Historically, Black and Indigenous communities and people of color have had less access to nature than white communities. In fact, according to a 2020 report commissioned by the Hispanic Access Foundation and the Center for American Progress, communities of color are more than three times as likely to live in nature-deprived places, meaning they have less access to forests, streams, and other natural places than white communities. Aside from access issues, people of color can also face risks like intimidation, stereotyping, or even violence when trying to enjoy outdoor places, according to the report.

As a result, members of these communities are less likely to experience the benefits that the outdoors has to offer: According to a 2018 study in the Journal of Forestry, the vast majority of national forest visitors across the US self-identified as white, with only 6% identifying as Hispanic or Latino, and 1% identifying as Black. Similarly, according to the National Health Foundation, while people of color make up nearly 40% of the U.S. population, people who are white comprise about 70% of all those who visit national wildlife refuges, national parks, and national forests.

Events of the last few years—from the tragic shooting of runner Ahmaud Arbery to the false accusation of bird watcher Christian Cooper—have sparked important conversations about inclusivity and the accessibility of popular outdoor activities. As a result, grassroots organizations have emerged to break these barriers, boost inclusivity, and help bring nature to more people. For instance, organizations like the Running Industry Diversity Coalition and the Inclusive Outdoors Project devote time and resources to raising awareness of outdoors inequity and diversifying outdoor communities and events. (Of course, the work toward inclusivity should solely not fall on the shoulders of people from these marginalized groups. Work—such as reaching out to underrepresented communities when considering where to create outdoor recreational settings—is needed on a systemic level, as the Center for American Progress report detailed.)

“Connecting with a community can make such a difference as far as not feeling alone and to just make the time [outdoors] more joyful,” Kim Walker, cofounder of Abundant Life Adventure Club, a community that uses outdoor activities to help Black professionals break away from the hustle and grind of everyday life, tells SELF.

Though connecting with a community can help you ease into the outdoors, it’s not the only way to find joy in nature—for some, the solitary aspect can offer the restoration they crave. After all, outdoor joy is really individualized, and what matters most is finding a way to experience it that speaks most to you. Here, 14 people of color share the stories of how they were able to discover their own level of joy in the outdoors.

1. I built self-confidence by bolstering my outdoor survival skills.
“As a person whose family suffers from a range of chronic, stress-related health issues—like high blood pressure, diabetes, heart disease, and other medical conditions—it’s really important for me to live and move in a way that can help prevent these problems from popping up in my life. I know that the more time I spend both moving and simply being outside in the woods, near water, or in my neighborhood park, the more stable my metabolic profile tends to be.

Personally, running on trails fills me in so many ways. I love being nestled deep in the forest with only the silence of the trees and the chirping of migratory birds surrounding me, listening to the rhythm of my own footfalls on crunchy snow or dry autumn leaves. I also love backpacking, which is not for the faint of heart but is a great way to learn about how well you can take care of yourself outside. It’s an incredible boost to your self-confidence, and it’s the perfect combination of all things outdoors—you hike, you cook your own food, and you camp.

When I run, hike, or ride my mountain bike on a trail, I am not only fulfilling a life of adventure, I am rewriting the narrative that people like me don’t do the outdoors and I’m opening up access to those who think that these spaces aren’t for them. Seeing is believing. Believing is seeing. Nature is for all.” —Mirna Valerio, an ultramarathoner and outdoors influencer from Montpelier, Vermont, and author of A Beautiful Work in Progress

2. I ran to connect with my land and represent my people.
“Running has always been a mental escape for me, but as I got older I realized that it holds a greater role in my culture and life philosophy as a Diné woman. I am lucky to have grown up in New Mexico, a place where it is common to see and be in community with other Indigenous runners, hikers, and athletes. I’ve been running joyfully, as a form of play, since I was a kid. My parents made sure I knew I was part of a longstanding tradition of Navajo distance runners, using this form of movement as a way to pray, connect with the land, and represent our people.

So when I got older and went to college 2,000 miles away, I used running as a way to cope with the resulting isolation. I got to know the East Coast air, water, and landscape quickly by simply spending time outdoors and running. Much like my experience nowadays as a woman of color in the fitness industry, I did not see runners like me at regional road races or in local run groups during those years. Even so, running was still my way to feel connected to my family when they weren’t near and to my culture when I was so far from my homeland.

Eventually, I wanted to help change that feeling of isolation for other Indigenous runners and help more people find joy in movement. In 2020, I started the Grounded Podcast with Dinée Dorame, where I speak with athletes of all backgrounds about the intersection of land, community, running, and culture. The opportunity to speak with so many athletes, each with a different story and experience, has renewed that childlike spirit in running for me—and has been a reminder that we all deserve to feel welcomed, included, seen, and joyful in the outdoors.” —Dinée Dorame, a runner in Albuquerque, New Mexico, and host of the Grounded Podcast with Dinée Dorame

3. I leaned into the awe of nature and all that it represents to my community.
“‘Cultura’ has been one key component to finding joy in the outdoors for me. That was one critical element for me when founding Latino Outdoors—to ask questions such as ‘Where are others like me?’ or ‘What does it mean to experience the outdoors in such a community?’ Basically so I don’t have to leave my cultura at the trailhead and can carry it with me like other essential outdoor components in my daypack.

From the answers that come out of those questions, we create, experience, and share joy. There’s definitely a joy that comes from the awe of nature and the majesty of the landscape, which [fuel] the experience. And it also comes from the smile of a dad or mom experiencing an outdoor activity with their kids for the first time; from the linguistic and cultural code on the trail that is representative of our multifaceted identities; from putting my hands on the earth and practicing gratitude to Tonantzin [“Our Sacred Mother” in Nahuatl] and all culturally divine forces. It’s a joy that is liberating, nurturing, and healing, one that honors the expression ‘La cultura cura,’ [cultural-based healing] and one that we cocreate outdoors, embodying a practice of being future ancestors.” —José González, a conservationist and creator of Latino Outdoors, a Latinx-led organization that aims to inspire, connect, and engage Latino communities in the outdoors through outdoor recreation, conservation and environmental education

4. I used the outdoors to build a hobby—and a community.
“When the COVID-19 pandemic hit, I took it as an opportunity to rest and spend more time outside, to try to make the best out of the worst situation by exploring hobbies that brought joy into my life. I started taking more walks outside, until eventually I started running. I fell in love with the process of progress and the challenges that came with it.

As an immigrant, a Jamaican woman, a Black woman, and a first-generation raised American, there are so many nuances of being in the fitness world that no one ever tells you about. Simply being outdoors and experiencing the sun on my skin gives me joy, but running, playing sports, or hiking brings new meaning to my life. They also highlight how very alone I sometimes am when it comes to enjoying the outdoors. I am constantly aware of my surroundings, the ratio of people of color to white people in an area, how late it is, when the sun sets, and any pieces of personal protection I may have with me. It can be exhausting, but I think people of color, especially the Black community, have become accustomed to doing more to stay safe in a world that was not intended for them to thrive.

Yet we still do. I have sought and found a diverse fitness and running community in Boston. I’ve aligned myself with certain groups because their mission is the same as mine—making fitness, or just being outside, as equitable and accessible for minorities as it is for everyone else.” —Tameca Fowling, a runner in Cambridge, Massachusetts

5. I channeled my outdoors expertise to help others gain it too.
“How I view the outdoors is both nuanced and simple. My number one priority is to center myself on what it means to be human whenever I’m connecting with our natural landscapes. It’s about knowing that my body is my own in its autonomous beauty but, at the same time, it’s interconnected with everything and everyone around me. And because of that interconnection, I think that our duty is to continue to build more caring communities. That’s something I’ve noticed is lacking, especially due to our community’s traumas throughout the pandemic.

One major thing I’ve focused on is the influence I have on those around me, which is why I cocreated the Inclusive Outdoors Project with fellow diversity, equity, and inclusion strategist Sophia Bielsky. This serves to bring awareness to one of the major barriers to the outdoors for marginalized groups: access. I know I have the ability to control many parts of my life, and I view that as a massive privilege, but the question I ask that has held me accountable is, ‘How do I use that to better the lives of others around me in the ways they prefer to?’ That’s why I am intentional with the relationships I build and the collaborations I create, all of which are based on my three values: community, land, and joy.” –Vasu Sojitra, a diversity, equity, and inclusion strategist in Bozeman, Montana, and cocreator of the Inclusive Outdoors Project

6. I reminded myself that I deserve to find peace and be present in nature.
“The joy that I find in the outdoors comes from being able to redirect my attention from my usual stream of racing thoughts and focus on the environment around me. I often get stuck in the cycle of constantly checking emails, mindlessly scrolling social media, or following minute by minute updates on the latest traumatic or anxiety-inducing news story. Being outdoors is an escape from all of that.

I find that it gives me permission to take a break from the constant connection to everything happening in the world. For a few hours, days, or nights, I get to let go of other people’s expectations of me and the expectations I have of myself and just be present in nature. It’s not difficult for me to recall moments of discomfort from being the only Black woman in a white-dominated outdoor space. However, the peace that I find is a reminder that I too belong in those spaces and that I should claim that peace where I can.” —Michelle Race, cofounder of Black Girls Trekkin’, a group for women of color who run, hike, swim, and climb

7. I went outside to foster peace and tranquility.
“I’m on the road for 14 hours a day as a commercial truck driver, which is a very sedentary yet high-stress job. Spending time outdoors brings me peace and grounding and a way to unwind. It centers me and truly is my therapy.

How I’ve managed to find joy outdoors is actually something I sometimes wonder myself. I currently live in Manchester, New Hampshire, where there is very little diversity. When I started hiking and running, I did it by myself. I never felt completely safe or accepted, but I loved how I felt when on top of a mountain overlooking miles of vastness, or how great I felt after a run, drenched in sweat. That’s what kept me coming back—I ignored the looks, comments, and all the microaggressions I would encounter because my joy was more important.

Since then, I’ve found friends through some incredible local communities, so I rarely, if ever, have to go alone. Now my experience is much different, especially if I’m with a Caucasian friend. I can let my guard down, the comments never happen, and I can handle a dirty look. But it’s also given me a much safer space and environment to be able to enjoy the outdoors without so much negative focus on me being in a space I’m not ‘supposed’ to be.

One of my favorite hikes was a three-day hike in the Andes Mountains in Peru. We had to carry all our gear and food, and I suffered from altitude sickness. However, I persevered. The views were out of this world. I remember feeling so accomplished, but also just an incredible sense of peace.” —Yuma Haidura, an outdoor enthusiast in Manchester, New Hampshire

8. I explored new places with my outdoor time.
“I remember going hiking a few times as a kid, but growing up in New York City, we just didn’t have access to very much nature without renting a car and being super intentional about it. I think not having as much access to it has really made it more special for me.

I definitely hike more as an adult, and it’s something my fiancé and I do together. We truly love the views and the experience of being closer to nature—which still isn’t a huge thing in Chicago, where we live now. However, I’ve noticed that we rarely run into people who look like us. It’s unfortunate that I haven’t seen a lot of Black women exploring the outdoors, which has at times made it hard for me to see myself in that space.

But I’m also a distance runner, and I believe running outside has kept me sane, especially during the pandemic. I’ve found joy in challenging my body and exploring new places. Running is such a fun way to see a new city: You can learn and cover so much ground. I feel like it also really helps you to get your bearings and just feel more at home in a new place.

Whether I’m running, walking, or hiking, it’s time I’m prioritizing for myself or time I’m connecting with someone else, which I really love. Movement is also a great way of processing challenges and grief, so I’ve leaned in hard as I’ve worked through some of those things over the past few years. Running outside allows me to appreciate my freedom, and I find it empowering. –Kira West, a Chicago-based fitness influencer and marathoner

9. I created an attainable space for Black people to have fun in nature.
“My husband, Claude, and I started Abundant Life Adventure Club four years ago. We didn’t grow up doing a lot of outdoor activities, but decided to start hiking waterfalls near where we live in Nashville. We immediately loved it. But as we started going to different parks, we noticed we didn’t see a lot of Black people in these places hiking or kayaking. We felt strongly that if outdoor activities like these were presented to our community in a way that seemed attainable, welcoming, and fun that people would gravitate to it—and that’s exactly what happened.

We started inviting other people on our outdoor adventures, which grew from just our family to a local meetup group to a travel company. We offer ‘microadventures,’ which are half-day activities that don’t require people to travel hundreds of miles or take time off work. These activities are not super strenuous: We want to be inviting to people of a variety of activity levels while also providing an activity that is enjoyable, fun, and impactful. We want it to be a part of people’s lifestyle, something you do very frequently and as a routine for self-care.

We currently have a monthly adventure series called ‘Black Joy in Nature.’ When we go outside, we’re overhearing this joyful sentiment from people within our community when they get outdoors with like-minded people in nature. It’s so important that we have these moments where we’re intentional, and being outdoors and in community is just an excellent way to take care of ourselves, connect with one another, and get all the benefits that come with being outdoors for your mind, body, and spirit.” —Kim Walker, cofounder of Abundant Life Adventure Club

10. I built a community where others can find support to reach their goals.
“In 2011, my friend and I launched City Fit Girls (which recently rebranded as Strides to be more accessible regarding gender identity) to help everyone, especially Black and brown people, pursue sustainable fitness. We started hosting free to low-cost boot camps across the city of Philadelphia. Then we got into running, and launched a run club in 2016 when we realized a lot of people who looked like us didn’t know where to start. We’ve spent the last 10 years introducing the people in our community to running, teaching them how to build up to their first mile, half marathon, or marathon, and helping them encourage their own friends and family to get started.

I’ve been able to find joy in my own outdoor health and fitness journey thanks to this community I’ve found and built. When you’re trying to reach your goals, you’re always focused on what you can do as an individual. It can feel lonely. Strides has been integral in providing a community to lean on when I didn’t feel like working out or the times when I didn’t feel like a studio or group activity was for me (because I didn’t see people who looked like me from a body-size perspective or race perspective). I knew I could find someone to join me or help me with a recommendation for another activity where I would feel safer and more comfortable.

Having these communities has made participating in fitness, running, and being outdoors fun, and it’s helped with accountability and making it more enjoyable. As adults, we can feel like we’re too old to make new friends, but you’re never too old to do so.”—Kiera Smalls, executive director of the Running Industry Diversity Coalition and co-founder of Strides

11. I challenged myself to reframe my thinking in the outdoors.
“Growing up as an Afro-Latinx person from New York City and New Jersey, ‘the outdoors’ meant going to play in concrete parks where you were lucky if they had functioning swings and slides that weren’t broken.

Now as an adult, I’ve learned that running, getting on a bike, or going for a walk help me clear my mind. But these activities do more than that: They also bring me joy and push me to challenge my physical and mental capacity to reframe how I’m thinking about things, how I’m seeing things, and how I feel about myself as a whole. Being able to get outdoors for a walk, bike ride, or even just sit under a tree has been extremely therapeutic over the last few years, particularly after going through a divorce during the COVID-19 pandemic and after my mom had a heart attack.

Often, I am one of the few—if not the only—minorities in outdoor spaces I occupy. Representation matters everywhere, especially for younger generations who need to see themselves out there. At the same time, there are other things for us to consider when doing these things, like the fears related to your emotional and physical safety. I’ve asked myself, ‘How are these things going to play out? Do I need to minimize who I am? Can I really show up authentically as myself?’ There is power in the outdoors and in movement; however, there is also the privilege of speaking the language, having the time, funds, connections, and so much more that so many don’t have. ” —Adalgisa “Lisa” Rivera, a runner and pacer for Harlem Run in New York City

12. I used my outdoor running as the foundation for something larger.
“In pre-pandemic times, I associated the ‘joy’ of running with achieving my racing goals: getting a personal best, qualifying for Boston, etc. When races got canceled, I still trained as if they were on, even though the joy of chasing a goal was missing.

I didn’t find a similar feeling of joy in running until I saw runner and social justice activist Jordan Marie Daniel on the cover of Runner’s World magazine in the fall of 2020. I was overjoyed to see a woman of color on the cover. Meeting her shortly thereafter made me realize that you can use running as a platform for social change. It could be a means for the equality you want to see.

I threw myself into advocacy work with my running, speaking up on the lack of diversity and inclusion in running, races, and the outdoors and on ways to incorporate more Black, Indigenous, and people of color into our sport. Being a part of organizations with similar missions, such as the Running Industry Diversity Coalition, Oiselle Volée, and Bras For Girls, also helped. Though my roles differ with each organization, my running has taken on a larger meaning. Rediscovering the joy in running and outdoors was made possible by connecting to mentors and organizations making the space more accessible and inclusive.” —Jinghuan Liu Tervalon, a writer and runner in Altadena, California

13. I wanted to celebrate and inspire the Latino running community.
“I grew up in South Florida, where I ran track in high school, though I didn’t have much guidance on how to train properly. I didn’t pick back up with running until I was in my 30s and living in New York City.

I started the Latinos Run Club in 2016 because, though I noticed that there were other Latino runners out there, there weren’t any existing clubs or teams encouraging or promoting Latino representation within the sport. My goal was to inspire runners of all levels to celebrate the diversity of the Latino community, which has largely been ignored within the health, fitness, and running industries. Getting the club going was initially challenging because people, even fellow Latinos themselves, were still feeding into stereotypes about how Latinos don’t run or exercise.

I created the sister club Latinas Run in 2016 after getting feedback from women wanting a safe space to run together and have intimate and personal conversations. Combined, the clubs have since grown to more than 25,000 community members, with local chapters hosting races, social runs, and events in more than 40 U.S. cities. I, along with our members, have found joy in running thanks to the social connections these groups have fostered, even online through our social media platforms, which were instrumental in helping people maintain a sense of community during the COVID-19 pandemic.” –Maria Solis Belizaire, founder, Latinos Run and Latinas Run

14. I let the outdoors define who I really am.
“For me, the outdoors really brought me back to finding acceptance with my culture. I grew up in very white environments, and I tried so hard to be less Asian and whitewash myself as much as possible. I surrounded myself with people who did not look like me at all in the hopes that their whiteness would rub off on me. When I started going outside more, I began meeting more people of color, specifically Vietnamese people, who helped spark the fire about learning where I came from, my parents’ stories, and my grandparents’ stories.

For a long time, my parents didn’t understand why I enjoyed camping, hiking, and climbing so much. They worked really hard to make sure that my siblings and I were comfortable and set up to be successful in their eyes. Sleeping in the dirt is not something that they associated with success, as they came from backgrounds where they didn’t have much.

Outside can be lots of things. It can be a short walk with lots of snacks. It can be just taking a nap in the dirt. It can also be sufferfests and trying really hard. It can be anything that makes me happy or proud. Through the outdoors I’ve really had the opportunity to define who I am and how I want to show up outside and to others. Growing up where I was constantly compared to everyone around me, the outdoors helped me to be comfortable in my own skin and not worry about what I’m doing. —Paulina Dao, an adventure photographer, climber, and founder of Bay Area Outdoor Women

Responses have been edited for length and clarity.

Written by Emilia Benton for SELF Magazine.