Everything was super chill. Maybe that’s because I wasn’t running. There was no self-created pressure to run a certain pace or fear of finishing last or concern about how I would look. (All issues, by the way, I’ve worked hard to move past.)

I had thought about running the 7 mile race, but wasn’t sure I was up for that distance at the moment. But while perusing the website, I noticed they had a 4-mile hike.

BOOM!

I could check out this event, which seemed to be everything I love about the trail community, and share it with Scott as part of his birthday celebration weekend. We made an overnight of it, staying in Olean where I showed him some of my old haunts, then drove to Bradford in the morning. While we had some backpacking adventures in the Allegheny National Forest in Pennsylvania, neither of us had been to Marilla Reservoir. This would be another adventure.

After procuring our packets with the coolest t-shirt I’ve seen in some time, we took a walk around the reservoir. There are tons of trails in the area and we already made mental notes to return for hiking and kayaking.

As the time for the untimed, non-competitive hike got closer, we went to the start line. There were maybe a dozen of us doing the hike. The race director said they added the hike the second year so that people who didn’t feel like running 7 or 14 miles could still participate.

Dear Race Director: Thank you. Thank you for that. Thank you for making the event accessible to a wider variety of people — people who loves trails and being active but may not be trail runners. Or may be taking a break from trail running.

And let the record show: 4 miles of a non-competitive hike did not mean an easy-peasy stroll. Granted, everyone could go their own pace, but Scott and I kept the pace with the group, which was a good, steady clip through beautiful forest and a good and muddy trail. After descending a bit, we had a steady, close to 1-mile climb up to the clearing and a service road.

The dirt and gravel road still had a bit of a climb as we turned left, going the opposite direction of the way the trail racers began. Eventually we hit the descent which was much longer than Scott and I anticipated. The distance, however, gave us a chance to take in the beautiful fall colors — the yellows and oranges and reds of the trees that painted the hills of the surrounding forest. While the weather was cool and a bit rainy, the colors popped against the gray sky. It was beautiful. And fun. A bit of a challenge. A feeling of home. There’s something about being in the woods that makes both Scott and I feel at home, something that’s difficult to describe, but feels whole and joyful and peaceful.

We finished to a great post-hike BBQ meal and local beer. We even received finisher’s medals which I wasn’t expecting. The only disappointment was the damp, drizzling conditions AFTER which made it a bit uncomfortable to hang out and poke around.

There’s something about doing a non-competitive event that can be difficult for me to get my head around. It’s an outgrowth of “goal setting” mindset, this idea that you set goals and hit, then set new goals and hit those. This mindset of a constant forward motion. Of progression. Of success. It’s a very linear way of thinking. And while I’ve bought the company line about linear thinking, it’s never been the most comfortable for me.

I like goals. Goals are good in that they give me a place to start, help me put into action the ways in which I want to be. But not all goals are measurable. And when I put too much emphasis on the meaning of what is measurable, I miss so much of the important stuff around me.

Maybe next year, I’ll do the 7 mile run. Maybe Scott and I will return for the 4-mile hike. What I’m continuing to learn is that it’s not the specifics of what I do, but that I’m there — that I’m being completely who I am.