When I stood on the summit of Springer Mountain, in Georgia on March 22, I thought to myself, "This is it. This is the moment where my life changes, in an instant, in ways which I won't understand for months or years to come." It was a powerful moment; how many times in our lives do we fully sense and understand that from that moment forth, everything will absolutely be different and more full of wonder than ever before?
And largely, it seems to be true. As of today, I've walked 1,015 miles, and am in Harper's Ferry, WV, which is widely accepted as the halfway point of the AT. (The engineer in me would like you to know that technically speaking, Harper's Ferry is not the halfway point. The halfway point is at 1,090.5 miles, in Pennsylvania. I would like the engineer in me to go fuck off for a bit.) Walking down in the the village last night I got a bit teary eyed, and thought to myself: "Holy shit (sorry, Mom). I just walked 1,000 miles. I'm halfway done!" I'm amazed at myself- in the past few months, I've accomplished SO MUCH, and learned even more about myself than I had thought possible.
In his blog, my friend Bill Weye was recently discussing something that he'd learned while doing the AT 20 years ago. He wrote: "When I’m back in the real world I’ll be an animal — nothing can stop me after finishing the Trail." Until I saw it in print, I didn't realized that I shared these sentiments, but I do. I mean, I've walked through FOUR states so far. I've walked uphill, and downhill, and then uphill and downhill some more. I've walked until my feet hurt so badly I couldn't sleep at night. I've gone to bed freezing and damp, and have woken up because I was too hot and humid, even when wearing nothing. I've walked in the pouring rain, cowered near the tops of mountains in thunderstorms, watched hail bounce off my bare knees, and coated my boots in mud. I've pulled seven ticks off of me in the last two weeks, three of which were embedded, and one those was in an unmentionable place. I've put up with creepy men, struggled tremendously with the politics of gender out here, and wondered what the hell I'm doing with my life. I've lived out of a backpack for two and a half months. I've gone to bed hungry, and woken up dying for something other than oatmeal on more days than I can count. To summarize: I'm having the time of my life, and I know that to most people, this sounds like hell.
About a week ago Hoop and I were talking about this very thing. He said, "Out here, I accomplish something every single day. What I achieve is meaningful, every single day. When in our lives do we get that level of satisfaction on a daily basis? It's incredible."
YES.
And largely, it seems to be true. As of today, I've walked 1,015 miles, and am in Harper's Ferry, WV, which is widely accepted as the halfway point of the AT. (The engineer in me would like you to know that technically speaking, Harper's Ferry is not the halfway point. The halfway point is at 1,090.5 miles, in Pennsylvania. I would like the engineer in me to go fuck off for a bit.) Walking down in the the village last night I got a bit teary eyed, and thought to myself: "Holy shit (sorry, Mom). I just walked 1,000 miles. I'm halfway done!" I'm amazed at myself- in the past few months, I've accomplished SO MUCH, and learned even more about myself than I had thought possible.
In his blog, my friend Bill Weye was recently discussing something that he'd learned while doing the AT 20 years ago. He wrote: "When I’m back in the real world I’ll be an animal — nothing can stop me after finishing the Trail." Until I saw it in print, I didn't realized that I shared these sentiments, but I do. I mean, I've walked through FOUR states so far. I've walked uphill, and downhill, and then uphill and downhill some more. I've walked until my feet hurt so badly I couldn't sleep at night. I've gone to bed freezing and damp, and have woken up because I was too hot and humid, even when wearing nothing. I've walked in the pouring rain, cowered near the tops of mountains in thunderstorms, watched hail bounce off my bare knees, and coated my boots in mud. I've pulled seven ticks off of me in the last two weeks, three of which were embedded, and one those was in an unmentionable place. I've put up with creepy men, struggled tremendously with the politics of gender out here, and wondered what the hell I'm doing with my life. I've lived out of a backpack for two and a half months. I've gone to bed hungry, and woken up dying for something other than oatmeal on more days than I can count. To summarize: I'm having the time of my life, and I know that to most people, this sounds like hell.
About a week ago Hoop and I were talking about this very thing. He said, "Out here, I accomplish something every single day. What I achieve is meaningful, every single day. When in our lives do we get that level of satisfaction on a daily basis? It's incredible."
YES.
Thanks for the mention, Bree.
ReplyDeleteAnd keep your feet dry! ;)