Date: 2014-04-05
From: campsite sometime after flint shelter

To: Erwin, TN
Miles today: 0.0

I Hurt, part 2Well, I'm not waiting until Damascus to get new shoes, apparently. An increase in blisters parallels my increase in milage. Well, let me qualify that: it's not just blisters. It's all kinds of curious pains and twinges. Most of it I just deal with and find a way to minimize. Things like chafing and shallow blisters are nothing to cry over. They're unpleasant, but easily dealt with once you know what you're doing (I was chafing from hip to knee until I discovered the dual wonders of men's exoficio underwear and body glide). But the deeper hurt needs a little more thought. Sometimes you have to walk on a blister for a few days in order for it to callus over and become tough. It hurts, but it's a tempering process. Also, muscle and joint pain are part of the game. This is physical labor. It's not supposed to be easy. However, learning the limits and knowing when something is run-of-the-mill versus a potentially side-lining problem is excessively difficult. For the past week and a half I have been modestly flying. I say modestly because there are people out here who are actually flying and doing 20+ miles a day with no ill effects. But flying for me is 15+ a day. And it felt great! I had pain, but I was managing it. My blisters from the NOC seemed to be healing and not reforming. And aside from my mini food intake problem during the Smokies I was holding my own. I was pleased as punch. I mean... I was keeping up with some of the real high milers. But, wait... What's that saying about pride going before the fall?Coming out of Hot Springs I had crazy bad town legs (trail term for lazy legs) and a bit of a hangover (tolerance is lowered out here due to constant output of energy ), but I decided to push for a longer day. Stupid, stupid, stupid. 20 miles and 10 pm before I finally pitched my tent and fell into my sleeping bag.Ok. Here's how to identify when you've pushed yourself too fast, too far, too hard: even though you're exhausted and feel sick you're so weary you cannot sleep. I lay there and my entire body was rebelling the world. My muscles in my legs were both leaden and spazzing all at once. And I could feel my heals spike with pain if I allowed them to rest in certain positions. My stomach roiled from eating painkillers on empty an empty stomach. Also, I should mention that there comes a certain kind of fear when you reach for the bottle of ibuprofen or acetaminophen only to realize that you have hit your max on painkillers for the day, but you are still in pain. And that's exactly what happened. My body was crying out and there was nothing to be done. I made a dumb decision and now it was time to pay. No got maybe an hour and a half of sleep. Even so, I still woke up refreshed and ready to go. The only problem was blisters. I could feel them on my heals and beginning on the bottoms of my toes. It was painful to put on my boots. But, even so, felt pretty good. So... I somehow talked myself into pushing two shelters away. 12.7 miles. Not bad at all. Easy day, right?I got there and took off my boots and was greeted a blister that took over half of my left heal. It was a beauty. That should have told me something right there: stop. Slow down. Listen to your body. Mayhaps you should take it easy. But no. Here's the moment that that my stupidity begins to become more apparent. I lanced the thing, ate some dinner and then pressed on for another three and a half miles in my Tevas to a campsite in between shelters. That wasn't so bad, really. I slept well and long and got to enjoy some really great stargazing with Crazy Horse, who showed up last minute with 2 tall boys before sundown. Great night. But then I got up in the morning and can't get my boots on. Pain. I mean mad pain. And the blisters are even bigger. So back go the Tevas and again I begin to tromp uphill. So dumb. I got about 3 miles in and then I step wrong and rolled my ankle. The Tevas had no ankle support and my feet and legs, already tired, were unused to compensating for the lack of high tops. As the ankle rolled one way my knee joint jutted the other and with a curiously loud pop and an exhilaration of shooting pain I found myself on my back, staring up at the sky.After the initial waves subsided I weighed my options. I was still close to 30 miles walking from Erwin, but there was a road less than 2 miles back where I might be able to hitch a lift to the nearest hostel, which was supposed to be a few miles down the road. That was my choice. But I seem to have gotten myself to the wrong road because after I'd limped almost three miles and found nothing an old guy came out onto the stoop of his trailer and asked me "where're you fixin' to?" He had no idea what I was talking about and I had the sinking sensation that that last bad choice to abandon the trail was the last mistake I was ever going to make. I was going to die here and no one was going to find me because they would t know where to look. Just then a guy in one of the most beat up pick up trucks I've ever seen pulled up and asked where he could take me. I could have kissed him. He took me to Erwin for the price of a quarter tank of gas and I am now holed up in yet another questionable hiker hostel. I am going to zero until I heal and then begin the reevaluate my decision making processes. My dad is coming down tomorrow and I think we're going to excursion into Asheville to look into a new pair of shoes. I'm really looking forward to seeing him! I've iced and elevated the knee and ankle all afternoon and it's beginning to look a lot better. It's stiff and will probably remain so for a while, but it is repairable damage. It is not a "trip ender." Man, am I blessed. I need to take this blessing and... Well, walk with it. Very, very carefully. With some moderation, perhaps. I'm learnin'. But, boy, do I hurt. Hoping to be back on the trail on Monday or Tuesday.