In recovery, addicts find that time spent in addiction was all-consuming, so with more room in our lives for a healthy lifestyle, it’s important to find new coping strategies and build healthier relationships. For some, reconnecting with old hobbies can revolutionize how we spend time in our lives in recovery.

For those who struggle with the spiritual aspects of twelve-step recovery, a connection to the outdoors is inspirational to the part of us that finds awe and wonder in the sheer strength of nature.

From the towering mountain tops to the serene brooks, nature reminds us that the world is much bigger than our life problems. When we place ourselves in the vastness of the outdoors, it’s inevitable that we find in some way respite from the noise of modern living.

Sometimes great personal breakthroughs come through embracing some discomfort and braving the elements. I model this practice in a few ways when I am on top of my self-care routines.

Ice baths and cold exposure mean literally sitting in discomfort where your reactionary senses scream “get out of here.” Simply breathing and centering myself means I can apply these practices to those moments where we need to just breathe and accept that this too shall pass.

Trail running teaches me about my perceived and actual capabilities and limits; I learn to dig deep when my mind just wants to give in, whether it’s a dark, cold winter’s night or a blistering marathon over hills and valleys. The discipline it takes to train for races means just getting out regardless of what sort of day I’m having. I often feel like I’m spent at the end of a race or long run, but sure as anything, this voice inside my head says, “when’s the next one?”

Hiking and camping; this could be an epic expedition in snow-covered mountains or a park and pitch on the side of a hill just to get a night under the stars. For me, this is where I feel closer to God; there’s something about mountains that is inherently spiritual. I will expand on one example of where the outdoors really helped me break through some emotional barriers to a new way of thinking.

On a 4-day winter mountaineering course, I found myself having a break from life in the blizzard-covered summits of Scotland. This was time with my closest male friend and fellow outdoor addict. Despite having a great time, I was in a very stressed and triggered place both emotionally and spiritually. I was particularly overweight and battling issues with self-esteem.

As we embarked on avalanche drills, we practiced the technique of arrest drills. These entail carving out a ledge on the slab of snow and simulating a fall and slide down the side of a mountain. The word “arrest” simply means to be stopped. As we slide into a fall, the instructor yells, “arrest, arrest.” With that, you dig in your ice axe and anchor yourself to then bring your crampons down to restore a foothold. It was amazing in the moment, and later that day, I felt a creeping sadness that in my life I was unable to arrest my own fall into the oblivion of addiction with my own efforts. No matter how much I tried, I was unable to save myself time after time.

Despite having a great time with great company, I was having an internal battle. I was out of my routine, and for anyone in recovery, you know how challenging it can be to work one’s program when away. It takes strategy and support, which doesn’t come naturally to those who internalize negative emotions.

The next day would come my breakthrough; we would set off in blizzard conditions, short visibility, and conditions of less than minus 20 degrees. What was already technical terrain would be made more intense by the conditions and icy rocks that were our route to the mountain tops.

I was in a team with guides and my best friend, but despite this makeshift fellowship, I felt alone carrying my burdens with me up what seemed like a treacherous mountain.

As we pushed up to steeper elevation, the winds and plummeting temperatures meant my goggles and clothing were freezing around my face. The tunnel vision which accompanied my now escalating internalized struggle in my head was pretty intense. I knew all I had to do was put one foot in front of the other, but I felt like if I were to fall off the icy rocks, it might be some sense of justice. I mean, how could anyone love someone like me?

As we negotiated the most technical parts of the ascent, we eventually made it to the top of the ridge and with that, some easier ground underfoot. The demons I battled inside during that physical and mental adventure had taken me to the depths of self, but here at the top of this mountain, I was overwhelmed with emotions and a sense of “God is real, and I am very much loved.” I was also reminded I wouldn’t have made it up that hill alone. I felt embarrassed to be in tears in front of people. This experience and the lessons it taught me will be ones I take with me to my grave.

Not all outdoor pursuits are like this, but I share one of the most meaningful encounters I had with God in the mountains.

So let me just close with “get active and get outdoors.”