Me And Nature Vibe Like That

There’s something about spending hours on a long trail that changes your mental state. At the beginning of a hike, I’m aware of everything. The air feels different. I’m paying attention to my footing. I’m taking in the trees, the sky, the quiet. It feels grounding in a way that’s hard to explain unless you’ve been out there long enough to feel it yourself. Being outside like that strips things down. It reminds me that most of what stresses me out during the week isn’t actually urgent. The trail has a way of putting things back into proportion.

And sometimes, that silence is exactly what I need. I need the space. I need the quiet. I need to hear my own thoughts without distraction.

But if I’m being honest, there are also moments when the silence gives my thoughts too much room to roam. After a few hours of steady movement, the body settles into a rhythm but the mind can start wandering in ways that aren’t always helpful. I’ll replay conversations. Think about work. Overanalyze something from the week before. Plan the future. Revisit the past. The miles keep stacking up, and so do the thoughts. At some point, I’m not hiking anymore. I’m spiraling.

That’s usually when I reach for music.

I’ve noticed this not just on the trail, but during long training days, half marathons, bike rides around town, or tough sessions at the gym. There’s a point in any extended effort where I don’t need more scenery. I need rhythm. I need something that cuts through the mental noise and helps me lock back into what I’m actually doing.

There’s real science behind why this works. Studies in sports psychology show that music can improve endurance and reduce how hard an effort feels. Rhythmic beats help regulate cadence, which makes movement more efficient. Listening to songs you love can trigger dopamine release, boosting motivation and mood. Music can literally shift how your brain processes physical effort. It’s not just a distraction. It’s a performance tool.

But honestly, the way it feels to me is simpler than the research.

When I press play, my steps fall into rhythm almost immediately. My breathing evens out. The chatter in my head softens. I stop negotiating with myself about how far is left or how tired I feel. I just move. The song carries me forward. It doesn’t disconnect me from the trail. It pulls me back into it. I’m still outside. I’m still present. I’m just not stuck in my own head.

Over time, I’ve realized the type of music matters. If I’m feeling heavy, I don’t always try to override that with something upbeat. Sometimes I lean into it. Sad music can help me explore what I’m feeling without spiraling. It gives emotion structure. It feels contained instead of chaotic. There’s something about letting a song hold the weight for a few miles.

If I’m energized, faster tempo tracks push me further. My stride naturally changes. My posture lifts. It feels like I have a metronome built into my body. And if I just want to feel light, upbeat pop works. There’s something powerful about smiling at mile eight because a ridiculous song came on and you can’t help but sing along. That shift in mood can change the entire tone of a day.

Music doesn’t fix everything, but it meets me where I am. On long efforts, that’s enough.

I’ve started building playlists based on effort and mood. Long steady miles. Hard climbs. Recovery walks. Reflective evenings. It’s intentional. Platforms like Spotify or Apple Music make it easy to organize by vibe or tempo, and there’s something fun about naming a playlist after the energy I want to bring into a day. It becomes part of the ritual. It also becomes something you can share. Music is deeply personal, but it’s also communal. Sharing a playlist is like saying, this is what carries me, maybe it’ll carry you too.

There’s one thing that matters here though.

Nature is shared space. If you’re out on a trail blasting music from a Bluetooth speaker, you’re not just enjoying your soundtrack. You’re forcing it on everyone else. That’s not what the outdoors is about. People go outside for quiet. For space. For their own experience. If you want music, use headphones. Keep the volume low enough that you’re still aware of your surroundings. Stay safe. Stay present. Move to your own soundtrack without interrupting someone else’s.

Respect is part of trail culture. We can all vibe out there together, but we don’t all need to hear the same song.

If you want something to get you smiling on your next hike, I’ve put together a Hike The Sunshine playlist for you: