Some Ethereal Philo-Psycho-babble on Why Running in the Woods is Good
Trails wind their ways across this globe; their existence, an invitation to explore. While they come in all varieties, my favorites are unassuming ribbons of dirt and rock cut across the landscape. Trails are supremely generous, leading us but never directing us, challenging us, humbling us and offering their gifts: Adventure, wisdom, grace and ultimately a chance for greater self knowledge, a space for deep exploration, and the opportunity for profound human connection.
As a seeker, I orient in the world as one attached to finding meaning and purpose in life and in my actions, but I’m not all that attached to finding answers out in the mountains. I’ve spent enough time in the woods, on trails and in mountains, to be humbled, and inspired by what I’ve seen. I’ve made the trek up the South Ridge of Clouds Rest in Yosemite. I’ve climbed those grueling switchbacks and been immediately confronted by one half of a giant 2,694’ granite dome. I’ve looked across the High Sierra and imagined giant ice fields extending across the Sierra Nevada. These glaciers sculpted every peak on the horizon over multiple periods of the past 2–3 million years. It’s moments like this I consider that maybe, just maybe, I’m not the most important thing in existence.
Still, it’s true that going for a run helps my mood. There is something about that 4 mile climb from the South Mowich River that comes at mile 30 out of 34 on day one of the Wonderland Trail. More often than not I’m racing the last vestiges of light, curious if my eyes will adjust to the dimming light, just enough to differentiate between shadow and stone, root or route. Sure it’s easy to “embrace the moment” in the mountains, but it’s the practice of running, the early winter mornings training that make this moment in this place possible. Do I have to go into the mountains to find this place? Can I find it on every run, or maybe in every moment? This ability to inhabit each moment with acceptance regardless of conditions, elevation, and difficulty must be a transferable skill. It is at least until my kids leave for school leaving milk and cereal all over the table and floor.. and it’s now time for a 2nd morning run.
I experience the world anthropomorphically. Making sense of it any other way would be impossible. However, that doesn’t preclude the value of making efforts to study/envision other ways of experiencing the world.For one prolonged meditative moment after diving nude into Egg Lake deep in the Goat Rocks Wilderness, I sit dripping on the edge of what was an ancient cinder cone. Across the water, I watch a herd of 15 or so cloudy white goats scrambling across the opposite embankment. For a brief moment I’m one of them. I channel their dance across the skree as I make my descent from the mountain. I am the mountain goat. I am the mountain. I am tripping on a root. Ooof.
One true gift of being a totally unqualified mountain mystic is the opportunity to share the trails with the folks who are qualified. Just by showing up, and putting in the work, and being out there, inevitably one encounters folks who are actually doing “the thing.” Last summer leaving Stehekin and we crossed paths with a family of three backpacking north on the Pacific Crest Trail. Jogging by, I couldn’t help but give the kiddo a fist bump and a congratulatory “way to go little hiker.” Come to find out this “kiddo” i.e. Little Foot, was just about to set the record for the youngest person to walk the entire 2,650 miles from Mexico to Canada. She turned 5 somewhere in California. I’m perpetually astounded how the trails form a web of connections and conversations that shape some of our truly humbling encounters with human capacity, and our deepest and most honest friendships.
Maybe expecting dramatic transformations, in my week to week, month to month, or even year to year running/life practice isn’t exactly reasonable. Maybe I just need a slight re-frame? Does running bring me joy? Is this a healthy and rewarding activity that deepens my appreciation and openness to a grander and fuller sense of wonder towards myself, others, and the world?
So where does this all end, what does it all mean? If running were the path to enlightenment then would there be less of it on Strava? Maybe I’m asking the wrong questions. Maybe when staring into the starry expanse of the Milky Way, composed of some 100 thousand million stars, while soaking in a hot spring after a 30 mile day, in the High Sierra, I could simply be.
If you have hung on this long, you already know the answer and are already part of the squad. Looking forward to sharing a trail together.
Abram Dickerson
Abram has been planning and executing wilderness adventures for over two decades. Running, climbing, and skiing are expressions of his desire to live a life defined by passion and challenge. He has over 15 years of guiding experience, a love of good food, and a deep respect for the mountains. As a husband, a father, educator, and urban homesteader he lives his life with intention and simplicity. He loves trails and the friendships that result from the suffering and satisfaction of running on them.