I’m a Long-Distance Hiker With Ulcerative Colitis—Here’s How I Manage On and Off the Trail

Having a physician who didn’t imagine me could have made me query myself, but the reality is, nobody knows your body higher than you do. That’s a lesson I carry with me each time I hit the paths, and one I at all times share in my yoga classes. At first of each, I remind the group I’m guiding to honor their bodies and whatever they need that day.

Prep for the unexpected, irrespective of where you’re.

Anyone who spends time within the wilderness knows how essential it’s to be ready for any emergency. But when you’ve gotten UC, you furthermore may must be prepared just in case your symptoms start causing some chaos.

Every time I’m making camping reservations, for instance, I pick the campsite that’s closest to the restroom. Like all responsible hiker, I at all times carry a trowel with me, so I can go off-trail and dig a hole when I even have to use the lavatory mid-hike.

But with UC, I don’t at all times have enough time to try this. Enter: a WAG bag, which is largely a conveyable toilet kit. Now I bring it on all my hikes and I at all times have one in my automotive, just in case. Knowing it’s available in an emergency alleviates my anxiety a lot.

Alone time is great, but community may also be healing.

I used to do most of my hikes solo, which I loved. My husband isn’t super outdoorsy, and I’m very comfortable being alone; in my early 20s, I solo-backpacked around Australia, Recent Zealand, Fiji, and Southeast Asia.

These days, though, I’ve rejoiced mountain climbing with like-minded women I’ve connected with through Instagram. Mountaineering with friends also makes the logistics quite a bit more manageable, especially as I’m traveling to succeed in the farther, more isolated sections of the Bruce Trail. More importantly, we support one another outside of the woods too. I do know they’ll be there when I would like an empathetic ear to vent about frustrations or setbacks—and even just a few company for coffee or concert events. They’re at all times able to remind me when I would like to take a step back and reevaluate if something is price my energy.

Dial into your body to reduce stress.

Through the years, I’ve learned that stress is my biggest UC trigger, and I’ve found that yoga is a extremely good strategy to ground myself, especially after I’m not feeling well. Yoga has given me the tools to decelerate and concentrate on my respiration. When my symptoms act up, I keep my routines slow and delicate; sometimes all I do is savasana (corpse pose). I currently teach a category one to 2 times every week, along with practicing alone.

Shut off the “shoulds.”

It’s tempting to be hard on myself after I’m unable to do the things that was easy for me. During my 2021 flare-up, I used to be so sick I couldn’t hike for greater than six months. Once I returned to the paths, I did my best to maintain my expectations low and to concentrate on being grateful for the possibility to be out in nature again. Sure, I could have beat myself about how much farther or faster I “should” have been going, but how would that help?

Before I attempted to hike again, I began with short walks around my neighborhood. I desired to rebuild my stamina progressively, plus I needed to remain near home in case I needed an urgent bathroom break, and I had made peace with that.

So here’s one other reminder for anyone who resides with UC: Meet yourself where you’re. There will probably be days when you’ve gotten to scale your plans back or cancel them completely—and that’s okay. Nobody’s keeping rating. Your health has to come back before your workout. And while you’re feeling well again, your sport or hobby will still be there waiting for you. I’m reminded of this each time I hit the paths after recovering from a flare. Regardless of what form of physical shape I’m in, returning to nature appears like coming home.

Related: