Date: 2005-02-20
To: View Entry
Miles today: 0.0

3pm2.20.05Three weeks to the day, and I¢ll be hoistin¢ up the ol¢ pack, humpin¢ over mountains once again. Still haven¢t decided whether I¢ll hit the Approach Trail again this year or not. And, knowing me, the decision won¢t be made until, well, three weeks from today, when Profile and Almanac ask me where I want to be dropped off -- Springer or Amicalola. Ahhh, the sweet luxury of not having to make decisions anymore, or at least, only having to make decisions that aren¢t mentally taxing. Today has not been one of those days. I¢ve been cleaning my apartment, preparing it for pictures and possible viewings, as Dave and Carly begin the search for a new tenant. In the process, I¢ve been mentally cataloguing what goes and what stays. Mentally draining? You bet. Although, I must admit, once I accepted it as a purging and cleansing, it¢s actually become rather intoxicating. Things are departing right and left, mentally being doled out to friends and family. I spent over an hour this morning, sifting through a file drawer of random accumulated papers, and now I can happily say that the recycling bin in satisfyingly full, and the drawer significantly emptier (and tidier). But don¢t fear, there¢ll still be a carload or two of junk to haul back to my parents¢ house in Pennsylvania -- the ever-present repository for stuff that I just can¢t quite bring myself to part w/ yet. But hey, they get to borrow my car for the next six months, so it¢s a far trade-off, right? (This car being the one that they gave to me, when I landed my first ¢real¢ job, conveniently located on the other side of the continent.) Things are winding down so quickly. And yet, I have this sneaking suspicion that the next three weeks are going to progress significantly slower than the speed of light. But at least, all the procrastinating I¢ve performed (deliberately and w/ an ulterior motive, naturally), putting off the little details -- like packing, moving out, final touches on gear acquisition, even beginning to think about mail drops, let alone start packing them -- minor, inconsequential things like that. Nothing like a little well-timed procrastination, letting deadlines lurk ever closer, until they jump at you from around a corner. Well, my plotting has paid off. And now, I¢m swamped. So busy that I don¢t have time to curse the calendar for still being stuck on February. (¢Tho now I feel inclined to say that I¢ve been staring at the same d@mn photo for the past 20 days -- I¢m ready for March¢s.) Too inculcated w/ errands to permit the twiddling of my thumbs in impatience. And my decisions are quickly being relegated to the significance of -- do I cut my hair before I depart, or leave it as is? (Actually, this choice requires a slight degree of mental expenditure -- it¢s kinda nice, being able to pull it back into a ponytail once again; haven¢t been able to for the past year and a half. But, on the other hand, short ¢n spiky is sweet ¢n simple. No muss, no fuss. Drat. Now I have another real decision to make¢¦)On the subject of mental exertion -- I¢ve been spending a lot of time lately, dwelling on my hike. (Huh. Imagine that.) More significantly, dwelling on my fears and insecurities. I just have this underlying disquietude, that I¢m unable to fully dispel, that last year will repeat itself, that my mental demons will catch me once again. Last spring, I adapted readily enough to the physical demands of the trail, with, all things considered, surprisingly few bumps and bruises (and blisters). It was the mental battle that wore me down. And, of course, it looms and lurks in the background as I prepare for this year¢s departure, a hulking shadow in the periphery of my mind¢s eye. Some of it has to do w/ the expectations that I¢ve formed, unconsciously blossoming w/in me, about my hike, about the trail community. It was just so welcoming, and enveloping, and spontaneous, and instantaneous last year. And, I have this completely unreasonable, irrational, unjustifiable fear that it¢s going to be so different this time ¢round. I know it¢s totally crazy and silly and illogical. B/c I¢ve already been embraced and enveloped by the trail community, still three weeks distanced from my hike, already encountered some amazingly awesome people -- I¢ll be stepping off of Springer Mountain w/ one of my dearest friends from last year, Cuppa Joe, at my side. I¢ll soon be able to put some faces to go w/ the humor, wit, and wisdom of Break a Leg and Longhaul and the rest of M Company. And, then there are the other friends from last spring that I hope to encounter further north in my travels -- Jitterbug and Hoover, up in Pennsylvania, and Skirt, somewhere in the Whites. And who knows how many other amigos I¢ll cross paths w/ along the way. So, I know, rationally, that my fears are ungrounded. But, that¢s the thing about fears -- they¢re irrational. Most of the time, I¢m able to keep them silent, but there's still this little red horned creature that sits on my shoulder and whispers in my ear.But, the real, deep, underlying fear I carry is that I¢ll suffer the same mental fatigue that exhausted me last spring. Now, this is really difficult for me, not only to express, but also simply to admit, both to myself personally and then, well, offering it up to public consumption¢¦ I¢ve always been a fiercely private person. Verbalizing and vocalizing my emotions has never come easy to me. So, as I tread this new, unchartered territory, bear that in mind. The following is from a recent e-mail to Longhaul:I think it really helps to share your personal demons. Last year, I tried to bottle them up, and wrestle them on my own, and I think that contributed largely to my getting off trail. Just talking about it w/ other people helps, especially other hikers, b/c the same thoughts that are going through your head are going through everybody else¢s too. It¢s all about finding the courage to vocalize them. It¢s also about recognizing your limits. For me, it¢s definitely more a mental than a physical battle; w/ my proclivity to over-analyze and over-think, well, <>everything, being trapped inside my brain can be a scary prospect. And, last year, as I frequently hiked alone during the day, oftentimes it was just me and my thoughts rattling around. I didn¢t really have a release for all the jumbled and tumbled and confused thoughts and emotions that brewed and perked along all day. Yes, I had my personal journal, but I lacked a sounding board, responses from a different perspective. And since I am such a private person, even w/ my newfound dalliance in extrovertedness, I was hesitant to share my doubts and mental warrings w/ anyone else. Instead, I attempted to contain it all inside me, and battle my demons internally. Which only led to a lot of unhappiness and heartache. Not b/c I didn¢t finish the trail, but b/c I allowed myself to lose sight of why I was out there in the first place, and b/c I allowed myself to become mired down in this mental bog. Hence, the different approach this year. I¢m hoping that maintaining an online journal, as I hike, will provide me w/ that very sounding board I lacked, w/o consciously recognizing it was lacking, last year. Is it scary, for me to be opening myself up, exposing myself to all and sundry. Hell yeah. But, life isn¢t about taking the safe and easy course. Sometimes you have to dive off of the established path, into the overgrown undergrowth. And, there may be a few brambles that snag you on the way, but a few scratches are well worth the endless possibilities your exploration may unearth.