I consider myself so lucky to have known Emilie.
I will never forget her racing at the North American Team Challenge in Chula Vista, during which the Canadian, Mexican and U.S. men and women all competed on the course at the same time: The men in a pack ahead, the women in a pack behind, and somewhere between was Emilie, running not so much as if to win the women's race, but as if she fully intended to chase down the men. The look on her face was both ferocious and joyous. I've never seen anything quite like it.
Reading these posts, it is astonishing and sadly beautiful to see the impression she made on so many. My family, too, was touched by her generosity and caring. She always asked how my running was going, which always made me laugh. "I'm just a slow mom," I would say. "It doesn't matter." "Don't laugh," she would reply. "It doesn't matter how fast you run. It's that you love it." We jogged together one day before her race, and talked of running but also of so much more -- of wilderness and wolves, of literature and life. To say she was one of a kind is such a cliche, and yet anyone who ever met her knows it is true.
Condolences to her family and those closest to her from our family. Emilie, you are so missed.