An excerpt from: “Secrets of Aging Well: GET OUTSIDE”
THE FITNESS YOU CAN’T GET IN A GYM. Be Healthier, Recharge Your Brain, Prevent Burnout, Find More Joy, and Maybe Live to be 100.
Ch. 1: EVERYTHING STARTS WITH A SINGLE STEP
“The journey of a thousand miles begins with one step.” L a o T z u
A long hike is a near-perfect analogy for life. One foot in front of the other, a series of single steps, over and over again. Some steps are uphill, some steps down, some are easy, some hard, sometimes you slip and skid, sometimes you coast downhill, occasionally you fall on your face. The truth is, no matter what comes your way, all you have to do is put one foot in front of the other, again and again, and you’ll get through it.
But before any of us can start a long hike, we need to take the first step, and that’s where this section begins — with a single step towards change. We’re going to look at how to improve the trajectory of your life, how to delay the decline, and how to live a longer, happier, healthier life. We’re going to discover that the fountain of youth isn’t in a miracle drug or good genes. You’ll find it when you make the choice to take a single step forward toward better health and fitness.
Although that step is likely to challenge you, you’re going to do it anyway. That first step will put you on a journey that will keep you mentally and physically fit, and that is truly the fountain of youth.
First Steps
Everyone, and I mean everyone, starts at the bottom — as a neophyte, a newbie, an amateur, a greenhorn, a tenderfoot, an apprentice, a beginner. Formula One race car drivers, 747 pilots, Olympic athletes, elite high-altitude mountaineers, concert pianists — all began as novices. So, there is no need to be anxious about starting something new. As you begin your path toward better health, fitness, and longevity, simply focus on the first step. Everything else follows from that first action.
The critical reason for focusing on the single first step is that there is a high probability you will succeed. It’s only one step, and you know you can do that. Instead of thinking about the immensity of the entire task before you, which can be daunting, you merely have to take that one baby step.
This works for every goal. Do you want to lose weight? Focus on losing that first pound or two. Do you want to hike a particular five-mile uphill trail? Start by walking a mile on flat ground. Those small steps add up.
No matter how big the challenge, no matter how long the trail, no matter how tough the problem, or how high the mountain, big challenges need to be looked at as a series of smaller problems. Breaking them into individual steps and smaller, manageable pieces will add up (surprise!) and, over time, can result in seriously big accomplishments.
For instance, losing one pound per week, a manageable goal, can become 50 pounds total by the end of one year — a life-changing accomplishment. Or increasing the distance you walk by 5 percent a week every week turns a one-mile walk into almost 3.5 miles by the end of six months. If you increase your walking distance by 10 percent per week (which is very possible), you’re suddenly walking 10 miles by the end of 6 months. Walking 10 miles is 20,000 steps, which is seriously good fitness. Small steps add up to big accomplishments.
Along the way, there will certainly be setbacks. Try not to worry too much about these. They are normal and to be expected. During my comeback from periods of inactivity, my first steps were fraught with setbacks. At times, my setbacks felt pretty overwhelming.
When I started feeling that way, I would go back to my single-step thinking and keep moving forward. Eventually, I learned to recognize setbacks not as the end of the line but rather as challenges to be overcome.
“You must head up into the high country of the soul, into wild and uncharted regions, and track down that elusive prey.”
-From “Wild At Heart” by John Eldredge
This is not easy to do. You’re going to encounter obstacles. You’re going to experience bad weather and setbacks. Some bumps and bruises are inevitable, as are discomfort, exhaustion, frustration, and so on.
So what? Such is life. You deal with it. You stare up at that obstacle and break it down into little pieces, one step at a time. Sleep on it. Then, you suck it up and find that pot of gold, that elusive moment, that special place. Or you never take a risk. You sit at home wondering what might have been and never experience the joy that is possible from these endeavors. Like this:
“I am 63. My neighbor and I were both talking about how we didn’t get outside enough, that we needed to get moving, that we were older and had tried the gym, so we just hiked up local Mount Monadnock. Then, we did a few more and I was hooked.”
Andrea Mcgill O’rourke
My only semi-serious hiking injury came at a time when I was just getting back into hiking after a decade of exile, so I can’t exactly say I was in the best shape. It was a simple slip, the result of inattentiveness. I was standing on the summit of Mount Washington in New Hampshire. It was pouring rain and one of the few times in my life I hadn’t hiked to the top. Yes, I took the famed Auto Road because I was with some friends who were not hikers and I wanted them to see the spectacle of the summit. So, the experienced international mountaineer (me) climbed onto a boulder to point out some mountain features when I slipped on the wet rock, landed on my elbow, dislocating it, with a hairline fracture of my forearm.
This was my first baby step back on the very mountain that had started my mountaineering career, and it resulted in a broken arm! I could have interpreted this as a sign that I was not meant to get back into hiking and climbing, that I was too old or out of shape. Instead, I wore the setback as a badge. It was a learning experience that I should not let my guard down. I wasn’t paying attention, even though I knew the rocks were wet. Basically, I wasn’t taking proper precautions. The fall was not hiking’s fault. It was my own fault, so I just needed to suck it up, keep going, and take the next step.
Tim Andrew, a retired firefighter from Connecticut, now living in the mountains of New Hampshire: “I had never hiked before, and I noticed hikers coming out of a trail at a rest stop in Vermont. I was a biker at a motorcycle rally, and asked one, ‘What are you guys doing?’ A woman answered, ‘We’re hiking the Appalachian Trail.’
Now, I’m hiking the thing myself! I left on my 65th birthday. I discovered that anyone could hike, even long distances. It’s pretty great not to watch all the negative news on TV every day.”
Tim Andrew
Moving Forward
“It does not matter how slowly you go as long as you do not stop.”
– Confucius
Once you’ve taken the first step, it’s important to keep taking steps forward and challenging yourself. The best way to do that is to gradually increase the difficulty of what you’re doing.
At each new level, you reset back to novice. A really competent walker and fitness buff who has never hiked is a novice when they take the leap to hiking. They’re learning new skills, a new mindset, and a different type of fitness. The beauty of this is that it happens over and over again at each level. An experienced hiker and trekker, making the leap to climbing, goes through the same process. Then again, if that climber goes from climbing rocks to climbing snow and ice, or if they go from the famed 14,000-foot peaks in the Rockies to the daunting 20,000-foot peaks in the Himalayas. Each progression involves a reset to zero and another series of new first steps.
Let’s go back to Mount Washington in New Hampshire. I had proven to myself in my early teens that I could climb it in the summer and winter. To accomplish this, I took numerous baby steps to prepare. I had honed my skills by hiking and camping on easier, more accessible mountains. I started out at High Rock State Park in Naugatuck, Connecticut. Then, I hiked Bear Mountain in the northwest corner of Connecticut and finally Mount Monadnock in New Hampshire.
I needed to climb other things and try other routes as I prepared for Mount Washington. Each step of the way, I increased the degree of difficulty to prepare myself for bigger challenges. Eventually, my youngest brother John and I climbed Mount Washington together via the hardest route.
We went up the Huntington Ravine trail, which is listed as the most difficult in the White Mountains. It was a great climb and easier than we expected. Once I knew I could do that route, I went back a few months later and climbed it solo. I began to realize what I could accomplish, what I could safely do, and what I needed to work on to improve. I also saw what others were doing and what was possible. After that climb, it all started to make sense — one small step after another gets you where you want to go. It’s a natural progression. Aim a little higher, push yourself a little harder, take a bit more risk, repeat as often as necessary, and you’ll make progress. Layer by layer, you add to your skills and your confidence.
It’s not a coincidence that the world opened up to me once I fully assimilated this lesson. I applied the skills I learned on the mountain to other parts of my life, especially business. I learned to be confident and not fear setbacks or failures. I learned when to take calculated risks and when to be bold and fearless. I learned to aim high. Even though at that point I had never climbed anything considered significant (or even out of New England), I had set a strong foundation. Being brave enough to take those first steps and to keep moving forward was the basis for everything else.
As more people come to know the benefits of getting outside, taking those first steps, and when ready, hiking up hills, and then mountains, they can experience this incredible life-altering, health-altering, mind-altering journey for themselves.
So many people have found the strength to get up and get outside. To experience the satisfaction of going over and through barriers that were holding them back, and into a realm of enhanced fitness and happier, healthier, longer lives.
Remember this: even if you stumble, or if your boot slips on the first step, shrug it off and keep going — more on this later.
“You keep putting one foot in front of the other, and then one day you look back and you’ve climbed a mountain.”
– Tom Hiddleston
End of Chapter 1.
