Date: 2010-07-25
To: Home- Conclusions and Reflections
Miles today: 0.0

Almost two weeks have passed since I cried like a baby at Katahdin. I am sitting now at home, in front of my computer, overlooking the Galilee landscape from my living room window and it is extremely difficult still for me to grasp what I have just accomplished.Although I am back in Israel, my mind is still very high atop a ridge, overlooking the endless woods, with my ears open to the different noises, my eyes searching for the perfect spring to get the coldest water and calculating repeatedly how much food I can spare today.Most of all I miss the victorious sensation I experienced everyday as I finally unwrapped my mat to get some sleep. The daily challenges were confronted, achieved and I was victorious. I won; I earned my 6 hours of sleep! I had succeeded in confronting the trail, managing to convince her to let me pass and even enjoy the effort... even if it was always an endless effort that took every drop of energy from my body and soul, day after day for 65 full days.I was wholeheartedly dedicated to this mission. Nothing took importance over the aim of gaining the greatest possible mileage within every 24 hours. Thirst, hunger, exhaustion and pain were side effects. They were superficial. The AT was this huge monster waiting to be tamed. I was like a rodeo cowboy sitting on a bull.I found the AT to be very much more difficult and harsher than I had expected. I understood this already in Georgia. If the truth were told, as early as the climb from Amicalola Park to Springer Mountain, I knew I was playing with fire and I would have to control this fire on my own.The Georgia woodlands were frightening for a fortnight. However after my first F2F meeting with a surprised bear, some lazy snakes and the never ending rows of insects that kept walking across my body as I slept outside with no tent except for a tiny poncho tarp, I understood the futility of fighting nature and the only way to accommodate it is by becoming part of it.I thoroughly enjoyed the forests and woodlands, the solitude and the surprises after every curve, the springs and creeks that crisscrossed the trails, the cool, even if sometimes frightening shade. It was exhilarating to awaken in the early mist and darkness before the sun had time to rise. I enjoyed the fact that I had become part of all this and very quickly left behind most of my previous ¢civilized behavior¢ to become a modern ¢Robinson Crusoe¢.I understood that all of us could change and adapt to every scenario. We were not at all rotten to the core. It was fascinating to wake up every day without knowing what to expect. After a week or so, I stopped reading my planned schedule. I became ¢high¢ on not knowing what the day would bring, so each day was full of surprises. True...some days I went to sleep thirsty and hungry because of a lack of water or I neglected read the caution signs concerning some of the dry ridges but this only added, ¢spice to the pot¢.I tell everybody it was not a ride; it was about driving. I was not driving a car rather I drove my body; much the same way I drove my jeep through the Negev desert. I tried to keep the engine's (my heart) RPM running at a constant rate (144-150 beats per minute). This was by playing with the gears, high, low and 4X4 (smaller but faster steps in the hard climbs). I tried not to stop and mostly ate something while on the run. I learned the hard way that sometimes can take more than an hour to "recover" from a 10-minute rest.Time passed by incredibly fast. Usually I first paid attention to the hour at the beginning of each day, around 5 AM. I remember looking daily at the watch at around 1 PM to calculate how far I had managed by midday and then again around 7 PM when the shadows grew longer and had to reevaluate if I had enough water to get through the night.Time and days lost all significance. I did not notice them much. Most of the time I did not have a clue about the exact date, nor did I care. The only thing of any importance at the time was I, the ¢green tunnel¢ and the latent competition we were having against each other.I feel that I could have keep on going indefinitely. I knew it was ending and dreaded the fact of coming back to ¢normal life¢ because of the painful adaptation period. Exactly what I am experiencing now, but this was known all along so I am trying to be patient and behave myself towards my family, friends and the people at work.Overall, the people whom I met were extremely kind, helpful and full of best wishes. I was pleased that folks appreciated the fact that I came over 7,000 miles from the other side of the world to run the AT. It was a dual honor. I never met so many people so dedicated devoted to nature and its protection.If I could say something to all Americans, you have an incredibly great country, cherish it!!!!I regret somewhat that I did not stop a little longer at some of the more breathtaking locations. I am also in much more pain, or at least feel it more than I did while on the trail, but this in time I know will pass.Otherwise, I try to make my life an interesting ride. I have just had one of the most exhilarating unreal experiences a man could ask for and the elms landscape will be with me forever.Ahhh...the record you ask? Well obviously, it was a bit too big for me but I am not disappointed because I put and gave everything I had. I had nothing more left to give, so I am satisfied indeed, happy and yes, sore.Moreover, I hope I became a better person because of my efforts.