What no one tells you about extreme hiking

In 2025, I walked 10,070 miles.

I started January 1st in Key West, Florida. The original plan was to complete a border-to-border calendar-year Triple Crown: hike from Key West to the Appalachian Trail, mark the Canadian border, and then continue along the Pacific Crest Trail and Continental Divide Trail.

In recent years, it has become increasingly common for hikers to attempt one or even two Triple Crown trails in a single year. As people continue to push their limits, I wanted to share some tips on how I managed to walk 10,000 miles in one year and how you can achieve massive endurance goals like this for yourself.

Normally, if someone asks me how much planning is needed for a hike, I say: Prepare as little as necessary.

The greater the challenge, the more dangerous over-planning becomes.

When you create a super rigid schedule, every deviation from that plan feels like a failure. But when you set out on a long walk expecting to constantly turn, you’re mentally prepared for things to change.

When I began planning what was originally an 8,400 mile hike, my first thoughts were:

• What sections should I walk at certain times of the year?
• Where will snow become a problem?
• Approximately how many miles per day do I need to average?

That was enough.

Some hikers complete the calendar year’s Triple Crown continuously without jumping. That’s amazing and definitely harder in many ways. But I chose to change sections because snow and weather conditions could drastically slow progress.

Jumping is a waste of time and money, but sometimes it saves energy and prevents you from getting trapped in bad conditions.

If you’re not mentally preparing yourself, you’re not doing yourself any favors.

One of the most important things I did before the hike was visualize a year I spent mostly alone.

Many hikers underestimate the loneliness. They imagine hiking as a constant social experience and do not mentally prepare for isolation.

Before starting, I told myself:

• You’re going to spend most of the year alone.
• You are going to suffer.
• You will walk through rain, sleet, snow, heat and freezing cold.
• You will be wet.
• You will go long periods without showering or doing laundry.
• You will be exhausted.

And honestly? I’m glad I put those thoughts in my head beforehand.

«The sky and the sun are always there. It’s the clouds that come and go.» -Raquel Joyce

When you hike in a time crunch, whether due to a visa, a work deadline, or a big mileage goal, you naturally end up in a much smaller demographic of hikers.

There just aren’t many people walking at that pace.

That doesn’t mean you’ll always be alone. Hikers pursuing similar goals often end up meeting each other. But the healthiest thing you can do is assume that you will spend a lot of time alone.

Ask yourself honestly: “How do I feel about being alone for long periods of time?

Resolve those emotions before hitting the road.

I averaged 27.5 miles per day for the entire year, including every zero day.

A common misconception is that you already need to walk 20 to 30 miles a day before starting a hike.

You don’t.

My biggest advice is simple: stay standing.

If you work a desk job:

• Get a standing desk
• Use a walking pad
• Sit on a yoga ball
• Stay active whenever possible

You don’t need extreme training. You just need consistency.

One of the most important things I did was focus on strengthening known weaknesses.

For me, that meant:

• Ankles
• Hips
• IT band problems
• A previously torn calf muscle

I worked with a physical therapist who understood long-distance walking and developed exercises specifically around the movement patterns of walking.

Every night on the trail, no matter where I was sleeping, I spent time stretching and loosening the areas I stressed repeatedly throughout the day.

That consistency matters.

When I started walking in January, I knew I needed to average about a marathon a day all year long.

But I also knew it from experience:

If you leave too early, you will waste more time later.

I learned this the hard way.

On the 2022 PCT, I injured myself trying to keep up with hikers stronger than me. During my 10,000 mile year, I made the same mistake again by rushing and ignoring what my body was telling me.

Trying to save time ended up costing me weeks of recovery.

All of that could have been avoided if I had simply slowed down and listened.

I was on cloud 9 when I passed the femur stress fracture test during the worst of my hip injury last year.

Things willpower go wrong.

You could get injured. The weather could delay it. Logistics could fail.

The key is to learn not to panic.

I wish when I first got injured I would have just sat down and told myself, «It’s okay. Whatever happens, happens.»

If you need to take a few days off, take them. If you need a week, take a week.

Being patient and adaptable pays off in the long run.

When you’re attempting high mileage goals, time becomes your most valuable resource.

That means:

• Minimize unnecessary time in the city
• Avoid long stops at restaurants
• Schedule replenishments efficiently
• Charge electronics and do laundry overnight when possible.

Whenever I entered the city, my goal was to get in and out as quickly as possible.

Or better yet: end a great day in city ​​so I could do housework overnight and keep moving the next morning.

My first day of Nero on day 36 of CDT

Everyone’s financial situation is different, but my advice is simple: save aggressively.

When I’m not hiking, I typically work 60 hours a week.

I try not to spend money unnecessarily. I avoid expensive habits and focus on saving as much as possible.

If you are planning one or more hikes:

1. Calculate what you think the trip will cost you
2. Then double that number.

You’ll probably need the buffer.

Why would anyone want to walk 10,000 miles in a year?

Honestly, I’m incredibly happy I did it.

Breaking myself down physically and emotionally every day brought everything to the surface. I was exhausted, raw, emotional and completely exposed to myself.

But it also gave me something profound.

There were times throughout the year when I really felt like life was giving me little signs: «You are exactly where you’re supposed to be.»

At the end of the year, I truly believed that anything could happen and I would still find a way to get through it.

That confidence—the belief that you can adapt to whatever comes next—is one of the greatest gifts that long-distance hiking can give you.

Whether you’re hiking: 50 miles, 100 miles, 1,000 miles, or 10,000 miles…the same lessons apply.

Prepare yourself mentally. Prepare yourself physically. Stay adaptable. Listen to your body. Embrace the discomfort. And understand that every obstacle becomes part of the journey.

If you can imagine all the suffering, uncertainty and exhaustion, and still think: «Yes… I want to try that.»

Then it’s probably worth doing.

The above is a transcript. Minor edits have been made for clarity and readability, while preserving the original message and intent. This video is part of a new series about Youtube of the trip. Be sure to check the full videoand subscribe to our YouTube channel.