Before I begin, let me warn you this is truly an inner monologue. Thoughts I had while away that have lingered with me as I slip back into routine.
Over the last three weeks, I got really good at walking. When you strip away all the daily noise and your only focus is putting one foot in front of the other, where you’re sleeping, and when your next meal is, there’s a peace that comes only from worrying about your most basic needs. People seem to always want to ask “why” or the “purpose” for doing things, but I think I finally understand my “why.” Of course there’s a sense of accomplishment and respect for my body being able to carry me hundreds of miles, but more than anything, it’s the blankness I’m finally able to have. Pure happiness, time standing still, not worrying about the world. Going out into the wilderness and escaping. Maybe it’s childish, but with everything going on these days, a little escape from reality is refreshing. Only focusing on the immediate needs of my body (food because I’m a snacky gal) and the beauty surrounding me.
I am my most authentic self when I am on a mountain (silly, happy, and a bit feral). My relationship with the outdoors is intertwined with both my physical capacity and my desire to push past it. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t take some pleasure and pride in enduring pain—don’t analyze it, it’s not that deep. Sure it’s nice to do challenging things, but the challenge isn’t what drives me, it’s the quiet and calmness I feel in these moments. Whether it’s running, skiing, or hiking, I’m able to actually relax and the constant chatter becomes nonexistent.
I don’t take my ability to travel for granted. For the first five years of my professional career I worked in a rigid industry that required I take two weeks of vacation during a specific time. That was my only time off. I developed a sort of anxiety around vacations, needing to schedule every day to maximize my time off, fearful not to waste time. Hiking trips became my escape.
Sometimes I’m hit with waves of intense gratitude that become all encompassing. I had a lot of those moments on this trip. Gratitude for the ability to see these places, gratitude for a hiking partner to share these moments and memories with. There’s also the fear of how these landscapes are changing and will continue to adapt to their new circumstances.
Life is simpler on these trails. Maybe that’s why I keep returning.