7 Tips for Hiking with Chronic Pain [Down to Earth Guide]
They say to write about what you know. I wish this article were called 7 Ways to Avoid Conflict while Dating Multiple Handsome Men. But here we are. Years ago, I rode my bike over a pothole and smashed my leg on the bike frame. It can happen that fast. My body hasn’t worked the same way since. Walking used to be as easy as breathing. Now, it’s asymmetrical and stiff and painful. Medical treatments have been, shall we say, underwhelming. It’s strange, perhaps, that I write a hiking blog. I almost can’t hike. The fact is that I still love it more than anything else in the world, even when it hurts. This one won’t be for everyone, but I know it’s for someone. Here are practical tips on hiking with chronic pain, disability, or illness. Let’s get outside.
Predictable disclaimers
These tips are hiking advice, not medical advice. Always talk with your healthcare provider before starting a new exercise routine, especially in the context of chronic pain or illness.
I’m writing with the experience of my limitations, which are mostly distance-related. I don’t have trouble with, say, stairs, uneven terrain, blood sugar swings, neuropathy, and so on. I’ve tried to keep the tips broadly applicable, but if something I say doesn’t resonate, ignore it. You will always know your body better than a stranger on the internet.
Tips for hiking with chronic pain
1. Pick a realistic and rewarding destination
It’s always a good idea to research a hike before heading out. If you have chronic pain or disability, it’s a must. Start with the basics like distance, elevation gain, and intensity. Keep in mind that the people rating trail difficulty are often avid hikers. I’ve rolled my eyes plenty of times while limping through a hike rated as easy. Blogs, trip reports, and guidebooks are great resources to learn about your destination. All Trails comments can tell you about recent trail conditions. A normally easy trail can become challenging after a windstorm knocks down trees or heavy rains create thick mud.
The number one mistake I make when hiking is picking too long of a trail, thinking I’ll turn around early. Once I’m there, I don’t want to stop. This creates two problems: I go too far, and I’m frustrated that I had to turn around before the end. A better choice is a trail with an exciting finale at a doable distance. Having a clear turnaround point takes away the stressful guesswork over how many steps are too many. Factor in travel time as well as trail distance. Prolonged sitting in the car is at least as challenging for me as the trail.
2. Choose hiking buddies carefully
Hiking culture tends to be destination and distance-focused, which, when you think about it, is a little silly. I’ve met people who won’t go on short and easy hikes. They would rather stay home than hike a trail that doesn’t sound impressive or intense. On the trail, they are competitive and laser-focused on reaching the end. If you have chronic pain or illness, do not hike with these people. They can be your dinner night or board game friends.
Instead, find people whose egos don’t come along on the trail. You have enough to deal with. My favorite people to hike with these days aren’t the most avid hikers. They don’t care about statistics: the number of miles, feet of elevation, and so on. They enjoy other parts of the trip, like the beauty of the woods, the social interaction, or the joy of moving our bodies however we can.
Don’t be afraid to go by yourself. When I take a risk on a challenging (to me) trail, I usually go alone. Even if no one puts pressure on me, I worry about stopping too often and making other people impatient. When I’m alone, I can take 8,000 stretch breaks in an hour without watching to see if anyone is tapping their foot.
3. Bring the right stuff
You don’t need a lot of gear for day hiking. The most important thing, especially in the context of chronic pain, is footwear. Don’t cut corners with shoes, even on short hikes. I’ve had worn-out shoes create problems like foot and ankle pain on the trail. Wear shoes in good condition, preferably hiking boots. They don’t need to be top-of-the-line, but they do need to be comfortable. Bring plenty of water if you’re hiking more than a mile or two (or any distance in the desert). If you’re tackling a longer hike, bring some snacks.
Bringing the right stuff also means leaving behind what you don’t need. Carrying more weight puts more stress on the body, which can exacerbate pain. Since I’m always bringing my big ol’ camera, I try to leave behind as much as possible. I have an extra water bottle in the car so I can finish the water I bring on the trail. I don’t carry a utility knife or first aid kit or any of the other hundred things advertisements tell you that you need.
4. Love everything
If you have chronic pain or illness, it’s hard to reach a flow state when you’re hiking. Pain is distracting and tiring. I used to crave the physical motion of walking. Now it’s too uncomfortable. It feels like trying to ride a bike with a crooked wheel. I still love hiking, but not because of the action of putting one foot in front of another. It’s about the joy of moving through nature. It helps to love the details. I’ve learned the names of a gazillion trees, flowers, and birds. I could give you a quick and dirty geologic history of pretty much anywhere around where I live in the Pacific Northwest. I know when and where wildflowers bloom. I haven’t a clue how to summit a mountain.
When I think back to the long hikes I did before my accident, the memories are fuzzy. Mostly, I remember whether I finished the hike and if I enjoyed it. After the accident, thinking back on a hike is like watching a video of it. Of course, some of that is the effect of time. Recent memories tend to be clearer than distant ones. But it’s more than that. I pay more attention now and take less for granted.
5. Take breaks
Taking breaks is obvious in theory but easy to forget in the moment. Conventional wisdom preaches powering through the pain and pushing your body’s limits. It’s hard to overcome that conditioning. Let me tell you, what does not kill you does not always make you stronger. Sometimes, it replaces your muscle fibers with a contracted mess of scar tissue. One of the mistakes I made during my recovery was to ignore pain, which I mistakenly equated with weakness. I still struggle to find a balance between necessary life functioning and symptom accommodation.
One of the things I like about photography is that it forces me to slow down and stop often. It also signals to other people that I’m stopping without needing to bring up my disability over and over. Plus, I get some nice pictures from it.
6. Plan on aftercare
Before my accident, hiking aftercare meant going for pizza and beer. Then, maybe another hike. Now, it means heating pads, foam rollers, and ibuprofen. Whatever helps your chronic pain symptoms, make time for it after your hike. I’ve found that anticipating an exacerbation in pain helps minimize the impact on my body the next day.
7. Make space for feelings
Hiking, especially solo hiking, tends to bring up feelings. Partly, it’s the physicality of it. If you’ve had a change in your abilities, it will be glaringly obvious on the trail, to you if no one else. Another part is the rumination. Hiking gives you time to be alone with your thoughts. While not a bad thing, it can be challenging and uncomfortable when your thoughts are about why you have this stupid, useless, thrice-cursed chronic pain. Exercise for the able-bodied is a great way to process and move through feelings. If you have trouble with motion, the relationship between physical activity and emotional well-being will be more complicated. And that’s okay.
I find nature a profoundly healing place, so much so that physical discomfort cannot ruin its benefits. The mind craves beauty as much as the body does food and water. After being in the woods, my brain feels like it’s had a deep clean. Even when activity is hard, I think it adds something to the experience of being outside. I also don’t think you need to break any speed or distance records to get the benefit.
Tips for hiking with chronic pain, the summary:
Pick a realistic and rewarding destination
Choose hiking buddies carefully
Bring the right stuff
Love the details
Take breaks
Plan on aftercare
Make space for feelings
Take care of yourself, and hope to see you on the trails!
With love,
Emma
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If you live in the Pacific Northwest, check out my blog for hiking and recreation suggestions.
