Yes.

YOO: So, when I happened upon this magazine article about the marathon at San Quentin, I — it immediately, for whatever reason, captured my imagination. I’m not a marathoner, but I do know that running can create a sense of freedom. It certainly does that for me. It solves my problems when I do that.

SREENIVASAN: Yes.

YOO: So, I thought it was like the perfect opportunity to — you know, of course, a marathon being a metaphor for life in prison.

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UNIDENTIFIED MALE: All right. Everybody that’s running start lining up.

UNIDENTIFIED MALE: It’s game time.

UNIDENTIFIED MALE: Three, two, one. Go.

UNIDENTIFIED MALE: Thirteen record.

UNIDENTIFIED MALE: Go get them.

UNIDENTIFIED MALE: It’s a community now. And if you can’t live in a community in here, you can’t live in a community out there.

UNIDENTIFIED MALE: Why should they let me out? Because I’ve changed.

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SREENIVASAN: Tell me a little bit about just the conditions of shooting a story inside San Quentin. I mean, it’s a big undertaking for even a prison system to agree to this.

YOO: Yes. And I’m — you know, I’m an independent filmmaker. And that is exactly right. Who do you call? You know, prison is not the kind of place that you can leave a voicemail and they’re going to call you back. So, you know, when we decided to embark upon this journey, it did take about nine months just to really figure out who to — you know, the matrix of the bureaucracy, so to speak. We finally did speak with the right person and they did grant us that permission. But I will say this, that every time we shot in there, there was no guarantee that we were going to get another time to shoot. So, time was always very limited. And over time, I mean, it took several years to do this. We — you know, it was matter of gaining trust and them knowing that I was really here to explore life inside and the human experience. It wasn’t necessarily like a critique on the prison system. You know, that’s for people to decide on their own after they (INAUDIBLE).

SREENIVASAN: Yes. So, Markelle, we should let our audience know, you are – – have been recently released after serving 18 years. And I want to ask, what made you want to run? I mean, how did you find on you about this 1,000 Mile Club? As it’s no secret in the film, you’re kind of the fastest guy in there. What made you want to do this?

MARKELLE TAYLOR, SUBJECT, “26.2 TO LIFE”: A friend of mine who committed suicide, who I was very close to, and the guy I’m not going to put his name out there, but he had done like 20 something years and this was like his fourth or fifth board hearing and he got denied and he hung himself. So, the following year, it was my turn to do the same thing, go to the board and present my case so I can try to get out. You know, I was like, man, I don’t want to be like that. I don’t want to feel like that. And there’s already stresses and anxieties and fears inside already. So, hopefully, I have a better shot. But if not, I don’t want to end up like that just in case I get denied. So, that’s how I started running. Running opened everything up completely. And I was able to see a lot better and more clearer. I was a little bit more focused. So, that allowed me to have that mental freeness before even getting released from prison.

SREENIVASAN: When you’re running, even though you’re taking turn after turn after turn inside the prison complex wall, you’re surrounded by prisoners who are walking across the path, so to speak, not necessarily thinking about the fact that you’re on your workout, what’s going through your mind?

TAYLOR: First of all, I’d like to say that I got the idea of my purpose of running from “Forest Gump,” the movie “Forest Gump.” And the purpose — he ran for a purpose. So, that was my thing. I wasn’t envision I was outside. I envisioning that I was carrying everybody, including the people I victimized in my lifetime, people who are struggling and suffering from their own mental imprisonment, people who are struggling with cancer or diabetes or whatever they’re struggling with and suffering with, I’m there for them to represent them and to run for them. Even people who have been victimized in their lifetime and my own personal victims and people that I harmed and hurt, everybody I’m carrying along with me and I’m running for them.

SREENIVASAN: So, Christine, tell me about the difference that you had of how you perceived prison life to be — even the nonrunning portions versus maybe what these members of the club, these characters that you are profiling were describing to you?

YOO: I had certain perceptions of what prison and people in prison were like. False impressions, really. And as I got to know people, moving through those spaces, I realized that, you know, they’re no different than any of us out here, you know, the popular media, of course, true crime doesn’t do us any favors in describing what these human beings are actually like. People are more than their crimes. They are three-dimensional people with goals and dreams and families. But what I was really interested in the story of the 1,000 Mile Club is in the face of what seems like overwhelming systemic problems. This is a story of hope. This is a story of transformation. And really, Coach Frank Ruona, he took his passion for long-distance running, created community around that, that has had a ripple effect, you know, beyond the walls of the prison.

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FRANK RUONA, COACH: Typically, I don’t question any of the inmates about their crime. It really doesn’t matter much to me what they’ve done in the past. What matters to me is what are they doing now and what are they going to do in the future.

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SREENIVASAN: Christine, Markelle is just one of the characters that you profile. Let’s talk a little bit about some of the other ones. Let’s start with Tommy Wickerd.

YOO: Yes. Tommy Wickerd, former NAZI white supremist gang member who has – – you know, over the years, he was a serial criminal. But, you know, being an Asian American female, I can definitely attest to the fact that those days are behind him. You know, and further, the data does show that as people become older, they do age out of crime. But I was very interested in profiling Tommy because he — his story really shows the struggles of navigating being a father and husband from prison. And I’m very grateful to his family for opening up their lives to us so that we can get a peek into what those struggles really are.

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TOMMY WICKERD, PRISONER: She’s like, marry me. I was like, marrying? I’m probably never coming home.

UNIDENTIFIED MALE: I can understand the law are the laws, but I have the right to be mad at my dad. No one is going to take that from me. I know he’s feeling sorry. But tell me then, until I share my feeling, why can’t (INAUDIBLE) share his? To his son.

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SREENIVASAN: So, Markelle, you know, I can see somebody watching this and saying, why are all these kinds of programs inside prison? They were supposed to be there to be punished. Why should prisoners have access to things like this?

TAYLOR: Because I think that’s a smart way to do that, because if not, it would be either against each other or towards the correctional officers or both. I mean, it’s already a very dangerous environment. So, we have to be able to have some to be able to get guys focused on other things instead of on each other. So, to do that, you got to have these programs that help people to understand where they come from, why they acted out the way they acted out, and what can get them to that place where they can be a decent human being again, you know, and find themselves and find their authentic selves to be able to be the peaceful, productive, helpful human being that they always was meant to be. So, without these programs and without this running community and without this running club, I think society, outside and inside of prison, would be a very dangerous environment.

YOO: I’ll add to that for a second, because the data shows that 90 percent of the people who are in prison do eventually find their way out. So, you know, it’s actually a matter of public safety that we want to have programs in prison so that people won’t recidivize (ph). Four of the members that have gotten out, there is a zero percent recidivism rate, which, you know, compared to the national average I think in the U.S. after five years, like 67 percent. So, obviously, the running program and a lot of these programs are — you know, it’s doing something right. It’s a step in the right direction. And it is a matter of national public safety that we do engage in rehabilitation programs.

SREENIVASAN: What do you think are the structural obstacles from implementing a program like this elsewhere?

YOO: I think it really has to do with the culture of how we incarcerate people. You know, there’s obviously the culture of over policing and the relationships between the administration and the population. And for that reason, that is why we are on a mission to go to different prisons, to screen the film, to have a platform — that will create a platform for discussions, to meet with the administrations. So, we are — have received a lot of invitations. For example, like the State of North Dakota, they let us know that the overwhelming majority of people who are locked up in that state are there due to drug related offenses. So, the idea of, you know, replacing and addictive high with maybe a so-called runners high is what they’re interested in.

SREENIVASAN: Yes.

YOO: You know, we’re not saying that running is going to solve the mass incarceration problem in this country. OK. We don’t want oversimplify it. But what I do know is when I did talk with lot of the guys, they will say when they can complete five miles, you know, suddenly, they have this new confidence. They can then, oh, I can complete my GED. Oh, I can — you know, now I can deal with reconnecting with my family members. So, it does set off a chain reaction of like positive behaviors.

SREENIVASAN: Markelle, I know you served 18 years for second degree murder. If it wasn’t for these programs, if it wasn’t for the 1,000 Mile Club, if I just put you in prison, didn’t give you any of these programs, I don’t know how many more years you would have had but — and if you had come back out, what would be Markelle Taylor then versus the Markelle Taylor that we’re seeing today?

TAYLOR: My life the way I was living it. I was so mentally sick and distraught that I over and over and over again continued to punish myself. Especially for the crime that I over and over and over again continued to punish myself, especially for the crime that I committed. So, I could never forgive my own self because of my addiction to alcoholism, because I was masking my original pain and the things I was going through my life, I was very sad and unhappy and I was just making one bad decision after one bad decision because what I was — that’s the way I was living my life, you know. I think without these programs and without the running club, I probably would still be in prison and I probably would have died by now, I probably wouldn’t have made it.

YOO: To be paroled in the State of California, one must prove transformation and have evidence of transformation. So, if you don’t have a pathway to prove transformation, such as getting an education, such as completing a marathon, such as — you know, any of these health help groups, it’s not going to happen. But at the same time, for a lot of people, there are more opportunities that people have in prison than they ever had before on the streets. You know, if they had those opportunities when they were kids, you know, would they have landed there? That’s the question. You know, I can tell you that most of the people that I talked with in prison just, anecdotally, you learn very quickly that all of the things that create success for people in life, access to education, some kind of financial means, some kind of mentorship or family structure. Most people in prison just don’t have that. Obviously, people did something to land themselves there. But, you know, we as a society too are responsible for that. You know, would people be there if they did have access to education? If family structures were not broken because of multigenerational incarceration? That is also a big question. Hopefully, people can look at the film and, you know, these walls will turn into windows. And people can take a look — a better look at life inside and what that really entails.

SREENIVASAN: So, Markelle, a couple things. I mean, now that there are so many other people in prisons that might be seeing this film, what do you want them to take away from it?

TAYLOR: What I want is them to believe in themselves and to know that even if they’re not accepted that they are not the worst thing they ever done. And that as long as they can strive towards a reality that they know that can fit them, like — and I’m going to give you an example with running. As long as I know that I can maintain a seven-minute mile pace and train towards that and complete that, that’s more realistic than I can even achieve even higher goals if I put my mind to it and just never give up and just always believe that you are not your worst crime, I am not my life crime, and I am a wonderful beautiful human being is what I would hope they take out of that.

SREENIVASAN: And, Markelle, also, look, I am an amateur runner compared to how you have not only qualified but finished the Boston Marathon. Can you tell me what it’s like for you or what it was like for you to finish that race?

TAYLOR: The experience, my life run in Boston, having an opportunity to do that was a very a humbling appreciative situation for me to where I felt like a total sense of freedom and just really, really truly grateful to have the opportunities.

SREENIVASAN: What was it like when you crossed the finish line? I mean, what went through your head?

YOO: I made it out of prison. That’s all I could think about, is I made it out of prison. I didn’t even — it — things was just so fast for me at that time, because it was just not even two months out of prison, it was like a month and some change when I got out. And it was like, man, and I’m crossing a finish line in Boston and was like — it was so like, I couldn’t even really understand it. It was just — I just was just thinking about just I survived, what I went through in prison and got out and had a second chance in life.

SREENIVASAN: The film is called “26.2 to Life.” Filmmaker Christine Yoo and 1,000 Mile Club member alumni and marathoner Markelle Taylor, thank you both for joining us.

TAYLOR: Thank you.

YOO: Thank you. This was a real honor.