‘26.2 To Life’ Review – Prison-Life Doc Will Have You Running Toward Your Greatness
Originally submitted to Geek Vibes Nation
Prison life documentaries are commonplace across streamers. However, Christine Yoo’s 26.2 to Life about the San Quentin 1,000 Mile Club is unlike anything you’ve seen before–about prisoners or any other subject. Did you know one of the most notorious prisons in the country even had a marathon club? These inmates run around the prison 105 times for the 26.2-mile race. As Yoo shows in the documentary, it’s not for health but for life.
Prison. Inmates. Life. Marathoning. And it’s spectacularly compelling.
Hard-time inmates train an entire year for the race, including Markelle “The Gazelle of San Quentin” Taylor. He is known in the national circuit following his release from The Q when he ran the 2019 New York Marathon following during his 18-year stay for second-degree murder.
The documentary begins with a character overview–Coach Franklin Ruona who has been an ultra-marathoner, assistant coaches who volunteer their time to mentor the inmates, and a few standouts among the club running the annual race in 2017.
The grim reality of life at San Quentin interrupts this novel story 20 minutes into the race as a mandatory “yard down” interrupts the marathon and the runners’ rhythm. “Something happened somewhere in the prison, here we go, we gotta’ sit–no matter where we’re at,” says a club runner and fellow inmate Tommy Lee Wickerd, who is on his second stint at the 432-acre facility on San Francisco Bay. The runners stop immediately and are forced to rest in place for five minutes. Imagine that in a typical marathon. As Yoo depicts throughout the counterclockwise turns, nothing is typical about this race, including the men running it.
The filmmaker captures several runners for aside moments, but focuses on three primary individuals–Taylor, Wickerd, and another athlete, who is also a writer for San Quentin News, Rahsaan “New York” Thomas. In his free time, Thomas is also a consultant for Amazon and a contributing writer for The Marshall Project, detailing the U.S. criminal justice system. It’s at that moment when the race veers to the shoulder and gives way to the real story.
The Starting Line of 26.2 To Life
Members of the 1000 Mile Club – Larry Ford, center – By Jonath Mathew (Copyright, San Quentin Marathon, LLC)
Yoo is not only the director, producer, and writer of this look behind the scenes. She also is a volunteer at San Quentin State. That kind of personal connection to the inmates and the facility comes across authentically. Yoo provides glimpses inside the lives of these runners as they grow behind bars and work toward bettering their lives.
When the film was being taped, she was interviewed by the San Quentin News about the documentary. The origin of 26.2 To Life is as riveting as the stories told on screen. When she first came to the prison, “she did not know what kind of film to make until she witnessed the club running the race.”
She brings a film crew to The Q with a blank slate and a heart full of ideas. And these imprisoned men racing in that yard like free people gave her the inspiration she needed. For them, and those who serve them, we are provided with this satisfying upbeat look inside some of the lives of the 1,000 Mile Club.
“It’s been an amazing journey the last five years,” Yoo said. “The idea that there could be an entire community around a prison was a whole new idea to me. I wanted to open people’s eyes. At the end of the day, it’s really all about that.”
Yoo weaves these inmates’ remarks from the yard and pre-taped personal stories, along with interviews of Coach Ruong and his team, with surgical precision. The interesting dichotomy of 26.2 To Life is while these stories of misery and movement are going on, the tears aren’t coming. An original soundtrack and blending cuts keep you attentive and alert throughout the 85-minute roll time.
And none of it has been seen before.
“Due to the nature of how prison works, the story of the 1,000 Mile Club has literally been hidden from public view, until now,” Yoo said via provided statement.
Aside from the grueling race on the prison grounds, the director humanizes the runners by showing the lives of those they love and the compassion deep in their hearts that keeps them running behind prison bars.
Crossing the Finish Line
1000 Mile Club Workout By Jonath Mathew (Copyright, San Quentin Marathon, LLC)
By the time Yoo finishes with the three main stories during the race, you realize these aren’t “runners behind bars”–only. These are men with open minds closed to the world. As they run along the hilly terrain among the general population, you forget the reality of what put them there. What inspires them now is being productive to their fellow man, those who love them, and themselves.
That’s not to say there aren’t a few soapbox moments in the documentary, specifically from Coach Ruona who has a few sobering thoughts about the U.S. penal system–but you know he’s thinking about the guys he inspires. It turns out as the documentary winds down; they inspire him just as much.
“I just feel like I am my brother’s keeper,” Ruona says with a formidable frog in his throat. “If he needs help, I’m going to help him, and those guys over there need help.”
The underlying theme of Yoo’s first feature documentary is a look at the over-capacity U.S. criminal justice system, but the diverse and deeply personal stories of Taylor, Wickerd, and Thomas overshadow the many turns of the race. Instead of a sociopolitical retread of the same beaten talking points about the justice system, Yoo shares tales of the human spirit and takes us through love and marriage, children and adults, absence and presence, life and death.
“Running in San Quentin really saved me–it changed my life forever,” said 1,000 Mile Club member Sergio Carillo, who runs a 3:51 marathon. That change is palpable. Anyone can see how this liberating run alters the lives of each person who finishes–cheers, smiles, arms raised, and heads held high.
Running for Freedom
A fitting reminder of how people find peace in anything, even running for 26 miles.
If you’re searching for a stance in this documentary, you won’t find it. Unlike most docs in this genre, the people are the story, not the system. It’s evocative in a settling fashion. This isn’t a fast-paced jaunt up the stairs of the Philadelphia Museum of Art. You feel inspired, not incited; pleased, not provoked. When Rahsaan crosses at the five-and-a-half-hour mark, he’s smiling and encouraging others.
It’s easy to forget this is filmed inside a maximum-security prison because of the runners like him. These are guys who have found peace in a war zone, and Yoo shows a captivating depiction, as Markelle says near the end of the film, “what it means to be free,” who qualified for the 123rd Boston Marathon during the marathon seen on film.
One minute we are learning about what put these men inside those walls, and the next we’re watching them running for freedom. For these inmates, Yoo shows they are doing much more than just running a race; they are taking the rest of us on a journey to their redemption.
26.2 To Life will be released in select theaters on September 22, 2023 courtesy of HOKA. The film will hold national virtual screenings September 29th – October 1st, which you can learn about here.
For more information, head to the official 26.2 to Life website.
To learn more, head to the official San Quentin 1000 Mile Club website.
