For as much mental clarity as running gives me, I hadn’t felt driven to do it much anymore. Which is strange because running and going outside are things I used to crave. That’s how I’d escape the world and all its stress. Because it gave me a predictable amount of time where I knew people couldn’t get ahold of me.
That used to be “me time.”
But over the past few years, as I’ve rebuilt my life and created better boundaries, I haven’t needed it in the same way. It’s just… kind of baked in now? For example, I get up early so I can have slow, “me time” mornings. The problem is that I haven’t found ways to rebalance my love of running and the outdoors with this rebuilt way of being… yet.
Finding clarity and sharing it are not the same thing.
Clarity plays a big role in my life. I’ve always held clarity close. I search for it, I try to create it, and I help others find it, too. That’s what running used to give me.
Even with clarity, I feel like I can’t connect with people—that I don’t communicate well. Often, when I try to share my thoughts, I seem to thoroughly confuse folks instead of clearing things up. This, of course, is why I love writing… since it offers me a chance to arrange things before spewing words at people. Because being misunderstood can be really frustrating. So, that’s actually why I started this newsletter. And this podcast. It’s also what led to my daily email series and it’s why I’m doing the MAP Year project (more on that later).
These things are forcing me to get better at communicating, by design. I just have never felt comfortable sharing all that much about myself. Yes, I offer processed thoughts to audiences—but I struggle to exchange real feelings in real time. So the only way to get better is to lean into that discomfort and to practice.
I try to share things in ways that allow people to grab on and join in. I recently wrote an essay about male loneliness, admitting that I’m lonely in my social life, and that essay took off on Substack. People really latched on. In under a week, it got more views than anything I’ve written in the last year—more likes, comments, shares.
Part of my loneliness came from a self-imposed isolation over the last few years. And it was intentional in order to work on myself. Everything I’ve been working on lately has been in service of finding my voice again and feeling good about using it.
The Unobstructed Podcast: Episode 30
This episode of The Unobstructed Podcast is a personal reflection on self-discovery, communication, and personal growth. I get into my self-inflicted social isolation as well as my changed relationship with the outdoors.
I used to be very active… and I’m not anymore. Before my traumatic brain injury, I worked, lived, and socialized in the world of outdoor sports. Then, after the accident, I’d hoped I could love the outdoors again in ways where my livelihood wasn’t attached to it. And I haven’t been able to recover that, which is hard. Repercussions hit my social life too. Ultimately, this is what led to feeling isolated. Which is why I’m so focused on becoming better at communicating.
Outdoor trips like the ones I used to lead offered a level playing field for people to bond.
For most people, trips like the ones I led were their first foray into exploring the outdoors at that level—immersive, multi-week trips off-grid. What I loved most is that everybody’s suddenly on equal footing. It doesn’t matter who you were back home, necessarily. Once you’re in that outdoor setting the playing field levels out. It creates the conditions to reinforce a strong sense of self.
One memory that sticks with me is from a trip in the Tetons with a student who had cochlear implants for his differently-abled hearing. Their mom was more nervous than even they seemed to be during pre-trip drop off. I made it my mission for them to feel completely included and part of our group—to have fun without worrying about fitting in. So, by the end of our trip when the student and their mom shared a heart-felt thank you with me, it left all of us in tears.
That moment means a lot to me. And that kind of depth took a couple of weeks to create. It showed me how much time and space matter if you want real connection—which is probably why I stumble when trying to fit that same depth into bite-sized, social media posts.
I like writing long-form and I like podcasting because it allows for deep conversations. But I don’t feel like I meet the mold of what grabs attention if you’re scrolling. Which is something I worry about a bit, because I question my ability to reach more people.
Getting comfortable with not being easily digestible.
I am not going to clickbait people. For me, that’s similar to superficial small talk in-person, which I also hate. I would much rather have one-on-one, or small group conversations. But when it comes to writing essays and putting together podcast episodes like this? Content like this builds over time. To me, that’s the same as leading those multi-week trips. So it’s hard to make it bite-sized.
Yes, I know they’re different things. But it’s more of the same for me. Because I’ve long struggled with trying to have a verbal volley or a talking tennis match with people. I say something, you say something, I share something, you respond to it, you share something, I respond to it. I know how to do it, in theory. But I’m much better when somebody else goes first. I have plenty to say—thoughts and opinions galore. But I’m just not someone who walks into a room and starts chatting.
Being okay with restarting your streak at zero.
Since I’m trying to see if I can get more connected with the outdoors again, a friend and I went camping recently. Baby steps… right? Anyway, we were sitting around a campfire. We’d already set up our tent, made some food over the fire, and now we’re chatting. It’s a super clear, summer night in Vermont.
We talked for a long time about this whole balance thing: juggling everything between work, friends, family. And, of course, finding time to go to the gym and go food shopping. Can’t forget all that “life” stuff. But that’s when he reminded me of something we’ve chatted about before: the idea of going back to the gym for the first time in a while. That conversation felt timely. Because it speaks to exactly what I’ve been wrestling with, which is coming back to the stuff I’ve drifted from a bit. Whether that’s running, friendships, or even creativity.
We’ve all been there when you’re doing something consistently and then your momentum stalls. So in your head, the guilt and resistance start to build. But eventually, you finally go. Which means now you can go tomorrow, since you’re not starting from zero anymore. That discomfort of getting back to something is what builds real momentum. It’s the ability to get back on the horse, so to speak.
That’s been the biggest challenge for me too. One of my biggest breakthroughs in the last few years has been adopting a “Day 1 at the gym” mindset for everything. Because if you don’t care that it’s Day 1 again, you’ll do more of the thing you’re resisting. Sure, you might go to the gym here and there, but if you stop worrying about the streak you’ll probably end up going more often.
I talk about all of this and more in the episode. You can listen above via Substack and also on Spotify, Apple Podcasts, and Amazon Music.
onward.
P.S. I’m looking to meet more folks working on creative projects, side-hustles, or solo businesses. If that’s you, I’d love to have you join The Map Year Project.
