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I was an odd kid in middle and high school. Not only me dress strange I was also incredibly unsportsmanlike and embarrassed to play sports. I dreaded the one-mile run and got picked last in gym class, a chilling experience usually reserved for fictional sadsack characters on network television.
Even in college, I turned down all invitations to exercise. To this day, I don’t even like playing pickup volleyball in the park because I’m bad and I live in a mountain town surrounded by top athletes.
The only sports and recreation instance where I have never felt inadequate or left behind? Hiking and backpacking, the activity for the average (or below average) athlete.
I was in the middle of college when I discovered how much I love hiking. I was soon spending every weekend driving two hours north into the White Mountains of New Hampshire. The combination of physical exertion, time outdoors and the fact that it didn’t take much skill to walk up a rocky trail made me feel good. It was a world of difference from the inadequacy I had felt in all other athletic activities.
The joy of breaking through the tree line was a relief after years of backing away from the ball while my teammates watched, or wincing when my parents assured me it was okay for me to swim against during my swim meet the railway line had burst. There was no on-track crowd, no technical skills to master, no teammates to disappoint, and I could go as fast or as slow as I wanted. All the pressure was relieved and I was able to enjoy exercise outdoors.
I’ve always felt that exercise and fitness are two different things. I’ve never been athletic, but I can get fit for things like backpacking and hiking—activities that require little complex coordination and no teammates. There’s obviously an overlap between being athletic and being fit, but natural athletic ability isn’t necessary to succeed or enjoy something like backpacking over mountains.
(Photo: skynesher/E+ via Getty)
Hiking was the first time I felt like I was on an equal footing with other people in any type of physical activity. I didn’t hesitate to accept an invitation and it was also the first time I organized activities without fear of inadequacy or reluctance.
Hiking had a basic basic level of skill and a low barrier to entry for gear and clothing. I was carrying my school backpack and the old Nalgene, and I had running shoes and enough layers to safely hike spring, summer, and fall.
Everyone hiked at their own pace, and I realized I could have fun doing an activity with others. I saw my fitness improve and with more time spent outside other parts of my life improved as well. I made friends with people who had similar outdoor interests, and my confidence grew as I learned.
As my experience grew, so did my desire to discover more. I found a wider network of hiking friends – a big part of the reason I moved out west after college. Backpacking was a natural next step and the trajectory was similar.
Even when you begin to travel or hike extensively, distance and complexity naturally increase. There’s no complicated new skills to learn, the gear stays essentially the same, and it’s a simple activity that you can fine-tune depending on where you live, the time, and the effort you want to put into the trip.
When I tell people my story, sometimes they back down; I discussed this topic with another publication a few years ago, and they argued that it was offensive to suggest that backpacking was great for “underperforming athletes.” I do not agree with you. To say that an activity is accessible to participants regardless of their athletic ability is not demeaning, I think it’s empowering.
I’m still struggling with feeling inadequate and I don’t know if I’ll ever rise above it. I have a decent baseline fitness level, but I’m nowhere near athletic. My friends are skilled on skis and bikes, and my boyfriend is even a backcountry ski guide. In contrast, I’ve been feeling awkward and clumsy on a recent mountain bike trip, and I’m a total goof on skis. But there’s one thing I’m good at, and that’s running.
As winter drags on here in Montana (don’t remind me it hasn’t actually even started yet), I’m thinking about summer hikes and backpacking where I don’t have to put my feet in ski boots and slide sideways down the mountain, or dread invitations where I know I will hold up the group or get into an area I cannot navigate.
I look forward to the familiarity of strapping on my pack and knowing exactly what layers to pack and what gear I need for my sleep system. Most importantly, I know that the physical abilities required for my hike or backpacking trip are minimal, and that my fitness level, not other people’s expectations, determines how fast and how far I walk. It’s a liberating feeling. For an average (or below average) athlete who loves being outdoors, there’s nothing better.
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