I love being outside. I spend most of my time there, walking the dog every day, finding new hikes or adventures at the weekends, camping during holidays and often looking for a new activity I want to try. I fully embrace the changing seasons and find joy in most weathers (I often use the phrase, “Once you are in it, you are in it!”).
But I haven’t always called myself “outdoorsy.” In fact, for a long time, I didn’t think I was.
When Being Outside Was Everything
When I was a kid, I was practically feral. If we weren't outside, we were desperate to be. I was lucky enough to grow up on the outskirts of a small town surrounded by families with kids around our age. Some of them I don’t even remember meeting, we’d just always been there, together and some are still in my life today. After school, weekends, holidays, we were round at each other's houses, bikes dumped in driveways as we knocked on each other's doors with the same question: “Do you want to come out and play?"
And play was everything. Bike rides into the heart of the country, paddling in burns, racing around fields and being told off by farmers, building dens, climbing trees, hide and seek in the woods - all driven by wild imaginations. A rabble of noisy, filthy kids, making everything up as they went along.
Nothing stopped us, bad weather meant puddles, snow meant sledging (it definitely snowed much more back then!), wind meant running with our coats over our heads hoping to take off, and sun meant swimming in rivers or begging to go to the beach.
However, I didn’t always run with the pack. Sometimes, I would be happiest on my own, catching beetles, or ladybugs. Making miniature gardens in old potato crates, then populating them with worms, snails and earwigs. I would draw flowers or just sit and pick seeds from a grass stem.
I didn’t need a reason to be outside. It was just where I went.
The Version of “Outdoorsy” I Didn’t Fit
Some of those same friends who I grew up with went on to pursue more "official" outdoor pursuits. They were going on skiing holidays, buying more technical bikes and visiting trails, or playing football or joining athletics clubs. As we grew older, the time we spent together outdoors was diminished.
Other than swimming and a failed football career, I wasn't very sporty. I was creative. I loved all forms of art and writing stories - more isolated activities, and more often than not, indoors. Once I had finished school, those days spent in the fields and the woods were just happy memories, and I no longer ventured to our once favourite places.
Slowly, without really noticing, I stopped seeing myself as someone who belonged outside.
I was 24 when I moved to Edinburgh. I believe there, it felt even more defined; you were either an outdoors person, or you weren’t. And I didn’t think I was. Looking back, that feels strange as I was still more often than not in the outdoors. I used to cycle to work almost daily and on the weekends, I would find Portobello beach, or go for a walk to the Pentlands or Arthurs Seat with friends. But I didn’t look like the people I thought were outdoorsy. The ones in their Rab jackets, with strong legs and proper boots. I didn’t feel like them, so I assumed I wasn’t one of them.
I was more interested in the social life and had a wonderful time working hard and enjoying life even harder. Life in the city opened up so many new experiences, and I was embracing them all - particularly the music scene, with endless gigs, festivals and new interesting friends. It was an amazing time with so many memories, however, if I am honest, I wasn't as happy as I could have been. Anxiety took over and I found myself struggling to cope. In my 30s, I made some changes, specifically, slowing down and returning to things that I loved. Drawing, writing, spending time outdoors on my bike, and yes, still the occasional gig or festival.
This was a turning point in my life, and I made some significant decisions about how I wanted to live.
Returning to Myself
When I was 40, I adopted my son. He was 5 and life thus far had treated him unkindly. Somehow, instinctively, I knew what I could offer him. Not just the all-important routine, and nurture. But space, adventure and creativity. I knew that spending time outdoors would help him rebuild his much-deserved confidence. All of a sudden I was back in the woods, digging into a semi-retired imagination. But Dan led the way, his own imagination structuring our adventures. He took to this life instantly. A natural climber, endlessly curious. Before you knew it, my friends had nicknamed him “AquaDan” because, like a younger me, if there was water, he had to be in it!
I did this for him, but I found something shifted in me too. He didn't climb those trees alone, I got up there too. Together, we searched the road less travelled to get anywhere, clambering through thickets, climbing steep braes, and sliding back down them. We would come home with dirty bums, muddy shoes and socks, drenched and exhausted. We built dens, lit bonfires at sunset and camped under the stars.
Without realising it, I had come back to myself. Anxieties I had in my 30s were no longer crippling me, my confidence, once so reliant on the perfect outfit, makeup and hair, now didn’t need so much work. My health improved, once I switched from nights in bars to evenings outdoors.
A Different Kind of Outdoor Woman
When I started working with FINDRA a couple of years ago, I was asked the question - are you an outdoorsy person? I knew the answer - I most definitely am.
And being part of the FINDRA community has only reinforced that. Because here’s the truth I’ve come to understand - there isn’t one way to be an outdoor woman.
No one cares how I look, no one cares how I am dressed or what my particular skills are. I am part of a community of women who love being outdoors. I’m not a mountain biker. I love paddleboarding, but I’m far from graceful. I’m not about to take up mountaineering anytime soon.
But I walk, I explore and I notice things. I get outside, again and again. I am an outdoor woman.
Just in my own way.
Sunday Inspiration
Favourite Podcast
Murder they Wrote by Laura Whitmore and Iain Stirling
Somedays, getting outdoors is a bit harder than others (think cold, grey, drizzly mornings) but I find a good podcast can make any dog walk much more enjoyable. I love true crime and this is a lot of fun with some really interesting cases.
Favourite Quote
Favourite Song
All My Friends - LCD Soundsystem
One of my all time favourites from a time when the tent was used exclusively for festivals. I have moved on, but my soundtrack hasn't! I still have this on repeat!
