One unexpected lesson I learned from traveling with just a backpack is that you can’t make excuses if you want to stay active. If you spend time looking for the perfect outfit, the best gear, or the right location, you’ll end up with a long list of reasons why you can’t exercise.
“I don’t have the right clothes to go to yoga class,” one of my family members said this week when I invited her to a free session at the local recreation center. We were both vacationing with only a backpack’s worth of clothes. She skipped the class, and I went in the same outfit I’d already worn for biking, walking, and pickleball that day.
As long as I feel comfortable and safe, I’ll say yes to almost any exercise while I’m traveling. Living out of a single backpack for months at a time has completely changed how I think about staying healthy.
I was inspired to adopt this mindset in my early 20s while living in a rural village in Cameroon. My only options for exercise were running through the jungle and carrying buckets of drinking water from the well to my house. Since then, I’ve realized that if I want to take care of my body in different environments and situations, I have to be willing to work with whatever conditions I have.
I realized that most workouts can be done in the same outfit
I pack one quick-dry, breathable shirt, a pair of shorts, and two sports bras for every trip. I wear the same waterproof trail running shoes whether I’m hiking, playing pickleball, or walking around a new city.
Sun protection is just as important. A bandana keeps the sun off my neck while also holding back my hair, and I pack lightweight sun gloves that double as cycling gloves. That same outfit even works for many water sports when I want extra sun coverage.
Sometimes people arrive at yoga classes wearing expensive matching sets. I’m just proud that I figured out how to find and sign up for a workout in a new country. Any self-consciousness I might feel about my clothes disappears as soon as class begins. Besides, the people I meet while traveling will probably never see me again.
While I will run in the rain, sun, or snow, I have limits. I don’t feel bad about skipping an intense three-day trek because I didn’t pack heavy hiking boots. Traveling light means accepting a few trade-offs, and I’m comfortable with that.
I borrow or rent gear instead of buying it
Some sports also have specialized equipment, which can get expensive, but you can rent or borrow whatever you need if you’re resourceful. I’ve been handed a karate uniform in Seoul, climbing shoes for bouldering in Hanoi, a surfboard in Peru, and a helmet for windsurfing in Thessaloniki.
Buying and hauling sports equipment around the world would be expensive, heavy, and impractical. By not owning much gear, I feel freer to try new activities wherever I go. Sports that require me to purchase lots of expensive equipment, like scuba diving or skiing, simply aren’t a priority for me.
When I’m booking accommodations, I look for places with bikes or a yoga mat. If I’m visiting friends, I’ll happily ask to borrow whatever equipment we need for an activity. I also benefit from having a boyfriend who’s the same size as me, which effectively doubles my workout wardrobe whenever we’re together.
Traveling light reminds me that working out should be simple
Exercise should be easy and affordable. Wearing the same outfit for nearly every workout reminds me that I’m there to care for my body, not to impress anyone.
I spend less time packing, shopping, and deciding what to wear, and more time actually moving. Living for months out of a backpack has taught me that I don’t need perfect conditions to stay active. I just need to show up.
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