The Doldrums
I got a ride home from Marion with an excellent shuttle driver named Bryan. He was driving an old Civic with 216,000 miles on it and said he wanted to drive it to the moon, 239,000 miles. The custom Star Trek decals made me smile.
On the same day I visited a walk-in orthopedic clinic. The PA looked at an x-ray, prodded my knee for a bit, and concluded that my condition is reactive synovitis from rolling my knee in the mud. It may take weeks of rest to recover enough to hike again.
It turns out that not hiking is harder than hiking. On the trail I know exactly what I'm doing every day. Every moment of daylight is precious and none of it is wasted. Any free time is spent in good company, surrounded by natural beauty. Every day is hard, every day is worth it.
Being at home, still on vacation from work, and waiting for my knee to recover is mentally the hardest part of my thru hike so far. I started this trip to escape a holding pattern, and now I'm in an even more expansive one. Decades old fears and insecurities fill the dead air. Are my friends ok? Will they still accept me after so many days and miles apart? Will I physically be able to complete my thru hike?
It would be sad to have lived so long without developing strategies to deal with these invasive thoughts, so I have put myself to work.
My highest priority is recovering and getting back on the trail. I have come up with a set of naturally anti-inflammatory foods and supplements to consume daily. I have stretches and calisthenics routines for physical therapy. I have started sleeping with an extra pillow to keep my knees elevated and comfortable.
Second priority is improving my quality of life while on the trail. I am making equipment changes to reduce carry weight while hiking in the summer. I have researched relaxation techniques to improve my sleep, notably the 4-7-8 technique. I will be adding more musical instruments to my repertoire. I'm taking the time to clean and refresh some of my gear.
I'm still in the valleys and surrounded by beauty at home, so I've set up a hammock tent on the back patio to relax in during the day, and maybe at night.
Further activities will include learning songs and recording music, visiting with friends, and working on this blog. I still need to write up Grayson Highlands, finish some trail song verses, and maybe publish some more detailed walkthroughs.
Finally, chatting with Laura, who is also in the post-trail doldrums, has been an excellent support.
When I got home I barely remembered how to function. I didn't remember what I used to eat. I didn't want to kill time in the same old ways. I feel intense grief and joy from listening to songs that help me process the baggage of this chapter of my life. I feel ready to confront the problems I've been avoiding.
All this from hiking the first 534 miles of the trail, just shy of 25%. What will it be like when I'm finished?
