Started at the Bottom, Now We’re Here
In addition to the other technical questions that folks have been asking me, the bigger question that I keep getting is: why?
Why would you want to do something like this?
To some, this answer is obvious - the thrill of adventure, the solitude in nature, the novelty of trekking a coveted path, the accomplishment of mastering obstacles few even attempt to overcome. To others, it’s not as accessible - why would anyone ever want to sleep on the ground for six months while battling the elements, constantly fighting to ingest enough water and calories to fuel rigorous activity day after day, all alone, while dodging rattlesnakes, swatting mosquitoes away, outsmarting bears, and lancing blisters along the way?
To me, the why has two parts.
Part 1:
The first part is almost laughably simple - I just really love hiking. 🤷🏻♀️
Hiking has consistently been the one physical activity that I genuinely enjoy (every other form of exercise is awful - I do it, because it’s the “right thing to do” or whatever, but I despise literally every single single second of it and I think everyone who touts otherwise is lying and “runners high” is 100% a scam), and also the one general activity I genuinely enjoy doing ALONE.
So good start there, for someone who just signed up to hike solo everyday for a couple thousand miles.
Part 2:
The second part of my “why” is a bit more nuanced, and requires a little backstory.
Out of respect for those involved, I’ll keep the details high-level, but over the course of the last six months, I experienced a few life events that poked holes in the way I view my own identity and self-worth.
The first hole-punch was an evening last fall in which I lost my temper in a really unexpected way, and about which I still feel an incredible amount of shame. There were circumstances leading up to that night that help explain what broke open inside of me, but the damage was still done. Experiencing that emotional explosion, seeing the way I am capable of behaving when pushed to my limit, undid something inside of me - I lost trust in myself and questioned the values by which I thought I lived.
A couple months later, I was laid off. I’ve worked in HR for about a decade now, and I know the script too well in these situations - it’s not personal. But for anyone who finds themselves on the other side of the desk from those empty reassurances, it is always deeply, completely, devastatingly personal. It just is. And I took it harder than most. I was totally unprepared for the identity crisis that would ensue. I had basically never felt that kind of dismissal. I was a straight "A" student, summa cum laude, I won awards, made it into prestigious art shows, was offered pretty much every job I applied for, chosen for special projects, never passed up for a promotion, blah-blah-blah... and had never had any reason to question my dependence on that external validation because there had never before been a deficit. And suddenly, I lost trust in my professional significance (which I now realize had inadvertently become an indication of my entire significance), and I was wrecked.
Finally, shortly after becoming unemployed, I had to make the excruciating decision to part ways with a very close friend. Our relationship had become unhealthy for both of us, and while I knew it was the right thing to create some space and move forward, it was still unimaginably gut wrenching to do so. If you’ve had the terrible misfortune to have suffered through a friend or family “breakup” before, then you know how painful and confusing that kind of heartbreak can be. I lost trust in my own ability to love and be loved.
TL;DR - In the course of six months: I lost trust in my integrity, my inherent value, and the love I bring to the world.
Pretty big bummer.
As I sought to do the things I needed to rediscover myself and rebuild my happiness (think: classic millennial cocktail of talk therapy, nutrition, exercise, meditation, reading, travel, community, etc.), I realized this was my moment to put myself first. Like, really really focus on me - spoiler alert: this is not my top skill. In fact, it was likely the unbalanced way I had been going through life focusing on everything else - the happiness of those around me, the external validation from a successful career, and the satisfaction of “selflessly” carrying the weight of the whole world on my shoulders - that had led to my unraveling in the first place.
It was time for me to show up for myself.
And then, a few weeks ago, it clicked - this hike, this adventure that I had held loosely as a bucket list dream since I first heard my high school art teacher describe the majesty of the John Muir section (shout out to Mr. Gleason 🫶🏻), was the venue I needed. And this was my moment.
On the trail, I’m the only thing I need to care for. In the most beautiful, simple, wonderful way. It’s a place to reset, reconnect with my own needs, with my own body. A place to push myself, treat myself, sit with myself, love myself - at my most basic, paired down, me. No distractions. Just me - discovering, nurturing, carrying, fueling, forgiving, appreciating ME. One very literal step at a time.
So... tomorrow I begin the journey of rediscovering how to live fully, for myself. So I can offer myself fully to the world.