A VOICE FOR CHANGE

Recently, while scrolling mindlessly through Instagram I came across a post by a woman attempting an FKT (fastest known time). After describing the challenges of her adventures, she explained that aside from finishing the trail, the secondary goal of this FKT attempt was raising money for The Cairn Project and the Summit Scholarship Foundation (part of the Alliance for Gender Equity in Outdoor Adventure (GEA Alliance)), as a Trailblazer.

Interest piqued, I followed the link to the Cairn Project webpage and was struck by their mission—championing gender equity in the outdoors by amplifying women’s stories. If you are like me, feeling the tightening grip on girls’ and women’s autonomy, the loosening of our protections and safety and the tenuousness of our self-regard, you probably understand the desire to take action to contain the floodwaters trying to drown out our voices. The Cairn Project seemed like the perfect opportunity for me to step up.

A BODY’S REBELLION

I discovered the wonders of the outdoors around 2017. In an attempt to craft a life I loved instead of waiting around for things to fall into place, I began paddle boarding, kayaking and eventually hiking and trail running. Never one to win races, a middle-of-the-packer at best, adventuring in the outdoors led me to new best friends and injected a joy into my life that I had always been missing. I also began to appreciate more aspects of my body, something that has always been challenging for me.

Growing up in the 90s and early 2000s, my body always felt “not enough”. It never met the expectations I had for it. Truthfully, I have always blamed my body for many of the challenges I have faced throughout my life but adventuring in the outdoors gave me a new lens through which to view it. There is nothing like crossing the entire Grand Canyon on foot or training for a hilly 50k with friends to make you start appreciating your body, and into early 2020 I was feeling so much more hopeful about my life.

Hope, though, was hardly everlasting and in the Summer of 2020, following a major stress fracture that put the brakes on running and hiking for months, an unexpected illness officially ripped the trail out from underneath my proverbial feet.

The last five years have been the hardest ones of my life. It is probably only because of a small group of people who never left my side and a sometimes annoying inner voice that insists the path through this will be worth it, that I am here writing today.

THE MESSY MIDDLE

The archetype of the hero’s journey is familiar to all of us, especially in books and movies. Who doesn’t love a story of triumph? I know I do, but you won’t find that story here. At least not yet.

My illness disrupted my life in every way imaginable, but in looking back, it was probably an inevitability. By the time I got really sick, my mind, body and spirit were in crisis mode. While scouring the medical system for answers, my unrelenting symptoms began to shine a spotlight on struggles I had been dealing with for most of my life. As my physical symptoms tried to bury me, my lifelong struggles handed them the shovel.

It feels wild to confess to a lifetime of quiet inner torture to strangers on the internet, especially when I have spent 30+ years doing everything in my power to make sure almost no one knew, but I promised myself vulnerability when I sat down to type these words. Despite a lifetime of feeling alone in these struggles, I think I’d be safe to assume many other women are walking their own lonely paths, never able to see, beyond the heavy shroud of their exhausted efforts, the other women walking beside them.

Reading the stories of women who have triumphed over their enemies, internal and beyond, undoubtedly fuels the fire of those trying to follow in her footsteps. But what about those women who are standing still, spear in hand, resolved to slay the dragon but unsure of where the strength to do so will come from?

We may ask ourselves, what is there to learn from someone who hasn’t solved the puzzle yet? Hasn’t summited the mountain or thrown the boogeyman off her back? What is there to learn from the woman who hasn’t yet succeeded?

More than you can imagine, because for those of us still in it, hope billows up from the efforts of others refusing to give up, even if the pace forward is nearly imperceptible. And while we should still look to people who have successfully traversed life’s biggest challenges for inspiration and hope, let’s start lifting up those who are still fighting their way through, because it is in that part of the fight where we need community the most.

Today I am still in the messy middle, moving forward and feeling the push of momentum in the right direction but still facing quite a few hurdles. The timing of my discovery of the Cairn Project couldn’t have been better as I look ahead at what it will take to go the distance on this journey of healing and self-discovery.

Sharing my story and the personal project I am planning as a Trailblazer is my way of stepping out of the shadows I’ve lived in my entire life and hoping other women and girls will hear what I have experienced and feel less alone.

MEET ME ON THE MOUNTAIN

Through this project I hope to exemplify why safe and equitable access to the outdoors is so important for those who identify as women and girls as we get outside and explore the limits of our bodies and minds.

To be honest, I don’t know what this new body is capable of. I am much healthier than I was for the first 3-4 years of my illness but I don’t yet feel like my old self. I have stayed minimally active these last few years and I know I can get stronger but doubt and fear of disappointment and a lifelong tendency to compare myself wistfully to others has prevented me from exploring my new limits for quite some time.

My discovery of the Trailblazer program breathed life into an idea I have had for a while—hiking (and maybe eventually running) every mile of trail in South Mountain Park and Preserve in Phoenix, AZ, my most favorite local park and the backdrop to many great memories and more recently, some painful ones. South Mountain is where I saw glimpses of the woman I want to be and where I look to unearth the reflections of the woman I hope to be soon.

If you have been looking for a window into yourself, turn your attention outside.

▶ Favorite book to understand yourself: No Bad Parts by Richard C. Schwartz, PhD

▶ Best books on mind-body symptoms: Crushing Doubt by Dr. Dan Ratner and Mind Your Body by Nicole Sachs, LCSW

▶ Best book on somatic healing: The Secret Language of the Body by Jennifer Mann & Karden Rabin

▶ Favorite follow on Instagram: @iamjennmann