Jessie Rose Strength

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Will Hike For Ice Cream

As a tiny human, my family had to bribe me with ice cream to complete even the simplest of hikes. I was an active child, but something about hiking just didn’t do it for me. My real love and appreciation of hiking didn’t blossom until I reached a phase when I was in great need of healing and gentle movement after several concussions and quitting soccer. Luckily, even though I complained 90% of the time, the childhood adventures I took with my family taught me the value of nature and activity in nature. 

Something sank in, and I’m sure glad it did. 

Concussions are scary. An unhealthy brain is an incredibly inhospitable environment to spend time in. It’s foggy, dizzy, and feels overwhelmingly “dumb”. Spending time on a trail feels like clearing particles of brain fog step-by-step. From one hike to the next feeling one step stronger. Able to go even a tenth of a mile further without feeling like your head or your lungs might pop. Each hike restores not only bits of physical strength, but mental and emotional strength in relearning that the body is still capable. Maybe it is the literal embodiment of climbing out of the depressive canyon that often accompanies head injuries. Knowing that even if it is not the activity of choice, new challenges can be met and achieved. 

Hiking is meditative, but in a way that it feels safe to have big feelings. It is not a quiet meditation on a cushion, it is stomping and sweating and thundering through your hardest feelings. And on a lucky day, the graceful whisper of your nimble feet flying over riverbed rocks. 

Hiking can be solo or social. It can introduce you to the dude crews with the never ending group text thread. To your future ex-boyfriend, your new favorite dog, or reunite you with your most favorite friends, business mentors, and all around goofballs. It is a great activity for getting to know new friends and one that helps with grieving lost friends. It is time with friends who can make any trail feel fun. And with the ones who drag and complain the whole time (honestly, still me sometimes). 

Me on the left: Lt. Cranky Pants.

A beautiful surprise on the trail to Mt. Whitney

Hiking can be a time to be wild again. A time to howl into canyons, look for four leaf clovers, scramble over big rocks, chase lizards, get muddy, dusty and dirty. A time to step away from societal expectations, social media, and stress. It’s a chance to feel small and humbled. It’s a chance to tune your frequency with the earth’s. To feel grounded and centered.

Hiking can be over familiar territory and can lead to the greatest unknown treasures. From repeatedly hiking the backyard trails for the sense of really knowing the land you live on. The environment in which you participate. To the pockets of beauty in remote places only accessible by your own two legs and sheer will of stubbornness. 

Trails can lead to triumph. And royal ass-kickings. And both allow me to feel that much more like myself again. 

Photo by Nick Bobroff

Originally posted October 18, 2022.