It’s three months to the day since I got back from the Appalachian Trail and started back at work in the real world. That was November 8, and now it’s February 8th. I’m still on the fence as to whether or not I’m planning on making my third attempt at the world record for self supported hike.
I want to justify going again because I had a three year plan. Why quit now? I’ve only completed two. Nobody wins a world record their first, sometimes their second, or third attempts, and I’m not one to back down from challenges. I guess I’m stubborn. I have two years of training and money and time invested. I also feel like if I give up, what the hell was all that effort for? I don’t want to be that 80 year old woman who said she tried the impossible and gave up right when she was about to turn a corner. Now I have the maps, the apps, the training, the experience, the gear. After two failed and half witted attempts, I’m more knowledgeable, and better prepared than ever. How could I not be?
Then there is the reality of my poor strategy and all the time I mentally crumbled out there. I learned so much every time I went, but maybe I’m getting too old for this sort of thing. Maybe I just don’t have what it takes to stay on track. Maybe I’m just not physically strong enough. Maybe I never was. Maybe I’m fooling myself. It feels like crap to have everyone I know backing me up and cheering me on, just to come home with my tail between my legs, twice. A third time is really going to sting.
There is a huge part of me saying there’s no way in hell I’m cut out for this record. My number last year was pretty much pathetic. Yet, I knew I’d have to hike the whole trail at least once before I could possibly make any serious attempt due to the many surprises one encounters on an adventure such as this, and now I have. There isn’t one part of this trail I haven’t seen. I have a better understanding of the time of year I should go, where supply is plentiful, where I can and can’t charge my electricals, where the hot showers are, and how little I can get away with hoisting upon my back at any given time without risking health, happiness, or speed.
It is near impossible to predict weather no matter what time of year I go. It’s seems I always get slammed with unexpected temperatures high and low, or intense amounts of rain, threats of snow or ice. I get sidetracked by “whoops” moments that cost time and cause me to expel excess energy for no reason what so ever. I hem and haw once I’ve had a shower and it dawns on me I have to go back out there and stew in my own filth for an unknown amount of time before the next one. Plus, for God’s sake, so much of this is just about luck, proper execution at the proper time, making all the right decisions, flawlessly. That’s a tall order when you strike out against Mother Nature and yourself. You never know what she’s going to deliver, or how you’ll perform. You just pray for the best case scenario and to not get lost along the way.
At the same time, I’m acutely aware I’m attempting to compete against many people who train at elevation, a luxury I don’t have, leaving me handicapped coming from Florida. They literally metabolize oxygen differently than I do. They are running like Kenyans compared to me. To feel the confidence I would have liked on a third attempt, I would had to have been at least somewhat close to the time I was reaching for, 54 days. I was nowhere in the ballpark. I’d have to pick up my pace and be more than twice as fast. I may be asking my body to do the impossible. I’m not 25, not 35. I’m 45, soon to be 46. Recovery sucks on old bones such as these.
In fact, my health just generally sucks right now. I thought it would be good to give myself a couple months off from training and let my body heal, let life happen, but now I just feel fat and tired. In fact an entire additional month has passed by with me just being lazy. At this point I’m completely out of shape. The idea of hitting the gym and streets at 4AM for the brutal training schedule I once kept seems like a feat for giants. I’m not thrilled by the idea in the slightest, and have no idea how to get myself motivated again. I’m immersed in junk food, toxic stimuli, stressed out, bad sleeping patterns, bad habits sort of living. It’s nauseating. I look in the mirror and ask myself how I got here. My physique is completely not where I want or would need. If I do this again, it’s going to be a long, grueling struggle to get back to where I was. I feel like a blob. How the hell am I going to pull this off?
It doesn’t help that the support systems I had are starting to loose their luster. My boss isn’t exactly thrilled I would be gone yet again for months. My financial backers are probably a little less excited to back me, and my friends don’t treat my efforts with as much seriousness any more. Mentors tell me to give up the nonsense and start focusing on improving other areas of my life. I can’t say I blame anyone. I didn’t exactly reach my goal, again, and at this point it’s not looking good, but if world records were easy to achieve, everybody would have one. The way I see it, I knew when I got into this it may take years of attempts, and not everyone would understand what I was up against. I look to the world record held by Diana Nyad for swimming between Cuba and Florida. She made a ton of mistakes, learned to overcome them, but kept going. She analyzed her performance, made the necessary changes, and still faced new challenges with each attempt. She didn’t finally pull it off until she was 64 and five attempts in. I don’t think the average person appreciates what needs to be put into pulling a record off. It takes total dedication, but do I possess that gift? Do I have the ability to analyze myself properly and distinguish between whether or not I’m just being stubborn and not letting go of an impossible dream, or am I being strong and holding true to my desires? Who am I? What makes me think I’m on the right track? Because I’ll tell you what, nothing leaves your life suspended in mid air like attempting the impossible. I literally can’t move forward with the rest of my life. All my money, my time, my everything goes into this. So, I guess the question is am I really all in, or not? If I am, all other things in my life will continue to coast on autopilot until I finally get beat up enough to say it’s over, or win. Or do I put this behind me, and work on improving my current status and start thinking more about ways to secure my future, stop chasing dragons, this drug, hiking.
I literally hate giving up. I’ve stayed in hopeless situations before, and lost everything because I was too stubborn to just walk away. Is this another one of those moments? Or is this my calling? I’ll tell you what, nothing makes me feel more normal, more alive, than this quest. To give up and allow myself to be assimilated into the real world makes me shudder. Hiking isn’t an option, it’s a lifestyle. It’s my life. What am I without my wanderlust and competitive edge?
