"Environmentors"

My relationship with the environment began to take shape when I was very young. My parents, hailing from Youngstown and Cleveland, seemed ready to take advantage of the fresh air offered by the fields and farms of the small rural town of Hartville, where they chose to settle down and raise a family. So as soon as my brother and I were up and walking, we found ourselves outside. The earliest memory I can call upon is the building of our large back deck, an act that can say a lot about the priorities of a family. A deck is a deliberate creation of space strictly for spending time outside closer to our environment. My parents chose to do a lot of things in this vein. Slip and slides, swimming pools and picking yellow cherries off of knobby aging trees are the scenes that dominate my memories from the years spent at our first house. I never touched a video game. Before I could begin to assemble a personal code of ethics towards nature, my relationship with the land and appreciation of weather and atmosphere was already forming.

                  We moved when I was three to the new house. A bigger home set back from the road, on 3 acres with woods. Here was where I formed my first real attitudes towards nature. My only real sources of values, besides the Berenstein bears and Curious George, were still my parents. I learned from their subtle respect for the environment.  I watched my parents plan for the house trying to spare as many of the robust century-old trees around the foundation as they could. I saw planning for a fire pit and eventually the construction of a tree house that would make any kid a king. Whether it was their being a product of the 60’s, or their excitement about having green space of some sort, their push to be outside and embrace the land was evident.

                  I had values instilled in me without formal teaching. I knew to recycle because it was simply what we did and I viewed it as inherently good. I knew not to litter because my dad would pick up trash in public places as if it were his duty. I acquired an elementary set of core environmental values that all sought to preserve the land around me, but they were admittedly small values and practices that are only the skeleton of a belief system. I did not yet know why I wanted to do these things or how I was affecting the world around me. It wasn’t until I came of age that I felt a direct connection with the earth and it came again through following in my parent’s footsteps. In this case it was the footsteps of my Dad and the steps were taken in running shoes.

                  It is said that you are what you repeatedly do. I repeatedly run. Day after day, mile after mile. It is more than a release or a way to stay in shape for me. It is a lifestyle. One that I adopted for the past 10 years and that has put in the company of droves of athletes like me. Running at an elite level has taken me across the country and taught me countless lessons, some of which I probably haven’t even realized yet. As influential as the sport has been in shaping my everyday routines and social circles, it has been equally influential in shaping my views about the natural world around me. My daily runs keep me in tune with the earth in a way that few get to experience. I feel its every breath and change of mood. I feel the seasons change in my bones and in my stride. It has occurred to me that my passion makes me dependent upon the earth in many ways, down to the very air that fills my lungs on any given run. I breathe the local air with the assumption that it is clean and healthy. I rely on undeveloped land filled with trails and soft surfaces to run safely. My appreciation of nature has grown through my continued exposure to the rawest of landscapes and the simple pleasure derived from the natural activity. An avid fan of Van Morrison, I can relate many of my moments of pleasure to the song ‘It Stoned Me,’ in which Morrison recounts experiences with nature that have given him a natural high greater than many artificial supplement. He recalls being ‘stoned’ when told the water he was drinking came straight from a mountain stream. Some of my most intimate and moving moments are solitary runs in nature or runs with others in wild tracts of forest that literally give me a feeling equal to but altogether unique from the best of beer buzzes. This distinct natural pleasure, the byproduct of conditioning myself in places that are often easy on the naturalist eyes, has slowly molded my mere appreciation of nature into the recognition of a reciprocal relationship. I want this relationship to continue. To age gracefully. To grow and mature. I have realized that I have to keep my end of the bargain.

                  This understanding and ‘call to duty’ mentality was amplified with my move to Athens, where I have lived for the past 4 years. A community surrounded by greater natural beauty than anywhere I’ve ever lived has kept me from taking the biosphere for granted, but playing even a bigger role in this has been the community of Athens. Progressive thinkers. Farmers Markets. Restaurants that not only practice but promote sustainability. I am surrounded by individuals that are ahead of the curve and, in their own ways, be it running or serving food, have recognized the same symbiotic relationship that I have, and are successfully holding up their end of the bargain. I came to Athens also at a time in our society where the people that have been practicing these things for years, be it in the trenches of Athens agriculture, or the California coast, have managed to make living green cool. My generation’s accelerating understanding and acceptance of our social responsibility to our world coincided with my college years, a time of personal moratorium. This has made my decisions regarding the environment and our need to protect it that much easier, riding the wave of an informed and conscious pop culture that is starting to cause some ripples.