rebuildingthroughmiles

The First Step Back

Where: Raven Rock State Park
Trail: Campbell Creek Loop (4.5 miles)
Date: January 2026

Why I Went

Every January, I would make New Year’s resolutions.

Every year, they started with excitement and ended the same way—with good intentions that slowly faded away.

This time, I wanted something different.

I didn’t want another resolution. I wanted a habit that would change the way I lived.

The previous year had been difficult. I had stopped hiking after developing vertigo during the summer of 2024. Between my health, work, school, and life, I had become almost completely sedentary. At the same time, our family was going through major changes. My mom had moved back to Puerto Rico, and my adult sons were beginning lives of their own. What had once been a busy house of four or five people was now just my son—who prefers to go by Chara here on the blog—and me.

He was also beginning a new chapter as we transitioned into homeschooling.

We both needed a fresh start.

So one morning I asked, “Want to go hiking?”

To my surprise, he didn’t hesitate.

He wanted to go.

That meant more to me than he probably realized.

We headed to Raven Rock State Park, a place we had visited before, but this time we chose the Campbell Creek Loop Trail. Before starting, we wandered through the visitor center, reading about the history of the Cape Fear River and how, for generations, people tried to overcome the powerful rapids along the Fall Zone. They blasted rocks with black powder, built canals, locks, and dams—but nature always had the final say.

The exhibit was titled Nature Holds the Upper Hand.

At the time, I didn’t realize nature was about to humble me too.

Less than a third of a mile into the hike, before we even reached the first wooden bridge, there was a bench.

I needed it.

I was already out of breath.

“Ay bendito…” I remember thinking. “We haven’t even made it to the bridge yet.”

Chara laughed and teased me about being out of shape, but he also waited patiently while I caught my breath. I laughed with him, even though inside I was wondering what I had gotten myself into.

Then came the hills.

Four of them.

Each one seemed steeper than the last.

By about mile 1.5, I seriously thought about turning around. I even asked Chara if he wanted to head back.

His answer surprised me.

“No. We said we were doing the whole trail, so we’re doing the whole trail.”

Normally, parents are the ones encouraging their kids.

That day, my son encouraged me.

As we continued, we passed a few backpackers carrying packs much larger than my tiny daypack. I couldn’t imagine how they made it look so effortless when I was exhausted carrying little more than a bottle of water.

Looking back now, it’s funny to think that six months later I would return to Raven Rock carrying my own backpack for my very first overnight camping trip.

Eventually the climbing ended, and the trail leveled out along the Cape Fear River.

Everything slowed down.

The river flowed quietly beside us while sunlight filtered through the trees. Birds seemed to be everywhere. One of my favorite things about North Carolina is that whether you’re deep inside a state park or simply sitting in your own backyard, you’re surrounded by birdsong. Raven Rock was no different.

For long stretches, we didn’t say much.

We just walked.

And somehow, in those quiet moments without phones, televisions, or other distractions, Chara began talking.

Side by side on a trail seemed easier than sitting face-to-face at home. He opened up about things we probably never would have talked about in the living room. Nature gave us something neither of us knew we needed—space to simply be together.

By the time we reached the parking lot, I was exhausted.

But I was also incredibly proud.

On the drive home, I remember saying, “I need to do more of this.”

Maybe it was because we didn’t have to force conversation. We could simply walk, and somehow the words came naturally.

He opened up about things we probably never would have talked about in the living room. Nature gave us something neither of us knew we needed—space to simply be together.

By the time we reached the parking lot, I was exhausted.

Pero también me sentía orgullosa. For the first time in a long time, I felt capable again.

On the drive home, I remember saying, “I need to do more of this.”

When I asked Chara if he wanted to go again, his answer was an immediate yes.

He started naming places he wanted us to revisit—Pisgah, Hanging Rock—and even mentioned camping, something we hadn’t done together in years.

Neither of us knew it then, but that conversation would become the beginning of countless hikes, camping trips, races, road trips, and memories together.

Looking back now, that hike wasn’t just another Saturday morning in the woods.

It was the beginning of a new tradition.

It reminded me that creating meaningful memories with my son didn’t require expensive vacations or elaborate plans. Sometimes all it takes is a trail, a pair of hiking shoes, and the willingness to keep going when the next hill feels impossible.

That day, I thought I was simply returning to hiking.

What I didn’t know was that I had taken the first steps toward rebuilding my life—one mile, one conversation, and one adventure at a time.

Adventure Stats

📅 Date: January 2026
📍 Location: Raven Rock State Park, Lillington, North Carolina
🥾 Trail: Campbell Creek Loop (4.5 miles)
👥 Adventure Crew: Chara & me
❤️ Favorite Moment: Realizing that when I wanted to turn back, Chara reminded me we had committed to finishing the trail—and he encouraged me to keep going.
🌿 Lesson Learned: The hardest part isn’t always the trail—it’s believing you can finish it. Sometimes the people we hope to inspire end up giving us the strength to keep going.

Until the next mile,

Shak