Tired of Turning Back? How Training Transforms Outdoor Disappointment into Triumph
They say that you don’t rise to the occasion but fall back to your level of training.
Tired of outdoor adventures falling short of expectations? Outdoor enthusiasts can avoid feeling frustration and dealing with setbacks or abandoning goals due to a lack of preparedness. This lack of preparedness manifests in various ways, such as insufficient physical fitness, inadequate skills (like navigation or first aid), and a lack of mental resilience to handle unexpected challenges. This article aims to offer a solution to the gap between expectations and reality in outdoor adventures.
I read a note the other day from @ErikHogan on Substack. It was in reply to another from @NikiElle, a backpacker who was sharing her feelings about a journey.
@ErikHogan wrote: “They say that you don’t rise to the occasion, but fall back to your level of training. There may be truth to that, but I often find that the greater the challenge, the more my spirit rises to meet it and is exhilarated by the difficulty.”
I share the same sentiment as Erik, and I replied. “I love the challenge and the feeling I get during and after the experience. I'm attracted to situations where I can experiment with pushing my comfort zone and discovering the point where I can no longer maintain a relaxed demeanor and positive (or at least neutral) attitude, no matter what's happening around me.”
I think there are limits, though. We are capable of rising to the occasion, but we also need skills development to help us maintain composure. Skills development or risk the onset of panic when we’re placed in a situation that we really don’t know what to do. These are the shit hits the fan moments.”
But this exchange got me thinking about this idea, and I couldn’t let go of it. This is the article that developed.
The original quote is “We don't rise to the level of our expectations, we fall to the level of our training,” and is often misattributed to the ancient Greek poet Archilochus. While the sentiment aligns with some of his surviving works, there's no concrete evidence he actually said or wrote it.
While the true origin of the quote remains uncertain, its message about the importance of training and preparation remains relevant and impactful. I think this idea should be applied in all areas of life, but this publication is focused on Outdoor Lifestyle pursuits. So I’ll stick to that.
This article tackles the pervasive problem of repeated outdoor disappointments experienced by enthusiasts who find their trips cut short or goals abandoned due to a lack of preparedness. It bridges the gap between aspiration and reality by illuminating the crucial role of training – not just as a prerequisite for success but as the very foundation for truly enjoying your time in nature.
The sting of retreat.
You’ve planned a challenging hike for weeks and dreamt of the panoramic view from the summit only to find yourself halfway up, lungs burning, legs screaming, forced to rest while others wait for your recovery - or worse, you need to turn back. Or maybe it’s a canoe trip cut short by a sudden squall or a camping weekend ruined by a malfunctioning tent.
The wilderness, in its untamed glory, can be a harsh teacher. We go in with expectations, fueled by Instagram-filtered fantasies, but we often collide with the reality of our limitations. "We don't rise to the level of our expectations," the saying goes, "we fall to the level of our training." And while the quote's origin may be murky, its truth resonates deeply in the heart of every adventurer.
It’s the conundrum of exploring further: They say that you don’t rise to the occasion but fall back to your level of training, but I often find that the greater the challenge, the more my spirit rises to meet it and is exhilarated by the difficulty. What this equates to is often travelling very close to my failure point and falling short of my expectations.
I remember one such moment vividly. It was a backpacking trip in the Canadian Rockies, near Whistler, B.C. I’d meticulously planned the route, studied the maps, and packed what I thought was everything I needed. But I hadn't accounted for the relentless rain. Day after day, the skies wept, turning the trails into muddy slip-n-slides and soaking my gear. My carefully chosen hiking boots, perfect in the store, became instruments of torture, rubbing blisters the size of nickels. And my knees, oh the pain in my knees, brought about from the never-ending slipping along the trail. By day three, I was miserable, demoralized, and ready to throw in the towel. I limped back to the trailhead, defeated, my grand vision of conquering the mountains reduced to a soggy, chafed reality.
That trip, though painful, was a valuable lesson. It wasn't just about physical fitness; it was about preparedness. I had underestimated the power of the elements and overestimated my own resilience. I had fallen to the level of my lack of training and I had not yet discovered the value of hiking poles for long treks and how they support the leg joints in slippery and uneven terrain. It wasn't just about having the right gear; it was about knowing how to use it, how to adapt, how to anticipate.
Transforming disappointment into triumph
So, how do we bridge the gap between expectation and reality? How do we transform outdoor disappointment into triumph? The answer, unsurprisingly, lies in training. But it’s not just about hitting the gym or running a few miles. It’s a holistic approach that encompasses physical conditioning, skills development, and mental preparation.
Outdoor aspirations are like seeds. Expectations are the dream of a blooming flower, but training is the soil, water, and sunlight that nurture it to life. Without that essential cultivation, the dream remains just a seed, never reaching its full potential.
Physical Fitness
Let's start with the physical. Hiking, backpacking, canoeing – these activities demand a certain level of fitness. But it's not just about having strong legs or good cardio. It’s about building the specific muscles and endurance required for your chosen activity.
For hikers, that means training on varied terrain, carrying a weighted pack, and focusing on core strength for balance and stability. For canoers, it's about developing upper body strength and learning proper paddling techniques to minimize fatigue and prevent injuries. For climbers, it means building grip strength, learning rope work, and understanding the physics of movement on rock.
Incorporating a progressive exercise routine into your daily life that is focused on improving muscle stability, core strength, and endurance is essential for all outdoor pursuits. It not only prepares us for the physical challenges we face out on the trail but also increases our longevity and adds years that we are able to access these activities.
Skills Development
But physical fitness is only one piece of the puzzle. Skills development is equally crucial.
Knowing how to navigate with a map and compass (or GPS), how to administer basic first aid, how to build a shelter in the wilderness, and how to create a fire are essential skills that can make the difference between a successful trip and a survival situation. It’s not just about knowing what to do; it’s about practicing it until it becomes second nature. Muscle memory, the ability to react instinctively in a crisis, is built through repetition and practice. This is what allows us to stay calm and focused when things go wrong, to make rational decisions under pressure.
Consider the case of a sudden storm while sailing. I’m a new sailor, and I can tell you that a novice sailor might panic and be unsure of what to do, potentially leading to a dangerous situation. But a trained sailor, who has practiced reefing sails, heaving-to, adjusting course, and understanding weather patterns, will react calmly and efficiently, ensuring the safety of the vessel and its crew. They have trained for this moment, and their training allows them to rise to the challenge, not succumb to fear.
$800 Backpack vs. $80 Course: Which Will Save Your Life?
Why do outdoor enthusiasts prioritize acquiring expensive gear over developing essential skills, creating a dangerous disconnect between equipment and the knowledge to use it effectively? Is it crazy, arrogance, or ignorance? (Leave a comment and let me know what you think). This overemphasis on material possessions leads to a false sense of security, leaving individuals unprepared for backcountry challenges and emergencies. The solution lies in shifting priorities from purchasing more gear to investing in skills development through courses and training in wilderness medicine, navigation, and other crucial areas. By prioritizing knowledge and experience, adventurers can transform their gear from mere objects into valuable tools, fostering safer, more fulfilling, and responsible interactions with the wilderness.
Mental resiliency
And then there’s the mental aspect. The wilderness can be a challenging and unpredictable environment. It can test our limits, both physically and mentally. Developing mental resilience, the ability to persevere in the face of adversity, is just as important as physical or technical skills. This can involve practicing mindfulness techniques, learning to manage stress, and developing a positive attitude. It’s about remaining calm and cultivating the belief that you can overcome obstacles, that you have the skills and the knowledge to handle whatever comes your way.
I recall a sailing trip, this time in the Great Lakes of Michigan and Ontario. The weather was perfect, the scenery breathtaking. I was on my own, solo-sailing and heading to a renowned anchorage - the Benjamin Islands. But as I approached the anchorage, the wind picked up to a gust, the waves were choppy, and as I lowered the mainsail, I pulled a muscle in my lower back. It wasn't a severe injury, but it was enough to slow me down considerably. I was alone and miles from the closest marina and starting to feel a flicker of panic. But then, I remembered my wilderness first aid training and other times that I had overcome physical obstacles while on an expedition. I assessed the injury and calmed myself. I slept out on the boat overnight and continued to enjoy the journey, and then I carefully made my way back to land the next day. It took longer than expected, and I was in considerable pain, but I made it. My training, both physical and mental, had allowed me to handle the situation calmly and effectively.
Training isn't just about preparing for the worst; it's about enhancing the entire outdoor experience. When you're confident in your abilities, you can relax and truly enjoy the beauty of the natural world. You're not worried about getting lost or caught in a storm because you know you have the skills to handle it. You're free to focus on the details, the subtle nuances of the landscape, the sounds of the forest, and the smell of the earth. You’re present, fully engaged, and experiencing the wilderness in its purest form.
Invest in longevity
So, if you're tired of turning back, if you're ready to transform outdoor disappointment into triumph, invest in yourself. Invest in your training. Take a wilderness first-aid course. Learn how to navigate with a map and compass. Practice tying knots and building a shelter. Strengthen your body and your mind. Because in the wilderness, as in life, we don't rise to the level of our expectations; we fall to the level of our training. With the right training, the wilderness isn't something to be feared; it's something to be embraced, explored, and enjoyed to its fullest.
Why Skills Matter in the Age of Exploration - Enter KnotSkool
The modern outdoorsman, I believe, is more than just a consumer of gear. They are a craftsman, a problem-solver, a student of the natural world. Knowing how to navigate by the stars, purify water, and build a shelter from the elements – these aren't just survival tactics; they are keys to deeper immersion, to a more profound connection with the wild.
Think of it this way. Learning to tie a proper knot isn't just about securing gear; it's about understanding friction, leverage, and the subtle interplay of forces. Building a fire isn't just about warmth; it's about understanding combustion, airflow, and the delicate dance of tinder, kindling, and fuel. These skills aren't just technical; they are a way of thinking, a framework for understanding the natural world on its own terms.
The rewards extend far beyond the practical. Mastering a wilderness skill fosters a sense of self-reliance and accomplishment. It connects us to a rich human history of ingenuity and adaptation. It deepens our appreciation for the natural world, not as a passive backdrop for our adventures but as a dynamic system with its own intricate rules and rhythms.
For the backpacking trip that I was writing about (and that Erik restacked), my first day out there, an old knee injury flared up. It was entirely my fault because 1) that knee injury was the direct result of not understanding the value of trekking poles (as you said!) years earlier. And 2) because I had rushed out to my hike without enough time to train. So the knee was too weak.
I thought i was going home then and there. But then after a few days of strategic rest and a few other tricks, I hiked out and ended the hike at a total of 900 miles.
Training would have certainly alleviated this, as you point out! And also, I can think of many times where managing my expectations during that hike (like when it rained or I was miserable or things went sideways) would have served me as well as training. Learning to accept that sometimes, plans going awry is a gift, and to not be so negative when that sort of thing happens.