What does it mean to be “outdoorsy”?
What does it mean to be “outdoorsy”?
When I first shared our van life plans, I got an anonymous message wondering why we wanted to live on the road. The sender didn’t perceive us as being very outdoorsy.
Sean thought it was a pretty fair question. (One could read snark into it, but I like to believe it was genuine curiosity.) Pre-Hermes we were not exactly long-distance runners, hikers, cyclists, paddlers, or other adventurers. We loved “cozy-ing up” in our own space. We didn’t seek out lots of adrenaline. Or mud. Or bugs. You get the idea.
Maybe we really didn’t—in many ways, still don’t—fit the classic outdoorsy label.
But I think “outdoorsy” can mean a lot of different things.
Like just about every other trait (in both us people and our dogs), it’s a spectrum more than a binary yes or no. Humans have innate biological responses to nature—at our core, I think we’re all outdoorsy—plus we don’t need to be all-in focused experts to still deeply enjoy and identify with different activities.
So here’s my take on what it means to be outdoorsy!
Outdoorsy: the obvious, dramatic definition
When I think of someone outdoorsy, a specific vibe of Instagram influencer often comes to mind.
People who are constantly on, or at least planning, some multi-day backcountry trip. Mountain climbers. Backpackers. Superheroes covering the entire Appalachian Trail or bagging several peaks in one day. Rugged types, you know the kind, looking gloriously alive (if perhaps a little dirty) and probably rocking some well-known brands’ apparel while they’re at it.
I do think these people are outdoorsy. They impress me very much. And from some of their perspectives, I can also understand the temptation to feel like if we pass some threshold we get to call ourselves “real” outdoorsy people. Maybe it’s a (honestly pretty natural) desire to feel superior, like we’re set apart—or maybe we just want our effort acknowledged. Someone to say yes, I see you’ve conquered so many things other people won’t, and you deserve some applause.
But I don’t think engaging in traditionally adventurous pursuits is the only way to earn a mark as someone who loves the outdoors.
Why I think every human is actually outdoorsy
Hear me out: Everyone I’ve ever met is an “outdoors person”. If not clearly on the surface, then still at their core.
Many people feel that humans have evolved “out of” nature. Certainly there’s more of a separation between us and our fellow animals, plants, and environments than in centuries past—if we want, it’s usually not hard to go entire days barely stepping outside, only walking the short distance between our homes to our cars to our offices and back again.
But we’re still animals. We still, put simply, belong to the earth.
Our circadian rhythms are greatly affected by exposure to morning and evening sunlight. We’re less stressed when we breathe in fresh air. There’s real data to back up practices like grounding and forest bathing. On and on and on.
In this sense… it’s impossible to be a living creature on our planet and not be outdoorsy. Every one of us benefits from time in nature—even if it looks different for different people, even if we have varying tolerances for specific things like being covered in mud or forcing our joints up steep slopes, even if we prefer some pursuits over others.
We don’t have to be experts to identify with something
One of my favorite sentiments (that the internet has truly helped popularize—three cheers for the www not being entirely toxic ) is that skill, or lack thereof, does not have to define our hobbies and interests.
Sure, there’s a difference between an expert in a field and an amateur. There are certain situations where acknowledging that distinction is incredibly important—take, for example, dog owners like me sharing our own personal experiences (yay!) but not pretending to be professional trainers with more expertise than we really have (that would be a boo).
But in many other contexts it doesn’t matter. Truly.
When it comes to being fulfilled by an experience, when it comes to feeling alive, when it comes to taking pride in ourselves… we don’t have to be the best of the best or the most focused of the focused or the most extreme of the extreme to claim a certain label.
I am not an outdoorsy expert. I am, I’d say, an outdoorsy amateur. But amateur isn’t a dirty word! And my joy at being in nature is just as valid as anyone else’s. (Yours is, too.)
“Outdoorsy” is a spectrum
Just like pretty much any other trait.
There’s no official cutoff between “outdoorsy” and “not outdoorsy”. No one person gets to decide where the distinction lies, which imaginary line is the ultimate truth, what test you have to pass to evade the gatekeepers unscathed.
This actually makes me think a lot about the variations between species intelligences. As Darwin famously said so long ago: differences of degree more than kind.
If you love gardening? I consider that outdoorsy. If you love backpacking? Heck yes, outdoorsy. If you love sitting on your front porch breathing in the sunset air, watching a few birds or insects flutter about in the dying light? Outdoorsy. Different flavors and intensities of outdoorsy, each of these examples, but all still fundamentally rooted in a connection to—and enjoyment of—nature.
So… we both are and aren’t outdoorsy
Before living in a van, I’d say Sean and I were average or maybe slightly-below-average outdoorsy in the traditional ways many people first think of.
We were happy to hike short distances, we liked camping on occasion, you couldn’t physically keep me away from the wonder that was the nearby beach. But we were far from marathon athletes, I struggled a lot if I felt dirty (or like my space wasn’t clean), and we spent the bulk of our days inside.
After almost a year on the road, I’d say we’re slightly-above-average outdoorsy now.
We’ve put on hundreds more miles. We’ve swam in glacier fed lakes, sunbathed on dusty public lands, gone days without showers, tolerated more dirt than ever before. We’re still not overnight backpackers or 15-miles-in-a-day hikers or talented off roaders. (Chances are we never will be.) But I’ve felt more connected to the natural world around me than ever before.
The thing with all the above, though, is that it’s still looking at “outdoorsy” in a pretty classic sense.
And while I don’t think there’s anything inherently wrong with that, I do want to be aware of when I’m taking that perspective. Because it isn’t a competition. It doesn’t have to be a comparison game. What even is “average” or “normal” anyway? (Yes, stats nerds, I see you—average is the mean of a data set. But to quantify that we need to clearly define our metrics, and gather a sample we trust, and and and… my point still stands. )
Outdoorsy isn’t just one thing. Adventurous isn’t just one thing. And above all, everyone who wants to experience nature—in whatever flavor and intensity feels right to them—should be welcomed, encouraged, and validated.
So yeah… go touch some grass.