You may think it’s obvious, the difference between exerting yourself on a mountainside and exerting yourself at your place of employment. Well, to most it is. But many others I have talked to often ask, “Why would you work so hard on your time off? Why not take a break?”

Well, I do relax more than my fair share at home, just ask my wife. But on those days when I do get to head out and kick my ass on the trails, I, too, often wonder “What the hell am I doing?”

What pops into my head at that moment is this: I’m all alone, in charge of my every action. Noone can tell me what to do. I have no responsibilities, (other than getting home).  The trees, the hills, the lakes and rivers don’t give a damn what I look like, how I act, how I smell or any other damn thing about me. In return for this unconditional acceptance, I get to be myself and enjoy everything there is about the trail. Getting sweaty and dusty out there is so much more tolerable than getting all sweaty at work wearing the poorly made uniforms provided us. The burn I get out on the grade is so much more rewarding once you reach the top of the mountain, than the beep beep beep of the stair stepper in the gym announcing that you just climbed ‘X’ flights of stairs and burned ‘X’ amount of calories. The view from the treadmill is oh-so-depressing compared to looking out over a whole mountain range and systems of lakes and valleys from a peak you just conquered.

Why is it that I can set out and trek 18 miles in a day up hills, over shale boulder fields, down switchbacks, and all over the countryside, and come home feeling satisfied and refreshed, but after getting home from spending 8 hours on my ass at work, my feet are killing me, my back is screaming in pain, and I just feel generally and over-all run down? I’m not exactly sure what the physiological or psychological reasons are, but I’ll take it. I love my job. I have a blast, it’s challenging, I work with some of the best people I have ever known and quite honestly, after almost 6 years here I still don’t mind getting in my car and driving to work… but why is it sooo much nicer not being there? The view. The clothes. The air, it actually seems different inside the walls than outside. The clientèle that we deal with that just never learns, no matter how many times or the method you use to  address them. The flat, featureless concrete walls floors and ceilings. It’s just draining to the soul.

The trail, no matter how dry, wet, un-even, rocky or rooty is nourishing to the soul. There’s something about conquering the switchbacks that gives you a sense of accomplishment, even if your legs are screaming at you to give up before you even see the top. The trees absorb the blistering sun and produce a cool breeze on even the hottest summer day. There’s no greater feeling than taking off your boots and soaking your tired feet after hours on the shale.

No matter how beat down you get on the trail, the satisfaction you get after busting over that last rise and see Mt. Olympus and Blue Glacier in the distance can’t be compared to anywhere.

So, in the end, the difference between the worst day on the trail and the best day at work is all in your head. Your head wants wide open spaces.  Take care of your head.