Things Happen For A Reason
Howdy cowboy. I’m about to be 26 years old (and let me tell you, 26 miles on my 26th birthday are not going to happen this year…don’t tell 27 year old me that he might have to have to rip out 27 miles next year). In classic A.J. fashion, here’s a blog post that shares every corner of my brain space as I enter a new age. So my last LONG post from May 8th was spontaneously deleted…bummer. But Things Happen For A Reason. So welcome to my “it’s been a while” thought vomit! For those short on time, this isn’t a quick read. For those short on attention (don’t worry that is me), feel free to see the short version here.
I’m off the trail (again) – this time not for injury sake, but for mental sake. I took the last few days off trail to recalibrate. The short(er) version of this post is on the gram, but the long form is here. Last Tuesday, I got to Paradise Valley Cafe (PVC) - a godsend from above, a gift, an oasis, a milestone of 150 miles crushed. I was feeling great in my body that day. I walked the last 5 miles with Anna - who I met as I was crumbling under the shade of a tree. Walking with her and learning about her journey were invigorating. She was the 3rd only person I hiked with on trail. I told her that I wanted to call it quits that day - or moreover that I was indeed calling it quits that day. I told her that my PCT journey was over. I called my folks and let them know that I was hitting PVC and that I was ready to come home. Anna said, “For what it’s worth, I don’t think you should get off trail. You can do this.” But my mind was made up, I was proud of hitting 150 miles. I sought council from my badassery committee with countless phone calls and they all said the same thing, “A.J. you can do this.” But I didn’t believe that.
Brains can be wicked beasts. The biggest battle I fought on trail wasn’t blisters, or even taking that fall – it was this sweet brain o’ mine. It’s laughable that the thing that gets in my way I can’t even see. Every day I was fighting myself – trying to spark the joy to keep going, trying to keep my mind from falling down the Alice-In-Wonderland-Black-Holes of “what ifs” and anxieties about the world, trying to be proud of what I’m doing, trying to believe I could actually do this. I had ample time to think over the 150 miles because for close to 134 of those miles, I walked alone. I waded through my thoughts, downtrodden by the debilitating doubts of myself. I couldn’t escape myself, even if I was surrounded by sheer shock-and-awe inducing nature.
Around 3:30pm, I left the comforts of PVC and waited across the street with my thumb out, shimmying my body in hopes of looking simultaneous not dangerous, not too large, and like a good person to chat with in a car. Finally, a trail angel stopped and said, “Where ya goin?” to which I told him the Dairy Queen at the end of 371 in Anza. His name was “Grumpy” and he kindly took me down the road to the DQ. I waited for my little brother who graciously picked me up post work and contemplated what I was doing. Walking alone with myself was tough and I was ready to be done, back at home, doing things I knew brought me joy and mental safety. Not knowing where I was going to be every night, not knowing if there was reliable water ahead (even with FarOut), not knowing if I’d be camping alone, or if the shaking in the tree was a Mountain Lion. I doubted my ability to overcome all of this unknown, or to be strong enough to take the brunt of hard days. But I also, wasn’t completely at peace with the notion that I was done with the trail this year.
For those of you who don’t know, I lived, breathed, worked at a Summer Camp and Conference Center as their Assistant Director. It was an on-site 24/7 experience that asked me to be wholly physically, mentally, and emotionally present. I proudly and (as I do) fully committed myself to this role. Some of my highest highs and some of my lowest lows were felt during those two years. I met some of the best people whose personhood I will have ever had the honor of having grace my life. That all being said, I left that role in search of adventure, and a break of being somewhere 24/7. I expected the trail to be a respite - a break from reality. Every blog post, every video, every anecdote told me this trail was a ‘pause in life’. When you finished your hike, everything you were wondering before would still be waiting for you. But for me, those wonders were with me daily, hourly, by the minute. For lack of foresight, the trail is 24/7. It begs of you to be wholly physically, mentally, and emotionally present. I told myself that my giving battery was on empty and I couldn’t be all the way present on trail.
I told myself all the reasons I couldn’t do the trail – yet everyone I called told me reasons I could do the trail. I failed to tell myself that I was capable. I failed to tell myself that I was okay. I failed to tell myself that I am stronger than I know. These last few days I beat myself up, I was anxious, I was proud. I was surrounded by a family who only ever has given me grace throughout this process and who wishes me only safety and happiness. I have been galvanized by a crew of superhero friends who told me the things I couldn’t bring myself to understand about my ability to do this. Truth be told, I don’t know how I got so lucky to have friends and family who lift me up when I’m (enter gen z slang) down so f#*king bad. To every single one of you – I say thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you. There’s not enough space to adequately share that sentiment.
So what’s on the horizon A.J.? Great a$$ question partner. Let’s start with where I’ve been. I’ve been at home. I got to celebrate my mom’s and my birthday a few days early! I was cooking, playing guitar, reading, and consuming content. My algorithm has been in its motivation era. Let me share a few moments with you:
Strava: UglyBoysRunningClub shared a post in their Strava group. Here’s my favorite sentiment, “We have to remember that running is supposed to be FUN, or at the very least, not contribute to cycles of self-loathing. … When we take ourselves less seriously, we lower the bar and reduce intimidation in the culture.“ Replace running with whatever activity you please. Read it here.
YouTube: Megan Batoon, one of the OG YouTube vloggers in my book, shared this sentiment in one of her latest videos, “Finishing something is not the only time you can celebrate.“ This video isn’t the most relatable thing if you don’t follow Megan, but here it is nonetheless (link is timestamped to that quote).
Instagram: Watch this reel. If it’s the only link you click, let it be this one.
???: I don’t know how I was served this article from The Miami University at Oxford, Ohio titled, “Start acting like a kid again“. The best part of this read was, “Let me walk across this log without shoes on, balancing above the water. Let me learn about this bug and that tree. There are so many different trees. How did they all get here? I want to spend time with my friends. We can laugh together at the smallest things, without a care in the world. The sun will rise again tomorrow, and I can do it all over again.”
For the next few days, my plan is to intercept some segment of ‘the bubble’. ‘The bubble’ is somewhat of a hiker term you can probably guess the definition of, but if you’re curious it’s just where a majority of the hikers are along the trail. I’ve been following PCT Facebook groups, the #PCT2024 Instagram tag, and looking at FarOut to try to guess where folks might be. I’d love to be absorbed by a semblance of a tramily (aka trail family aka group of hikers who hike together). I can only hope that I find folks who are down to clown and walk with me. In the coming days of hiking I want to lead every step with positivity, stoke, and resilience and I want to wear a lens of childlike wonder. I am committing myself to giving myself even a fraction of the belief that others have for me. I’m on this #LifeLongLearning train and am striving to be a better human each day.
From a trail perspective, this isn’t going to be your typical “thru” hike, skipping ahead has a number of connotations in the thru hiking world. I’m sure that at the end of my journey, if I’m at the border, I’ll come back and eat the miles I’ve skipped to say that I hiked all the miles I could this thru-hiking season. But what I do know is, regardless of what the technical term is of a thru hike, I’m proud of my thru attempt. Every day should be a reason to celebrate, and for that reason, I am gonna swap my “thought of the day” on my IG posts to “win of the day”. For my blog readers, my WOTD is that my freggs (aka fried eggs) this morning came out perfectly cooked. Per the title, I am also trying to believe Things Happen For A Reason. What will these breaks off trail tell me. What will the return(s) to trail tell me? That’s for the universe to know, and for me to find out. Things Do (Seem) To Happen For A Reason.
i am about to be 26 and I’m trying to figure out life one step at a time - to quote that reel, I’m about to be 26 who is trying to “live today and [trying to] connect the dots tomorrow.” To all who have been following, to those special humans who are taking my calls from the trail, to my family: thank you, thank you, thank you. From the bottom of my heart, I feel it and appreciate it. Happy trails.