By Rebecca Guy Hamilton
The world is in the midst of a global pandemic as I am typing away on my keyboard and, most recently, a revolution demanding change and an end to the systemic racism that is rampant towards members of the black community in this country. We are living in extraordinary, uncertain, and, frankly, stressful times. Normally I am always moving and shaking, but for a period of time during quarantine, I found myself struggling just to get my work done, keep myself informed, and exercise, without the ability to do much more. These essential life activities zapped what is usually a bountiful amount of energy. In fact, it took a lot of time and patience with myself to compose this piece of writing meaningfully and with the right mindset. One thing I've learned is that the constant brain fog I've been feeling the last few weeks/months is triggered by the "fight or flight response" in our body's autonomic nervous system. During times of acute stress, this defense mechanism is helpful in allowing our body to focus and direct all of its resources towards an immediate threat, i.e., preparing to run or fight. But we are all currently under a chronic state of stress and some level of anxiety and fear, whether it be from our own health, the health of our family and/or friends, the ability to fulfill basic human needs, our finances, the state of the economy, the fight for change, or the future of the world and life as we know it. Am I wandering down the path of doom and dread? No. But I think it's important to acknowledge what we are all going through and the place from which these words come. A foggy brain that knows what we are experiencing right now is not normal and is primarily focused on what's important as opposed to the obscure.
While the pandemic has completely upended some of my normal routines, the one thing that I have kept constant and that has helped me maintain balance between my brain, body, and mind is continuing to ride, run, and just move in general. Cycling, running, hiking, skiing, and dabbling in some other sports are closely tied to my sense of confidence and are deeply rooted in my self-esteem and self-worth. They empower me as a female, help me overcome previous traumas and heartache, and are paramount to my mental health/self-care practices, as they teach me to love myself. They have also been severely out of balance at times.
Since I was 19, I have struggled with anxiety, depression, and disordered eating habits. This may come as a surprise or maybe even a shock to most of my friends and family, as it's something I have generally been very private about. Athletics and focusing on sports and endurance sports, in particular, over the past few years, has helped and continues to help me overcome some of these mental health hurdles, especially as it relates to my disordered relationship with food. For many years I used to see food and weight as a way to assert control over seemingly uncontrollable situations. One calorie in equals one calorie needed to be worked off; hours at the gym, restricting, overeating, a repetitive cycle. Was I thin? Sure. Was I happy? Sometimes. Did my fixation on food and weight affect my mood, relationships, and general well-being, and did it thrive in secrecy? 100%. Ironically, what has helped me change my mindset and has allowed me to view food as fuel rather than just calories and a mechanism of control, is pursuing various athletic endeavors and setting goals for myself. Through experience, I've learned that to go farther and longer, I need the nutrients and appropriate amount of fuel to be healthy and strong. This new found love and respect for myself and my body has given me an immense appreciation for how far I can go and a love for how strong I have become. I can be grateful for the places my body has taken and can take me, and feel proud about using it for good and to help others. Though unlearning learned behaviors takes time, and I continue to work on healing and balance every day, my journey is not a linear one, and there have been many peaks and valleys along the way. I have learned not to be ashamed of my journey and my struggles and not to let them define who I am. I continue to learn and grow from these experiences, and I feel proud of who I've become; unapologetically, uniquely me.
Fitz Roy, Patagonia, Argentina
While I refer to myself as a "doer of lots, expert at none," dabbling in lots of different types of movement, it has been running, in particular, that has taught me that I'm capable of much more than I give myself credit for. It has brought me out of my comfort zone and allowed me to harness my anxious energy, using it as fuel to push farther and push forward. As a kid and through high school, I played fairly competitive softball year-round and ran track in the offseason where I'd always been a decent sprinter: running the 300 yard/meter dash, 4x200, mile relay, and the 50 yard dash. Until 2015, I'd never run more than six miles at a time and decided to give a half marathon a try. For me, it was an intimidating idea, mainly because I didn't want to fail or do poorly (self-critic coming out). I loved it and have done a number of half marathons, both road and trail, since then.
What's been on my bucket list as I've become more confident in my running abilities is to try my hand at a marathon. Once again, my inner critic came out with, "I can't do this, I've never run more than 14 miles before." But with the encouragement of my friends and family and learning to trust that I'm capable of doing anything I set my mind to, I trained hard and diligently for the Marine Corps Marathon (MCM) in October of last year and the Vermont City Marathon (VCM) in May of this year. Even though I was unable to run the MCM due to an injury sustained a few weeks prior while backpacking the Tour du Mont Blanc and unable to do VCM due to COVID, I still felt a sense of accomplishment seeing just what I'm capable of after having completed the 22 mile training runs in my plan. I am a competitive person by nature, more so with myself than with other people. I am also my own worst critic (another learned behavior). But with running and working to become a long distance runner, I have been able to continue to grow, improve, and learn while also working to be gentler with myself and believe in myself. It excites me to see how my relationship with this relatively new endeavor will evolve, where it will take me in the future, and what other personal milestones I can achieve through it.
“Thinking about all the places I've been and have yet to go to, I feel an immense amount of gratitude and privilege to be able to write about my experiences and travels.”
I've achieved a lot of self-discovery and independence through running, hiking, cycling, and other outdoor activities, all of which have helped shape who I am. My love of movement, mixed with my love of adventure, has also brought me to some really amazing places around the world, either via my own two feet or two wheels. It has brought me closer to nature and the outdoors, where I feel most grounded. I have met some really amazing people, have made new friends and formed lasting memories with old friends, have seen some truly breathtaking landscapes, backpacked through magnificent peaks, and learned a lot about myself along the road less traveled. I've been fortunate enough to hike through Chilean and Argentinian Patagonia, Iceland, the Greek Islands, Iguazu National Park, parts of southern New Zealand, backcountry wilderness in Wyoming, some of the U.S. National Parks and National Forests, Scotland, Nicaragua, Puerto Rico, the Dominican Republic, throughout New England, and I have five peaks left to complete the Appalachian Mountain Club's 48 4,000 footers in the White Mountain National Forest. Last year, I backpacked and camped the Tour du Mont Blanc through the French, Swiss, and Italian Alps, and in 2010, I reached the summit of Kilimanjaro via the Shira and Lemosho routes (with my mom!). I have biked in and around the Fijian highlands, Amsterdam, Maui, New England, and Colorado. I've skied in Utah, Colorado, British Columbia, and a good chunk of the East Coast. I've had the ability to travel throughout most of Europe, parts of the South Island of New Zealand, Australia, the United Kingdom, Argentina, Chile, around the U.S. (still so much to see!), Tanzania, Mexico, and Costa Rica. Fulfilling my thirst for adventure, exploration, and discovery coupled with movement has also played a large role in my mental health and is what brings me the most joy in life, aside from spending time with loved ones. There are about 85 places/pursuits on my ever-growing wish/dream/travel/adventure list (yes, I'm a list person) that I hope to visit or complete in my lifetime. Thinking about all the places I've been and have yet to go to, I feel an immense amount of gratitude and privilege to be able to write about my experiences and travels. As I reminisce and relive so many of these incredible adventures that I've been fortunate to experience, I feel excited and optimistic about what's to come.
Mount Marcy summit, Adirondacks High Peaks region
I've learned to accept that most experiences in life aren't really linear or easy or cut and dry, and you have to put in the hard work to lead to lasting change in yourself and the world around you. Grief isn't linear, healing isn't linear, relationships aren't linear. They ebb and flow. Some hours, days, weeks, months, years feel like you're paddling upstream, or struggling to reach the summit. Other times it feels like you're flying down a big hill, barely pedaling. This mentality has helped me accept the good for being really freaking good and that even in the hard times, we must remember, "this too shall pass." We all have our own shit and struggles, and we're sometimes going to take a step forward and two steps back. But you know what? That's making progress, my friends, and by doing so, you're growing as a person and creating your own journey and story on the long and winding road to truly being alive and human.
About the Author
Rebecca Guy Hamilton is an outdoor, travel, and adventure enthusiast living in the Boston area. When she's not at Dana Farber working as an oncology nurse, she can be found riding her bike all around Massachusetts, running road and trail, bee bopping around the White Mountains, skiing, or planning her next international trip. Lover of good coffee, ice cream, furry friends, trucker hats, and laughter. She usually has a PB&J sandwich on hand for whatever adventure may pop up.
