How can you mend a broken heart?


“Fuck you, Baden-Powell, you piece of shit mountain,” Roei swore.

“How many times did you think you were going to die?” I answered solemnly.

“Just once,” he replied, equally solemn. «I hate it.»

The snowstorm had left the mountain almost unnavigable; the only hint of a trail were the footsteps of the brave hikers who preceded us. Sometimes those steps went in different directions. Sometimes after looking at a sign, FarOut, and my own intuition, I was still going the wrong way. Sometimes I found myself scrambling through the snow to find the trail again. And once, my feet slipped; I tried not to panic, but death was coming. Luckily, I managed to grab onto a young pine tree, the only thing keeping my ass from sliding down that shitty mountain.

I started crying out of frustration as I got lost for the billionth time. Then I told myself I shouldn’t be a baby and instead cried over my broken heart.

Of course, I was heartbroken in the traditional sense. But the next day, as I entered another section of trail that no longer existed due to a flooded creek, I realized I was heartbroken in more ways than one. This was supposed to be fun and it wasn’t. I was heartbroken by this trail that I thought I would love… And I just don’t.

I knew things were getting dark when the Commissioner, a friend from the AT, made me visualize myself falling and breaking my ankle in the middle of a normal day of hiking.

«How do you feel?» she asked.

“Relieved,” I responded.

The way I see it, I had two options. Give up or heal. I still haven’t learned to let it go, so I had no choice but to get my shit together.

Step One: Fix Your Attitude Problem

The first thing I tried was a form of positive meditation. As I walked, I listed all the things I liked about the PCT. This didn’t go as well as I expected, as my thinking normally went something like this:

Well, I’m finding interesting people to go hiking with… But I miss my friends at home.

The only asset that couldn’t be discussed were the stars. But were the stars reason enough to stay? Suffer?

Step two: eat your feelings

My next strategy was to change my diet. In a devastating turn of events, I was now fed up with protein bars, a staple of my diet. I even had to swallow Snickers. So I allowed myself a barrier-free replenishment. I bought peach and toasted almond rings, beef jerky, and ingredients to make little salami and mozzarella sandwiches. Every time I took a bite of one of those sandwiches, I moaned with pleasure.

Step Three: Treat Yourself

Then, I tried platinum. I walked four miles and then hitchhiked to Acton, where I got to camp for free at the 49er Saloon and eat fantastic shawarma from the Original Acton Market. The next day, I walked ten miles to Agua Dulce, where I ate amazing tacos from Sweetwater Market and drank too many beers at the karaoke night next door, singing Britney Spears and a rock ballad to the delight of locals and hikers alike. Up and ready to walk before 7 the next morning, I ran 24 miles to the barbecue restaurant in Green Valley, arriving just in time to leave my bag of food untouched once again. I was starting to feel better.

Step Four: Do what you do best

The best I felt on the PCT was race day. It was an easy 75 degrees, warm enough that I was constantly checking my watch to see if I was allowed to drink water anymore. There were shady nooks on the ridge, but I didn’t stop long to rest. I just zoomed in. I walked as fast as I could for ten hours straight and was flying high. Endorphins are an incredible drug.

I thought I could keep running for a while and let those good feelings take me to the Sierras. But then I woke up, at four in the morning, in the desert, with raindrops on my face.

Oh no.

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