The doubts were strong up until a few days before the hike.

Two years ago I finally got around to going to the RidgeWalk and Run in Wellsville, N.Y. and I fell in love with the event. I ran the 5K trail race, but that was merely one choice in a day of celebrating being active and outside. There there three trail race distances — the 5K, 10K, and a 25K. But the event also includes a number of hikes — 6 miles, 9 miles, and a pair of 2-mile walks.

I had finished the 5K two years ago and was eating my lunch in the tent at the finish line, an amazing fall party in and of itself. I was chatting with another woman about the day and she had done the 6-mile hike. But she had “only” done the hike. Wait a minute, I said to her. You did DOUBLE the distance (give or take a tenth of a mile) that I did. That’s amazing.

So in late summer as I started to get the itch to do a wider variety events and plunge into my love of trails, I decided to sign up for one of the hikes. I should test myself and do the 9-mile hike. Right?

I signed up for it, but I was nervous. There was a cutoff between 5 and 6 miles because in a group event, you need that for safety and to make sure people have food when they return. Would I be able to make it? I remember two years ago it was pretty hilly. And I’m not a fast hiker. I’m a proud member of the Sloth Hiking Team — I’ll get there when I get there. Maybe I should drop down to the 6 mile hike. But no. Ultimately I decided to challenge myself. What was the worst that could happen? I’d have to take a bus to the finish line. Big deal.

I was rewarded with a beautiful fall Sunday. The weather was cool, but not cold. It was dry. And while the clouds stuck around longer than originally predicted, the changing color of the leaves remained vibrant.

The way the RidgeWalk & Run works is that everyone checks in at Wellsville High School then hops a bus to their respective starting place. All the trails end up at the same location — in a field on a farm with a large tent, good food, beer tastings, and hayrides. As per usual, I was early, which was why I brought my journal and a book.

It was about a 15 minute bus ride to our starting point and as soon as people got off the bus THEY WERE OFF. I had never seen anything like it. Granted, this was an untimed event, but I thought we might have some pre-hike instructions. Or even just a welcome. Nope. Get moving up the hill as soon as your feet hit dirt.

Ok then.

Up hill we went, for nearly two miles. My plan was to keep a strong pace, to keep moving forward at a good clip. A little bit of competitiveness came out, but mostly it was about seeing what I would be able to do. And here’s the thing — I was able to move quickly, to push myself a little bit (maybe more than a “little bit” in areas), and still take in and enjoy the woods. I mean really take in and enjoy the woods. I smiled. A lot. The colors were beautiful. The trail was amazing. The air smelled great. I was out and moving and, while it sounds like a tagline from a fluffy 1960s movie, in love with life.

I was self-supported with my own water and snacks, but there were three or four aid stations along the route stocked with water, sports drink, apples, bananas and Fig Newtons. Everyone was friendly. Everyone was supportive. Heck, there were even BIGFOOTS on the trail. (The hubby pointed out to me that it’s actually two Bigfoots and a gorilla. Details.)

It made me think about tackling the 25K as a hiker next year. But that will take some planning and training. Nine miles on the trails was the longest I had ever done in one day. My body was a bit sore the next day (but not horribly) and I did end up with a blister (time for new boots). It wouldn’t be a successful hike if I didn’t learn a little something!

Perhaps the biggest lesson I’ve been learning through tackling these hiking events isn’t a lesson at all. Rather, it’s a return to what I love at its most basic level — being active, being outside, being connected to nature. There is something beautiful in the trail, whether I’m moving fast, slow, or somewhere in between. There’s a challenge to be sure, but more than that there is a way of BEING that makes my heart sing. And we could all use a little more of those things which make our hearts sing.