My name is Amanda, I’m 29, and I live in Boulder, Colorado. If you’ve ever spent time here, you probably know that outdoor activities are basically a personality trait for a lot of people.
Everyone hikes.
Everyone climbs.
Everyone owns at least three different kinds of water bottles designed for mountain trails.
When I moved here two years ago for work, I quickly became friends with a group of coworkers who are incredibly nice but also extremely enthusiastic about the outdoors.
Every weekend they plan something intense.
Sunrise hikes.
Trail runs.
Rock climbing.
Backpacking trips that apparently involve waking up at 4 a.m. “to beat the crowds.”
For a while, I tried to keep up.
But here’s the truth I finally admitted out loud last month:
I hate hiking.
Not in a dramatic way. I just don’t enjoy walking uphill for hours while pretending the view is worth the burning in my legs.
Usually when my friends invite me, I come up with excuses.
“Busy this weekend.”
“Already have plans.”
“Maybe next time.”
Eventually they started noticing the pattern.
So one night while we were out getting dinner, someone asked me directly, “Why don’t you ever come hiking with us anymore?”
I figured honesty was easier than inventing another excuse.
So I said, “Honestly? I just don’t really like hiking.”
The table went completely silent.
One friend blinked and said, “You… don’t like hiking?”
Another asked, “Like… at all?”
I shrugged and said something like, “I mean, I’d rather do literally anything else.”
Apparently that answer triggered what can only be described as a group intervention.
Over the next week they started sending me articles about “how hiking improves mental health” and “why nature is essential for happiness.”
Then they announced their solution.
They planned what they called a “healing nature retreat.”
The idea, according to them, was that I must have had “bad hiking experiences” and just needed the right introduction to fall in love with it again.
The itinerary they sent me included:
Sunrise meditation on a mountain trail.
A 10-mile hike through Rocky Mountain terrain.
A “gratitude journaling session” at the summit.
I read the schedule and asked if the retreat included any part where we sit indoors with snacks.
Apparently that was not the point.
They genuinely believe that once I experience the “correct hiking energy,” I’ll finally understand why they love it so much.
Meanwhile I’m just sitting here wondering how admitting I dislike walking uphill turned into a personal wilderness therapy program.
At this point I’m considering two options:
Option one: attend the retreat and suffer through ten miles of mountain bonding.
Option two: fake a sudden ankle injury and recommend we all try indoor brunch therapy instead.
Honestly, brunch sounds like the healthier activity.