Meet Andre, Team VOA Roseville Alumni Member
"I feel ready to make this transition back into the world because I know I have a family in MiMS to come home to."
When Andre Anderson moved into VOA Roseville in August 2025, he was already a runner, having run thousands of miles while incarcerated. He also already knew the connective power of the Mile in My Shoes community. While at Lino Lakes Prison he was pen pals with Distance Crew Run Mentor Steve, was taught inside by Roseville Mentor Jen, and was given a new pair of HOKA running shoes from longtime Mentor and former MiMS program director Beth.
Joining Team VOA Roseville for his first run after 11 years of incarceration, Andre reflected on Mile in My Shoes’ role in his transition. "I haven't even seen my family yet. It's overwhelming—less than 100 hours since I left prison, and I already have new shoes, clothes, my team. It's incredible, this community: big enough to meet people, all people, and give them a seat at the table. I want to help build more of that.”
Recently, Andre shared an essay he wrote on the transformative power of running. Just one of the moving lines: “In the end, running is not a story to be told, but a journey to be traveled.” (Read the full essay below)
At the Ultra Tour de MiMS on November 15, 2025, Andre noted that he’d now been out for 100 days. While Andre’s journey will include many more experiences and milestones ahead, in just over three months he has signed up to earn his Master Degree in Public Advocacy and Leadership at Metro State University, found a job, connected with both new and old MiMS Mentors and Members, and run the City of Lakes Half Marathon, Twin Cities Marathon, and the nearly 40-mile Tour de MiMS.
For the marathon he reunited with Steve, fulfilling their shared goal to run a race together after years of writing letters and postcards back and forth. Here they are at the finish, captured brilliantly by MiMS photographer extraordinaire Carly Danek.
Thanks to the committed coverage from Carly and MPR, the pair also got a little famous through this beautiful video story chronicling Andre’s path to the marathon: Man just out of prison runs Twin Cities Marathon | MPR News
From there it was on to the nearly 40-mile Ultra Tour de MiMS, where Andre was joined by 13 other runners to complete the entire tour. Here he is, at left, at sun-up just before setting out…and triumphant at sundown at the finish:
"The joy is not in the recounting of miles, but in the memory of the landscape passing by, the changing light, and the feeling of momentum carrying you forward.”
The MiMS family is proud to run alongside Andre as the momentum carries him forward.
Looking back during a recent Zoom, Andre reflected on finding in MiMS “a community that was so vibrant, that found a way to write letters, send postcards encouraging me. I have every single one on my wall. That type of community, you don’t find anywhere. I feel like I came home…It’s been the best experience ever.”
The Great Equalizer: Running
By Andre Anderson
Resilience can be as simple as bouncing back one step at a time. The worst part of running is waiting to run. Meaning, it is something to be experienced and not written about, unless, you have already ran and want to share the joy that is distance running with those who look on and ask, why do you run? The hardest and easiest question rolled into one, the nexus of explaining the sport, but not being able to find the words to convey the grit and freedom tied together like a snug pair of new running shoes.
Perhaps the answer to "why do you run?" isn't meant to be spoken, but lived. The words fail, but the legs do not. In that silence, step after step, is the truth that cannot be written down, but is permanently etched into the memory of muscles and the unyielding spirit that carries us home. The question is not for the person who has run, but for the one who has not yet taken the first step.
And so, the greatest victory of all is not a race won or a personal record shattered, but the quiet, internal triumph over the urge to stop. The joy of distance running remains an intimate, personal joy, understood not through a spectator's gaze, but through the pounding in the ears, the burning in the lungs, and the silent, unyielding resolve to simply keep going. It is a language spoken by the body, with a vocabulary of grit and a grammar of freedom that no explanation can truly capture.
In the end, running is not a story to be told, but a journey to be traveled. The joy is not in the recounting of miles, but in the memory of the landscape passing by, the changing light, and the feeling of momentum carrying you forward. You don't write about it; you feel it. It is the unwritten novel of the soul, where the only audience that matters is the runner and the unshakeable resilience that makes every step possible.
