Huffhike

As I sit here writing this, I find myself reflective and a bit nervous. Since I graduated from college 4 years ago, I have worked for the same company; Research Results. The work can be a bit monotonous at times but my coworkers, upper management, and the company culture have been unmatched. I can truly say that during my time there, I have never considered looking elsewhere, solely because I love my coworkers and the culture.

​But on Tuesday I will be sending my upper management an email to ask for a meeting. I need to tell them that on April 20th, I will attempt a thru-hike of the Appalachian Trail. This decision will absolutely impact my long-term future with the company.

​I’ve wanted to hike the AT for as long as I can remember. Even if I didn’t finish, having the courage to pause life to chase your personal legend itself is honorable in its own regard. Back in college, I told myself I’d do it after I graduated from college. Then I started to work, and I told myself I’d do it after I settled down and bought a house. But the truth and reality of life is that I may never meet my person, and I may never be able to afford a house. And frankly, life is incredibly fragile. I could die at any moment, like everyone else who inhabits this rock.

This thought has been very present in the past few months. Recently, I have found myself in therapy. In some of these sessions, I have discussed with my therapist why I feel so driven now to attempt this hike now and not previously.

After analyzing so many different aspects of my past, I realized that many of my major life decisions were based on what I perceived as the “smartest” decision. Go to an affordable school to save money. Live at home to save money. Work, save, repeat. I used to think that I did all this because of some expectation from society, which I’m sure is part of it. But through therapy, I pieced together that part of me made these decisions because I didn’t trust myself. Community college was financially smart,  but it was also safe. Living at home has been financially smart, but again, it was safe. 

That lack of faith in myself had seeped into everything at one point in my life. But the truth is, I control my own thoughts. I’ve been my biggest enemy for years, and I chose not to trust myself. But the beautiful thing about humans is that we can change our habits and we can change our mindset at any moment. Choosing the AT over my career is extremely risky. I am risking my income, health insurance, stability, and maybe setting myself back a few years. To be honest, that scares me to my core. But that is okay, this is my personal legend, and I need to trust myself.

For so long, there was always something in the way of me chasing the AT. But this year it seemed the universe was providing me sign after sign that I needed to pursue the trail.​

As it says in the Alchemist

“When a person really desires something, all the universe conspires to help that person realize that dream” -Paulo Coelho.

The first sign came in the early days of spring on the New England Trail. I ran into a thru-hiker at the Richardson-Zlogar shelter. He told me he once stood exactly where I am, working a 9-5, unsure what to do. He said he ended up quitting his job to hike the AT. He told me it was the best decision that he had ever made.

A couple of weeks later, on the  Monadnock Greenway Sunapee trail, I was summiting Mount Monadnock. I met a group of day hikers, and one of the hikers noticed the patches on my pack. After noticing the Long Trail and NET patch, he asked when I was going to do the “big one.” I told him that I was planning on purchasing a house and then doing it later. He told me that he said the same thing at my age. And looking back, he regretted not doing it when he was young and wasn’t “house poor”, as he felt it was now an impossible goal.

One of the biggest signs the universe sent my way was when I went to a forest bathing class in July (look it up before you get judgmental). I met this wicked cool guy who was a member of the Peace Corps, military, and also thru-hiked the AT. I of course started to talk to him about thru-hiking. When I told him my reasons for delaying the AT, health insurance, housing, and any other reason to mask my own self-doubt. He said something that struck me hard:

There will never be a perfect time, and every year you wait, the harder it will become.

Since that conversation in July, I have been pondering this move. Today is the day where I decided that I am going to put total faith in myself and attempt to thru-hike the AT. I don’t know what I’ll be doing or who I’ll be in a year, or where I’ll be, or what I’ll be doing. That unknown is terrifying. But for the first time, I trust myself to figure it out.

And if I don’t figure it out?

That’s okay too.