I don't live in an outdoor mecca
a narrative about finding passion where you are
Ode to the grass fields
I don’t live in an outdoor mecca
with cascading waterfalls
enchanted forests covered in moss
or blood red canyons that mesmerize the eyes
But I have the grass fields
and for now that will do
I wrote this short poem out of spite a year and a half ago.
I was tired of seeing the stunning picturesque images on Instagram of hiking influencers exploring the most beautiful places on earth every weekend while I was stuck in the flatlands of Missouri.
It’s easy for the resentment to build. After seeing tons of hikers each season doing awesome things, from summiting Mt. Whitney to completing an Appalachian Trail thru-hike to seeing the Maroon Bells in Colorado, I get a little bitter about hitting up the same trails near home time and time again.
“When is it my turn?” I asked the universe, eyebrows furled and pores dripping with contempt.
Well, three months ago, I finally made some moves to get out of state and see the things I’ve always dreamed of.
With a friend, I drove out west in pursuit of adventure. For three weeks, we visited several National Parks like Zion and Arches. I slept at the bottom of the Grand Canyon and then hiked back up the next morning. We hung out in Moab, Utah and drove to overlooks all over Canyonlands. Outside of Flagstaff, Arizona, I almost got to the top of Humphreys Peak. I even did a short run on the Continental Divide Trail.
I didn’t do everything that I wanted, but the trip satisfied the hiking itch and I returned to Missouri feeling relatively content. Now, I’m back in the grind of work and the challenges of fitting in trail time around a busy schedule have set in. After seeing more and more people on social media doing really cool outdoorsy things this summer, I’m reminding myself of these things to stay sane:
It’s not possible for most people to always be hiking, camping, backpacking, thru-hiking, trail running, etc. While seeking adventure is a great way to find joy, the lifestyle is not sustainable for everyone.
Life is messy. Everyone has to navigate work, school, health issues, or any number of obligations. But that doesn’t mean outdoorsy hobbies are just thrown out the window. There is beauty in fitting in pockets of time for YOU.
Time for hiking and backpacking adventures will come again. Trust the process. Stay hungry for more. Be patient and focused. Write down the dreams and think about them until they become a reality.
I know these trails like the back of my hand. Week after week, I return to the same dirt paths where they cradle my feet with every step. With the longing to be somewhere, anywhere else, there is beauty in the land we come to hold so intimately throughout the years. There is adventure to be found in the familiar.
Sure, the Grand Canyon was amazing. Zion was full of wonder and stunning sunsets that had me dazzled. The burning rust colored rocks of Capitol Reef haunt my daydreams. The Appalachian Mountains that I call home will always have my heart, no matter where I am regionally.
While many leave the grasslands and river country of Missouri in search of grandeur outside of the Midwest, I carry her mundaneness with both disdain and pride. Some days, I loathe that I made the decision to move here. Other days, I graciously traverse these hills and feel just so charmed by their capacity to see me for who I am. For now, I can hold both of these contradicting feelings and still choose to move through the wilderness with love.
I ran through the forest and it was magic
The past couple of weeks or so, my runs and experiences outside have been flat-out horrible. With the first set of summer heat advisories in motion and humidity percentages that would make anyone cry tears of sweat, let’s just say that anyone training for a race or trail-related goal that takes place in the fall is not okay. Because I have a hard time getting my runs done in the early mornings anyway, literally every excursion outside has been deeply unsatisfying.
But today we finally had a break from the hot weather and the clouds decided to grace St. Louis with a nice, cool rain shower. This was perfect for me because I had a long run scheduled. After last Sunday’s run had me gasping for air as I slowly jogged 14-minute miles through 90-degree temperatures, I desperately needed a run that wasn’t all suck. With a chillier day ahead, I drove to the trailhead with my windows rolled down (my air conditioner is not working well) and was greeted with a crisp atmosphere that for once didn’t feel like the surface of the sun.
It was one of those runs where everything clicked. I was in one of my favorite hiking areas that also happened to share the same trails as the half-marathon course that I signed up for as well. Today, I was testing the waters to see how it felt to be on the route I will race on in September. With the colder, rainy conditions, I was feeling good and extra motivated to have a fun time. The run started with a long downhill descent first, which really fired up my legs and got me pumped for the inclines that would come later.
It was pure magic. Water droplets were shooting from the sky, the birds were calling out to the world, and the air I breathed in was laced with a clarity I didn’t know that I needed. I flew, my feet shuffling over rocks and roots along the path. Branches with bright green, saturated leaves caressed my cheeks as I passed by, utterly star-struck and panting with a smile. The rest of the world melted away and it was just me among the trees.
Okay. It wasn’t like being in the mountains with alpine lakes and snow-capped peaks. It wasn’t a dense canyon with a thousand different shades of red. There were no rushing waterfalls, yellow aspen trees, or views of a saguaro-filled desert. But these woods felt my beating heart in the bones of their wood. The sparkling ferns kiss my ankles, the sky shows me her wonderful blues, and the wind dries my mud-caked legs.
I feel alive here. And that’s what matters.
Thanks for reading!
See you out on the trail!