Report from the depths of Virginia sadness

I knew the Virginia Blues were a possibility. I read Appalachian Trials! I knew that once you get to Virginia, the magic of the trail wears off, you get used to life on the trail and don’t change states for over a month, so it’s harder to get dopamine. But how prepared can you be, even if you know it’s coming?

I am writing a blog in the midst of my sadness and hope to continue later when I am no longer there.

How Virginia’s sadness feels in me

• I’m sick of life on the trails. I don’t want to eat this food, sleep in my bag, or walk around all day anymore.






• I miss my partner, dog, family and friends.






• I’m tired of being tired and hurting all the time. My knees, ankles, and feet hurt every day, sometimes to the point where I have trouble sleeping.






• It’s been raining for a week. Everything is wet and disgusting and I’m constantly cold.






• I feel tired, sad, uncomfortable and angry.






• I want to leave the road and go home.

How do we get here?

It’s been over 2 months and I think the cost of the road is getting worse. I’ve never done anything so physically challenging… ever. My body is feeling it. I had a couple of days doing more miles than normal, arriving at camp after dark, and I think that extra effort also exhausted me.

The mental toll is also getting worse. That’s a long time to be this uncomfortable, even when I’m doing my best to handle things. I miss my loved ones. I also just read a Trek blogger’s post about the rocks, narrow ledges, and heights to come and I don’t want to control the fear that comes with those upcoming adventures.

How am I coping

• Mindfulness, presence and positive attitude. I can be where my feet are, appreciate that I’m living my dream, enjoy the scenery and the physical challenge, and choose to have a good day.






• Fewer miles. I reduced my daily mileage a little, which means a slower pace and more rest.






• Radical acceptance and strategy. At this rate, you may not finish the tour before the deadline. Maybe I’ll skip a section in the future or relax a little. My walk will look different than I thought.






• A zero. I took a full day to do zero miles to rest a little more and get out of this rain.






• Feeling my feelings. Allowing them to flow through me. Crying on the phone to my partner. Asking for support.






• Distraction. Downloaded Netflix audiobooks, podcasts, music, and comedies.






• Ibuprofen before bed.

Wanting to quit smoking doesn’t mean I will.

This sucks! This difficult thing is getting difficult! But I know I have the skills to weather this storm (thanks for many years of therapy). I know I have to go through it in order to reap the fruits of growth and strength.

This is difficult. If you feel this is difficult, you are not alone.

So here I am, inexplicably watching Aladdin with kids and adults in a living room in rural Virginia, doing the best I can.

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