Six things the outdoors has taught me about life

By Hazel Robertson

The outdoors is perhaps the greatest of life’s teachers. It certainly was for me. It was where I learned to fully trust myself. To have my own back. To know that whatever happened I would continue to show up and do the best I could. 

Here are six things I’ve learned from over a decade of multi-day endurance events and remote expeditions, that apply as much to everyday life as they do to time spent in wilderness.

Decisions have immense power

From the moment Luke and I committed to travel human powered from the southernmost to northernmost point of mainland Alaska, people helped us in ways we couldn’t have imagined. A salmon fisherman took us and all our gear three hours by boat to our start point - an arbitrary rock on the edge of the Pacific Ocean. People we’d never met received food packages we’d posted from Scotland that we collected on the way. No one asked why, only how they could help. Whatever you’re dreaming about, make that decision and watch its power change your life.

Focus on what you can control

When skiing solo across Hardangervidda, Europe’s largest high mountain plateau, I woke up day after day to fresh deep snow. It could’ve been easy to get frustrated. Especially when this snow was adding days onto my expedition. But there was simply nothing I could do about that. I couldn’t make it snow less. I couldn’t ski any faster. And so I focused on what I could control: my mindset. I used seemingly endless hills as a chance to practice presence. I climbed ten steps at a time, feeling a deep sense of calm. There are so many things in life outside our control. Don’t waste energy on things you can’t change. Focus instead on what you can control: how you think about the situation you’re in. 

We are capable of extraordinary things

But we hold ourselves back with fear and self doubt. The first half marathon I signed up for, I never showed up to the start line. I was terrified I wouldn’t be able to do it. And so I didn’t. It became a self-fulfilling prophecy. Our mind is the most powerful tool we own and we can use it to do extraordinary things if we truly believe we can. During the “long stage” - an 80km section of the Marathon des Sables ultramarathon across the Sahara desert - I was stumbling through the sand, exhausted and sleep deprived after running for 21 hours straight. Yet I believed so deeply I would complete it. And I always managed just another step. And another. There’s always another step if you’re willing to embrace the discomfort. 

Who you become is more important than what you do

I used to think that setting goals, like ultramarathons or expeditions, was all about achieving the goal itself. But I’ve now realised that’s not the case. It’s all about the skills you learn along the way. The discipline you practice to train and plan, day in, day out. The consistency. Your ability to continue to show up even when you don’t want to. The trust you build with yourself. Reaching the goal is just a bonus. It’s who you have to become to get there that’s important.

The more you plan, the more you can enjoy the present moment

I’ve always loved planning, but expedition planning stepped this up to a different level. Filling up hundreds of lines of spreadsheet with kit down to the number of cable ties. Poring over maps to finalise routes and camp spots. Spending hours filling up ziplock bags with the food we’d eat each day, so that when we were in camp and tired, we could quickly grab what we needed without thinking about it. The more planning I did before an expedition, the more I could be fully present when I was there. The less decisions I had to make when tired. I plan meticulously in my everyday life now, planning my weeks ahead of time, and enjoying the freedom and calm from knowing exactly what I need to be doing.

We need very little to be happy

For any expedition, everything that comes with me needs to serve a purpose, perhaps multiple purposes. A buff doubles up as an eye mask. A spare layer becomes a pillow. My pulk, a seat. Nalgenes - the perfect hot water bottles. The simplicity of life on expedition soaks into my bones and fills me with happiness. There’s both a lightness and a groundedness with having only what you need: food, water, shelter. I’ve brought this simplicity I thrive on in remote places back into my everyday life. I own less and everything I do own is useful. Just like when I’m packing for an expedition, I’m so careful about what I buy. The same question comes up - “what do I really need?” and “what can I let go of?” 

This article was originally published in the Royal Scottish Geographical Society's "Geographer" magazine.