Why I Hike

It's strange how one horrible moment in one's life changes a person's life for the better. In July of 2010 I suffered a completely ruptured patellar tendon. Simply put: It's the tendon that attaches the kneecap to the shin. When the tendon "snapped", my kneecap was floating around in my lower thigh and I experienced the most unbearable pain that I have ever experienced. At that time, I was what one would consider a "weekend warrior". I hadn't been conscious of my health and working out for a number of years up to that point. When I returned to school in January of 2005, I had stopped working out and focused solely on my education. So, for five years I had neglected my own personal health to further my education. A few days before my injury, I was camping and hiking in Glacier National Park in Montana...the state that I lived in from 2010 to 2011. The hike that we went on was called Hidden Lake and it was a glacier lake nestled at the base of a mountaintop. It was truly breathtaking and extremely frigid. I had gone on this trip with my fellow Project Vote Smart co-workers and our large group of interns. I can honestly say that my summer, up to the injury, was on pace for being one of the best summers of my life. Living and working in Montana wasn't the best experience that I've ever had, but so many great things came from it. If it weren't for Montana I would have never met some of my many friends that I still communicate with to this day. I also wouldn't have experienced being detached from many of the things that I had grown accustomed to while living in Seattle. The cell phone reception was nearly non-existent, the town of Philipsburg (where I lived) didn't even have a pharmacy, and the closest Starbucks was 1.5 hours away in Missoula. I spent a great deal of time thinking and learning more about myself. In a way, Montana humbled me. Albeit, nearly to a fault, but it made me who I am today. I love the outdoors. Ever since I was a little kid camping with my parents and grandparents, I loved the personal freedom that the serenity of nature provided me. Until my knee injury, I had only just begun to reconnect with that side of myself that had lie dormant for so many years. The time after my knee injury were the darkest and most loneliest days of my life. I had slipped into a world that I had never been in and that I feared would become permanent. After my knee surgery, I was unable to walk without the aid of a cane, crutch, and/or knee brace for the rest of 2010 (nearly 5 months). When I left Montana and Project Vote Smart, I returned home with a new perspective on life. I would never take anything for granted again. At the top of that list was my friends, family, and my health. Not being able to walk was the worst experience in my life. While I lie in bed at night icing my knee and keeping it elevated, I remembered the hike that I went on right before all of this took place. I remembered how much I enjoyed the hiking and how I was able to walk and hike up a mountain covered in snow/ice without having to think about a previous injury, the pain that it was giving me, and having to be careful with each step. My life forever changed after that moment and I will always have to deal with the fact that I am getting older and my younger years of being mobile and physically fit are dwindling with each passing day. I swore to never take my health for granted. In June of 2011, I weighed 240lbs, had high cholesterol, high blood pressure, and I was being closely monitored for diabetes. I had allowed myself to get to this point and I had allowed it because I was afraid. After an injury such as the one that I had, a person is always extra careful and overly cautious with everything they do. As for me, I was afraid to walk more than what was needed. When my doctor told me that he was "worried" about my health, I felt something inside of me wake up. Ever since that day, I have made it my mission to work out 3-5 times a week for 30 minutes, eat healthier, drink more water, and to hike as often as I can. Hiking can be as simple as a walk through the forest or as extreme as completing Mailbox Peak (by far the hardest thing I've done and the most physically rewarding thing I've done in years). I became dedicated to constantly be pushing myself physically when it came to hiking. Aside from the physical aspect of hiking, I've found another aspect of it: the serenity of being "one" with the forest and with nature. I leave the noisiness of my house and my neighborhood for the trickle of a creek, the chirping of the birds, the sound of wind blowing through the trees and canyons, and for the feeling I get within my soul. I feel a real connection with nature and there are many times that I stand there on a trail and close my eyes and take in the sounds and smells of the environment in which I'm in. There are many differences between hiking in the rainforest, the desert, in the rain, through the snow, etc. I've experienced all of them this past year and I can't get enough. I like the feeling of researching each hike, preparing for it, driving to the trailhead, enjoying the various views on each hike, and the feeling I get when I'm done. It gives me a sense of accomplishment and fulfills my inner-competitive ego. I find camping, hiking, and nature very relaxing and an excellent stress reliever. I enjoy being on a hike alone. I get time to think, to feel my body improving, getting opportunities to take wonderful photos, and gives me an opportunity to do something that most people never even think about. A lot of people my age have kids, go out drinking every weekend, watch TV for hours on end, play video games, etc. There's nothing wrong with any of those, but none of them encapsulate me. I'm only going to be young, healthy, and without kids for so long...I might as well do what I can to make the most of it. Hiking provides me plenty of opportunities to see breathtaking views that one doesn't get a chance to see everyday. In Washington State, there is only a 3 month window to do many of these hikes and it's important to me to do as many as I can before the weather starts to get colder and the snow levels drop. I'm thankful that my parents and grandparents raised me to enjoy the outdoors. If it weren't for my knee injury, I don't know if I would be where I am right now. I'd probably be living in Washington DC, working in politics, stressing myself out, eating poorly, etc. However, I'm living in Washington State. I'm the healthiest that I've ever been, my family is right here and we're closer than ever, I have a good job that pays me well, I have friends that I share a lot of common interests with, I have my favorite sports teams only 45 minutes away (Mariners and Seahawks), and I'm in the most beautiful state in the United States. Where else can you be within a short drive of the desert, mountains, volcanos, the ocean, another country, etc.? Sure, it rains here, but the summer months are absolutely breathtaking. I love the summer months here and I'm so happy to be back. I will return to Montana this summer and I would like to return to Glacier National Park as well. I will return with a new perspective on life. I'm a little older, a little wiser, and I'm a little more accepting of things that I have no control over. What happened to me in July of 2010 was the worst thing that I've ever had to go through and I will have to deal with it for the rest of my life. The pain in my knee each morning will serve as a constant reminder of what took place that fateful day. However, I've gained a new perspective on life. I will no longer take things for granted. I will be spontaneous and do things that I would have not done in the past. I will live my life the way that I see fit. I'm a better person because of what happened. The times from July 2010 to June 2011 were the hardest months of my life, but they humbled me. I'm thankful for what happened. We are all challenged in life and we are supposed to learn from those experiences and live a better life because of them. I can say with absolute certainty that that is exactly what I have done and what I will continue to do for the rest of my life.