A month ago, I injured my knee. I’ve never been one to act my age so I didn’t think I needed to start now. I still don’t, but this knee is a bit of a problem.

I’m fairly fit and regularly hike long distances.  I love running on the trails too. So logically (I’m rolling my eyes at myself now) I thought that a road marathon might be a good idea for my next challenge and I started training. It turns out that road running, and trail running are not the same thing. Long story short, I developed patellofemoral pain. It’s not that serious, but bad enough that I needed to rest my knee. I tried to treat it myself, but in the meantime, something more annoying than knee pain also started to creep in– an unsettling feeling that I can only describe as feeling ‘not quite myself.’

Many people can relate to that, I’m sure. It’s a vague feeling that you’re just ‘going through the motions’… smiling at the right times, saying the right things, performing well in your job but feeling a little off the whole time. I felt like I wasn’t connecting with the people around me like I usually do. Nothing was really giving me a lot of joy when it did before.

I’m in a very productive phase of my life right now. Working at a hospital, pursuing a Ph.D., and a book publishing deal – the things I do demand my utmost focus for long stretches of time. I’m generally happy with how I’m wired. There is some evidence that introverts may have an advantage here. But sensitive introverts who are surrounded by people all day, need to let their nervous systems rest. I’m a vessel of chemicals, electrical circuits, and a bunch of other things that need exercise and nature to work properly.

So, this past weekend I decided to leave my laptop at home, and I set off on a road trip.

I’d figured out that my knee could handle climbing and descending but wasn’t too happy on flat terrain.  So, I searched for some mountains that were not too far away. Four hours of driving later, I realized that I hadn’t put the radio on at all and had driven happily in silence the whole way. I had arrived at Girraween National Park in Queensland, home to the grade four Pyramid track and known for its curious rock formations.

I could feel the smile on my face already. The day was spectacular for a hike. A cool breeze, blue sky, and a firm decision to avoid doing any productive ‘work’ made for a very good start. My knee faded into the background with fresh medical tape in place, and a view of the Pyramid in the distance.

This walk is very organized, with well-laid paths, signage, and loads of tourists. Given my thirst for solitude, I timed my hike to avoid other hikers when I could. When I got to the base of the final ascent, I waited for a while to let a few big groups get through the sheer slope of the rock before me. A lot of people were shimmying up and down on their bottoms or crawling with their hands on the ground. It made me appreciate my own fearlessness in these situations. I love scrambling and suspect that in a previous life, I might have been a mountain goat.

The view from the top was amazing and I took a few touristy photos, ‘holding up’ the Balancing Rock, a real feature of that hike. Being on my own, I was in my element. I love observing others interacting, and enjoying themselves. I could feel my cup of happiness refilling.

That night I stayed in the nearby town of Stanthorpe. I enjoyed a quiet wander along the river watching the sun go down. The solitude allowed me to appreciate the details; the pebbles on the path, the breeze on my skin, and the sounds of the many birds in the sky above me. It was so peaceful and I was truly at ease in my own skin.

Since my knee had handled the short hike so well, I decided I’d plan another hike the following day. I randomly picked one that had a lot of elevation and didn’t seem too hard… even though it said ‘hard.’ Hmm, I may have ‘selective reading’ at times.

After a 110km drive in a north-easterly direction towards Moogerah, the bitumen road gave way to gravel. The road narrowed and got quite bumpy. I wondered if this was a good idea in my Camry, but I kept going, because… that’s what I do. There were several cars already in the little car park that signified the beginning of the Mount Greville Loop. This was good, since it showed me that it was a ‘real’ walk and that I wasn’t the only one who thought that it might be a good idea to do it. While hiking solo is my great joy, I’m not immune to the fact that there are risks with this preference. I had my snake bandage, phone, portable charger, and plenty of water. Perhaps not a lot of preparation compared to others, but enough for what I’d planned. I do admit that part of my joy comes from a little sense of danger. If I don’t scare myself a little… am I really alive?

I hadn’t researched this hike at all. I truly thought it would be a nice meandering walk that went steadily uphill around the massive, sheer-cliffed, rocky mountain I had admired on my way there. Boy was I in for a surprise.

Ascending from the car park, I paused to admire the spectacular views behind me. Rolling hills dotted with grazing cows and goats, as far as the eye could see. Finding the path as I gained altitude, was challenging in the aftermath of a recent fire. The undergrowth was completely scorched in places. It was only because others had scuffed up sections of ground that I could see it. I did have the AllTrails track downloaded – but had considered myself a little paranoid to have done that. But I wasn’t paranoid at all … I was SMART. If anyone else does this track – especially alone – download the track. It helped me enormously as I lost the trail many times.

The trail led me gradually uphill until it dipped down to cross over a little creek. There were sheer cliffs to my left and right but the path led straight ahead. Nowhere else to go, I followed and was delighted to realize that I was soon inside a huge gorge between two sheer cliffs that narrowed the further I went. What a treat! The path (was it even a path?) kept heading steeply uphill through the gorge. I had to improvise a lot, navigating huge boulders, trees, and deep cracks in the ground.

I smiled like a drunken fool the entire time. I felt like I had entered some new wonderland. I was on a proper adventure and my heart soared. It was such fun. Often, I was forced to find little handholds in the rockface and pull myself up. Twice, I had the thought that perhaps I wouldn’t be able to continue any further, since the boulders were too high for me and there was nothing to hold onto … but each time, I figured it out. My confidence grew with each obstacle I overcame.

On that walk, I crossed paths with four other couples (all in their 20s) who all looked like they were having fun as well. Having already undergone a mental ‘reset’ by then, I was keen to chat and enjoy the experience with them, before wishing them well as they continued in the opposite direction.

The steep rocky ledges gave way to vegetation, dirt, and smaller rocks. Once out of the gorge, it was very difficult to find the path at times, especially when trees had fallen over it or the ‘path’ became an expanse of flat rock. To my surprise, I didn’t worry because I knew that my track record at re-finding trails so far, was 100%. I also had plenty of water and daylight left.

For the first time in weeks, I wasn’t overthinking. I was present and in tune with my body and my surroundings. As always happens, once I hit that flow state, I let my mind travel where it wanted to go. It gets to have free reign in nature. It really needs it, given how disciplined I am with it otherwise. Yes, it sounds like I think of my mind as a separate thing to me, and that is true in a way. My truth is that my ‘thoughts’ are not ‘me’.  It took me a long time to understand that I can’t always trust my own thoughts, even when I am ‘perfectly sane’ (whatever that is). Over the past year of doing a lot of solo hiking, I have trained my mind to be kind to myself. Nature has become my therapy. I listen to my thoughts, and when I catch myself thinking words I wouldn’t say to a friend, I acknowledge those thoughts and replace them with something kinder. This process has done me a world of good. I am so much happier for it.

When I reached the end of the path, I looked around to see that there was nothing higher than me. I was honestly surprised that I was, in fact, on the summit. I had never thought for a moment it was even possible to climb that last section since it looked like vertical cliffs from below. I hadn’t known that I was so high up. To be honest, I was a bit annoyed at myself because I knew I shouldn’t have gone that far with my sore knee. I really need to get better at map reading.

The downhill path found another gorge to negotiate but this one wasn’t as arduous as the one I’d climbed. It felt like just minutes later I was back at my car.  That was three and a half hours, very well spent.

Now back home, I do not feel like the same person who set off on a weekend adventure just four days ago. I’ve been limping since I got back. But right now, I don’t care. I’m feeling so relaxed and at ease. I’m back to connecting genuinely with others, and my resting happy face is back in place.  How can a hike (okay, two hikes) lift my spirits and clear my mind like that?

Well, funnily enough, I do know why, and so do lots of fellow hikers and researchers. Here’s a list of just a few of the reasons:

1. Connecting with nature has been shown to have a calming effect, especially when your ‘normal’ life is busy and stressful.
2. It can be an opportunity to practice mindfulness. When you are concentrating on keeping to a trail, or not tripping over in rough terrain, your mind is forced to be present – in the moment. Even the rhythmic act of walking can be meditative.
3. Solitude – if this is your thing – can be the balm to an overthinking mind.
4. Physical exercise, especially if you get your heart rate up a little, releases happy hormones (endorphins) which can lift your mood immensely. That combined with the sense of achievement, may leave you grinning from ear to ear.

This is my favourite photo of the weekend. Crazy hair, red face, squinting into the sun, genuinely smiling, and feeling on top of the world.

Getting out into nature this weekend, reset my mind, body, and soul. I knew it would. I’m so lucky that this strategy works for me, and I hope it does for you too. Nature didn’t fix my knee, unfortunately. 

I’ve relented and booked an appointment with a physio, recognizing that I’d better look after this body of mine so I can keep recalibrating as often as I need to. This time, I might even do what I’m told.

Hiking for me, is my happy medicine and I need it to live my best life.