City Sports 5k

Finding the motivation to run / work out can be tough for me, as it is for almost everyone. I need something tangible to work towards; a hike, a race, etc. I signed up for the City Sports 5k run to benefit the victims of the Boston Marathon bombings, but overwhelming number of people that signed up forced the event to be cancelled for safety reasons. The Spartan Race was a 5k distance, but didn't require running the entire time. I needed something else.

A few weeks ago I got an email from City Sports for an ongoing series of free 5k's and decided, hey, why not? I had made plans to sign up for like five different races with Jaime and never followed through for a variety of reasons, so I asked her to run this one with me.

Reebok One Series Shoe

I felt underprepared. It was only 3 miles, sure, but I hadn't been running on a steady schedule. When I was running I would do about 2 - 2.5 miles before calling it quits. It was only 5 days after my Spartan and my muscles were just back to normal again. My goal was to just run the whole thing, no matter how slow my time was.

This 5k fun run (not race) was a wear-test for the new Reebok One Series shoe. We arrived at the City Sports store on Boylston St., where we had the option to swap out our shoes and wear the Reebok's for the run. Luckily they had my size, so I decided to wear the new shoe. Several people approached me while we hung around the store with the crowd of runners waiting for the run to begin. I was wearing my Spartan headband, partially because I'm a tad bit superstitious and I had a good run at the Spartan and partially because I lost my only other decent headband. It was the best conversation starter short of a cute dog. A handful of people had run the Spartan the same day as I had, and a few were running the Fenway one as well. One of the employees found me for a second time in the crowd. He was muscular, fit, obviously very athletic and strong... and he was nervous about running his first Spartan in November at Fenway. He wanted training tips from me. I tried not to laugh in his face (in a good way), and told him if I could do it then he could ABSOLUTELY do it. It was mildly flattering, though.

The Esplanade

The course was essentially a big rectangle around Back Bay, and I made sure to commit it to memory before we started because I assumed I would not keep up with the faster people (I was correct). One of the designers of the shoe was there and gave us a quick blurb about it, then promised us the best run of our lives. HA, OKAY. The gang of 30ish+ runners (I'm not a great estimator) stayed together for the first mile or so since we kept getting stopped at lights, but once we hit the Esplanade the groups split up. I knew from running at home that if I ran too fast in my first mile that I would burn out, so I was a little concerned when the MapMyRun voice said my split pace was 10:30 at the first mile (a decently quick mile for me). I picked a group ahead of me, decided to keep up with them, and tried to enjoy the run. The Esplanade is quite pretty, after all. By the time we reached the Mass. Ave Bridge I realized I wasn't in the fast group, but I wasn't last. Good enough for me.

Success

I surprised myself by doing a faster second mile, and then an even faster third mile. I attribute that to not getting stopped at any crosswalks, as we had several times in the beginning. If I had to stop at a crosswalk I don't think I would have run the whole thing.

I was curious to see how I would do in a group setting. I seemed to have some source of untapped energy during the Spartan race (adrenaline, I'm sure), and the same happened in this run. I wasn't in a large group, but I didn't want to be the one that stopped to walk. Maybe it's the competitive spirit in me, or maybe I'm vain, but it worked!

It was only a 5k, sure, but it was an accomplishment for me. I achieved my goal of not stopping to walk and I set a personal best. The shoes were great, and I did have my best time for that distance so far. I hesitate to attribute that solely to the shoes, but they certainly didn't hurt!

We grabbed our stuff, I exchanged my shoes, and we were about to head out when I remembered that I had submitted a raffle ticket when we first got there. I was meeting a friend for drinks and food, which I was eager to consume both of, and I've never won a raffle. Just as we were about to leave they announced they would be doing the raffle outside, so I called my friend and told him I would be leaving in a few minutes, ending with "I don't know, I feel lucky today". The first prize was two entry bibs to the Tufts 10k. I looked over at Jaime and said, "If I win this I will be livid. I'll pass." The first name was called, and called again, but no one responded.... so another name was picked. Mine. The first raffle prize I ever win in my 23 years on this planet and it's two entries to a 10k.

Damnit.

Now I have to run a 10k.

Well, guess I have something else to train for. I'm smiling, I swear. 

Purgatory Falls Nature Walk

This past weekend I had plans with Jaime to hike either Pack Monadnock or Mt. Monadnock. She mentioned wanting to "climb a mountain" a few times, and I was excited that she wanted to do something a little out of her comfort zone. The retail world has eaten up my weekends and her office job sucks up her weekdays (as well as her soul), so finding a good time to go had been difficult. I took the weekend off for my Spartan Race and foolishly figured I would be fit to hike the day after the race. Jaime was rightfully skeptical and asked "Are you sure you can hike after that? I feel like you'll be dead". Nahhhhhhh, I'll be fine, I responded with a wave of my hand.

She was right, and not that surprised when I texted her the night before asking if we could take a rain check.

The race left me bit more battered than I thought, but my muscles felt okay in the morning and I had just enough energy to be bored with sitting around. I had a slow start to the morning, but every time I sat down I felt like I was suffering from rigor mortis**.  Common knowledge said let the muscles rest, but I felt like some light activity would be good and preventing me from stiffening up. Thankfully, Jaime was flexible and agreed to come a short jaunt into nature at Purgatory Falls near my house. She was not fond of the name "Purgatory" for anything, and not surprisingly the myth of the area isn't much more upbeat. It goes as such:

Cookin' in the Devil's Beanpot

Once upon a time (don't all myths HAVE to start that way?) the Devil visited Purgatory Falls, where he made his home to watch over the people of Mont Vernon. Being the devious devil he was, he disguised himself and invited the elders of the town over for a bean supper. The elders anxiously awaited while he stirred his beans, and the Devil unknowingly conjured up too much heat and got his foot stuck in the rocks. He swore and grew very frustrated, and the elders soon realized who really was and fled. He left behind the "Devil's Beanpot", a giant hole in the middle of the rock, and the "Devil's Footprint", a 7-foot long human shaped footprint. Side note: for some reason I could not stop laughing at that old-timey man hanging out in the beanpot. I don't know, it's a slow day at work.

The Purgatory Brook Trail is one that I been on many times over the course of my life simply because it's about 5 mintues from my house. The trail is about 3 miles end-to-end, but for whatever reason I've never done a round trip. The past few years I've stuck to the Lower Falls because it's a very short walk from the trail head, but as a kid I often went to the Upper Falls where the Devil's Beanpot and Footprint are. The trail follows the Purgatory Brook and is quite easy to navigate. The ease of the trail attracts many families and can be crowded on nice days. A note on the trail though - I noticed a lot of the blazes are very faded and many of the areas are well traveled enough that the path isn't always that obvious. It is hard to get very lost, though, so even someone with no experience would find their way.

We set out towards the Lower Falls, and I made the mistake of telling Jaime there were a lot of black bears in the area. She was convinced we were doomed. Thankfully, the only wildlife we came across was a small garter snake, which is not high on the list of animals I like to see but is low on the list of animals that could rip my face off.

Taking a dive

The Lower Falls are a short walk into the woods (maybe a 1/2 mile at most). We spent most of our time at the top of the falls enjoying the sun. Everyone clap for Jaime -insert clapping here-, as she successfully navigated some precarious rocks to get to the top of the falls. She had herself convinced that every obstacle (however large or small) that was not flat ground would leave her on her ass with a twisted ankle, but she made it through just fine.

From the Lower Falls we continued on towards the Bridge (as seen above on the map). The trail followed the Brook and had a couple rocky crossings over small streams, but nothing too intense.

The Bridge crosses over the Purgatory Brook and provides for a lovely photo opportunity, as seen of my feet. We certainly had enough time to hike to the other end and come back, but I suddenly realized how hungry and tired I was. I think I spent the whole time on the bridge talking about what kinds of food I wanted to eat. The exhaustion from the race finally caught up to me, the ache in my muscles was starting to grow, and I was ready for a XL sandwich.

We did about 2 miles round trip, but it was a pleasant and easy nature walk. I want to go back soon and do the whole trail!



**Disclaimer: I know I was not ACTUALLY suffering from rigor mortis, as I was not dead. I felt the need to include that since Jaime yelled at me when I said I was going rigor mortis.

Diet Fail

Three days past my deadline of "stop eating and start moving", and I am already failing. Why? Well, here are my excuses.

1. I am terrible at diets.

Or beer.

I'm always someone that says "never go on a diet! You're setting yourself up to fail! Just work on making healthier choices every day!" Then, not long after that, I do not heed my own advice and I do the exact opposite. And I fail.

I try to make healthy choices, but I tend to go through phases. I'll eat really well and exercise a lot for a few weeks, then I'll fall off the wagon and be an obese sloth for a bit. That could be an exaggeration. Making the switch to a healthier lifestyle (like, 90% healthy eating) has been difficult for me... but, who isn't it difficult for? Plus, once I "fall off the wagon" I tend to just throw caution to the wind and shove all of the food down my gullet. "Well, I already failed so why not FAIL HARDER?!"

Dreams really do come true.

2. It is summer.
And all I want to do is float in my raft, the USS Awesomesauce, with some sort of alcoholic beverage in the cup holder. I want to sit next to a lake. I want to sit on a beach. I want to sit in my yard and watch my mom make me giant-ass burgers.

Speaking of giant-ass burgers, not only do I want to sit on my ass next to some body of water but I also want to eat every single typical summer food item possible. It's like I'm coming out of hibernation from what seems like 9 months of New England winter and have finally reached my Utopian paradise filled with fruity drinks, burgers, hot dogs, BBQ, pasta salad, potato salad, lobster, ice cream, margaritas... etc. And I am on a mission to eat all of it. Anyone who has been to King Kone in Merrimack, NH, will know that you must consume as many ice cream cones as you can before summer ends.

Not only am I lazy and preoccupied with shoving my face with summer food, but it has been hot and really fucking humid. I can deal with the heat, no problem. I'm cold unless it's above 85. But the humidity... man. I referred to running through hot clam chowder in my last post, and that weather trend has not let up. Walking to the train in the morning (about 5-7 minutes, downhill) leaves me sweating. Do I have a gym membership? Why, yes, I do. But when I'm sitting in my apartment sweating my ass off just by simply existing the last thing I want to do is pull on some tight spandex and hop on the train to the gym, or, even worse, go outside for a run.

3. I am too focused on the numbers.
I'm up 3 pounds from my average (5 pounds above my lowest), and when people hear me say that they immediately want to punch me in the face. Rightfully so, I suppose. My logical brain knows that three pounds isn't that much (though it's about 2.5% of my body weight), but my illogical brain doesn't like to see the number. My logical brain knows that my BMI and body fat are well within the healthy range, as I had my friend measure me last night, but my illogical brain is still like THREE POUNDS THAT'S WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU SIT ON YOUR ASS. The gain could also be muscle weight. I've been focusing on my upper body  more - I did five REAL pullups, all in a row, last night (oooooooh aaaaaaaaaaah) - and the increase in amount of running/hiking/cycling could definitely build muscle.

Ironically, I tend to ignore the "good" numbers. I started running at the end of January because I was that bored. I didn't really think about how much I would be running, so I picked a random number out of the air and decided "it would be kind of cool if I ran 100 miles in a year". I joined a gym in February, and hit that goal pretty quickly.  I'll recap my "good" numbers in an attempt to make myself feel better about life.

January: 6 miles (I started at the very end of January)
February: 12.23 miles - actually not that bad considering it was like 20 degrees for most of February and I was running outside.
March: 12.25 miles
April: 46.26 miles of running, 1.57 miles of biking
May: 30.1 miles of running
June: 20.33 mile of running, 40.42 mile of biking
** I didn't count hiking miles

So, it's obvious that I've definitely made improvements over the months but even as I was writing I said "damn, I ran HALF as much last month as I did in April." You can see the hotter the month the less I wanted to be inside at the gym or running outside in the humidity.

4. My routine changed.

Drinking on the beach is much more fun than running.

I think April was such a good month for me because I was getting into the swing of things at work, I got through my bout with mono at the end of March, and I had my routine down pat. I was working from 9-2, so I would get out at 2 and go to the gym on my way home. It was a good time frame; not too long after eating that I was starving but not too soon after eating that I was bursting at the seams. My schedule changed for the summer, so now I get out at 4. I was usually starting to get hungry and the gym would fill up with the after-work crowd. I started going home a lot more. I want to park my ass on the beach at every opportunity.

Then my schedule changed even MORE when I got my second job at REI (which I am very, very excited about, but more on that another time). I don't know what my schedule will end up being like, but for the past two days I've come to job # 1 from 11-4, then straight to training sessions until 8:30 or 9. So, either I wake up a few hours earlier and get a workout in or I skip it altogether. I have opted for the latter. The schedule change has meant adjusting my eating schedule, too. I have been hopping around from my apartment, to NH, to friend's places so often that I haven't really gone food shopping in a while, meaning I have no (healthy) food to cook and bring with me to work. Working through lunch and dinner often means eating something small, snacking all day, or waiting until I get home and eating late at night (sooo bad for you).


Well, hopefully once things settle down with my schedule a little more I'll get back into the routine of working out more frequently. If I can find it in myself to stop being a gypsy, or at least being a smarter gypsy, then I can stop eating out all the time and make myself some healthier meals. Let's face it, I'm not reaching my summer goal of hiking Mt. Washington by sitting on my ass eating cupcakes and drinking beer!... that would be nice, though.

The Wapack Trail

I often get crazy ideas, like withdrawing all of my money (I say that like I have any) from the bank and moving to the Bahamas to sell seashell necklaces on the beach. I usually get these ideas when I'm bored, looking at my school loans, unsatisfied with life, or feeling overly ambitious. Unfortunately, I have yet to disappear to a remote island to sell jewelry. Sometimes these crazy ideas do pan out, though, and one of those ideas was to hike the Wapack Trail.

The Wapack Trail was developed in 1923 and is one of the oldest interstate trails in the Northeast. The trail starts in Ashburnham, MA, ends 21.4 miles later in Greenfield, NH, over seven mountains and through several state forests. There are about seven miles of side trails. A volunteer group called Friends of the Wapack maintains the trail, as well as organizes volunteer work days and various hikes (and much more!). Private property owners continue to allow hikers to trek through their land.

I concocted this plan almost immediately after the first time I hiked up Pack Monadnock last summer with two friends and saw the trail marker. My research on the trail quickly led to a moment of self-doubt, followed by bizarre justifications that did not apply to my life. It went something like this:

Ohhhh, 21 miles... that's a lot.
But I've hiked Pack Monadnock, and North Pack Monadnock (the last two of the trail), and I'm pretty confident over those mountains.
But seven mountains... damn.
But they're not that high.
BUT, 21 MILES.
People run marathons every day.
You do not run marathons. You do not run, period. Who the hell is going to do this with you?
Probably no one. I will do it alone.

21 miles is a lot. I don't know why I made the comparison to a marathon, because hiking 21 miles is a lot different than running 26.2. Just because people, freakishly fit people, can run 26.2 miles does not mean I am qualified to hike 21.4 miles over seven mountains, but I decided that I could. And after a few months of mulling over the idea, I also decided I was suited to hike it alone. In my defense, I did post a few general invitations via Facebook... apparently I'm not much of a saleswoman. With decent weather fast approaching, I made the decision that hiking alone was not a big deal. I'd done it plenty of times before, so what was the big difference? (Spoiler alert: it was a big difference).

I chose the second weekend in May, thinking that the temperatures would quickly start rising after that (though who knows with New England. It snowed in NH on Memorial Day). The week before was filled with giddy anticipation and mild dread. I had never been on a hike that required much thought or planning; I was used to just driving to the base, hiking up, snapping a few pictures, eating some trail mix, hiking back down, and going about my day. But, as any committed hiker knows, an all-day excursion warrants much more thought. How much water did I need? How much weight would I be carrying? What were the best foods to bring? What do I need to wear? How can I coordinate being dropped off and picked up? How much mileage can I actually cover in a day? Did I actually need that ridiculous pocket knife that my parents were insistent on me bringing? (Yes) Etc, etc, etc.

The night before the hike I read the hard copy of the trail guide, which luckily my parents had stashed away somewhere. One of the first lines was never "never hike alone". I said "oops", and then disregarded the suggestion with youthful, reckless abandon. Reading through the Flora and Fauna section brought up the topic of bears, and my youthful, reckless abandon was abruptly interrupted. In 18 years of living in southern NH, and 4 more spent back and forth between there and Boston, I had never seen a black bear. When my mom told me they had seen a black bear on Pack Monadnock, a mountain I frequently hike, my eyes bulged out of my head. I KNEW black bears were in our area but for some reason I never really thought about running into one in the woods.. which is absolutely foolish. I had watched video of black bears casually batting bird feeders around in people's yards in much more populated areas, why the hell did I never consider coming across a bear in its own habitat? Immediately, I flashed back to earlier in the day when I was buying a new rain jacket at Columbia. I asked a saleswoman for her opinion between three jackets I had picked out. She suggested the blue one I was holding "because it's so cute!". I did end up getting that one (not just for the color), and joked to several people that my hiking rain jacket was not a fashion statement, but maybe a bear would decide not to rip my face off if it saw I had fashionable rain gear. I had a discussion with my parents about what I would do if I saw a bear, and I concluded that I would die.

Beginning of the trail

I set out with my mom the morning of May 9th to Ashburnham, MA. I was feeling good from my favorite pre-strenuous day activity - carb loading. From my research and own experiences, I decided to load up on complex carbs (pasta) and protein the night before, which break down slowly and give you lasting energy. I brought a mix of food that would provide instant energy (simple carbs, PB & J, Snickers) and was easily packable (beef jerky, trail mix, energy bars). I also carried my camera, sunscreen, bug spray, light sweatshirt, trail guide, another map, knife, emergency first aid kit, water/Gatorade/VitaCoco totaling about 5.5 pounds, cell phone, license, pedometer, and enough knee braces & KT tape to open up a physical therapy office along the trail. As we pulled into the parking lot I realized I forgot my "trekking" poles, which are actually just old ski poles I found at the dump. It wasn't a trip-ruiner, but someone with my joints really benefits from the extra support. My mom got out of the car, swatted away a swarm of black flies, looked around, and said "I'm leaving you HERE? Alone? Oh... boy...." I responded "yup", left her with a detailed map and estimations of where I would be and when, snapped a picture, and headed off confidently into the woods. My poor mother. I think watching me trek into the forest alone shaved a few months off of her life.

I headed for the summit of Mt. Watatic, a modest but decent ascent. I was plodding along, enjoying my surroundings, feeling good, but suddenly I was filled with dread. The internal conversation went something like this: "What do you think you're doing? Why do you think you're qualified for this? You tore your meniscus trying to get out of the way of an opening door, why do you think your body is fit for this? What are you going to do if a bear mauls you? You're out here alone..... what's that noise? ........... IS THAT A FUCKING BEAR?!"  Indeed it was. Just as I was contemplating my fate, a pretty sizable black bear went galloping through the woods about 100 yards away. Thankfully it was running the opposite direction. I knew I was supposed to stand my ground when facing a black bear; give it space and respect but also make myself look big and imposing. Instead what I think I did was freeze, stare blankly, and think "well, this is how I'm going to die". I say 'what I think I did' because it's all a blur, really. Ever seen someone get tased? Their body locks up and they fall to the ground. That's essentially what my brain did, and I'm surprised my body didn't follow suit. The rush of adrenaline had my heart beating out of my chest, so much so that as I continued walking I thought the bear could probably hear it. I was so consumed by my imminent death that I slowed enough for a woman to catch up to me, and thank heavens she did. She heard the bear, too, but thought it was my dog. I wish. Talking and hiking with her to the top calmed me enough to avoid cardiac arrest. As soon as I got to the summit I took out the ridiculous knife I didn't think I would need and clipped it to the waist strap for easy access. It was a foolish sense of protection, but a sense of comfort nonetheless.

Lost on some logging road.

I wish I had enjoyed Mt. Watatic more. The black flies were so constant that I couldn't stand in one place for very long. The views were great, but I had to keep moving north to stay on schedule. I consulted the trail guide, which said the trail continued north via an unmarked footpath to the right of a fire tower, crossed under an abandoned ski lift after about 100 yards, then linked back up to the woods after about 1/2 mile. Easy enough, I thought, but as I looked around I realized there were about 5 unmarked footpaths and the fire tower did not exist anymore. Every map I looked at seemed to have the trail continuing down another side of the mountain, not doubling back on itself. I picked a footpath, followed it, second guessed myself, doubled back... picked another one, wound up in overgrown brush, doubled back.... found what looked like an old logging road, crossed under what could have either been an old ski lift or a power line, couldn't find the trail, doubled back...... well, you get the idea. In all I probably hiked up and down that mountain three times. I consulted the trail guide about 50 times. I turned on my phone to look at the website and see if I had missed something. I had not. I added about an hour and a half of time and ~4 miles. It was exhausting. I was waiting for the bear to pop back up at any moment. I wished I had someone with me just to bounce my thoughts off of. It was hot, I was constantly second-guessing myself, my muscles were already tiring, and I forgot to keep hydrated. I finally sat down, took a long drink of water, and decided to go back down the way I came. I trudged angrily down the mountain, but came to the conclusion that maybe today was not my day and I had to be okay with it. Maybe I had not done my homework well enough. Maybe I wasn't meant to hike today. Just as I was ready to admit defeat I saw a sign indicating Wapack North. I think I actually laughed out loud. I'm not sure if the trail guide is outdated (though there's updates on the website, and nothing about Mt. Watatic), or if the trail was rerouted, but I was not off to a great start.

The trail continues into New Ipswich, NH, through an area that looks like it's being cleared for construction. I thought there was no way they would be building anything out there (there's no roads! Literally, no roads!), but I saw a building permit on a tree. My success at finding the trail again combined with being in an open area with good visibility had me feeling good, but as soon as I re-entered the woods dread creeped up on me again. The mind can play amazing tricks on itself. Every tiny movement I heard in the woods caused my body to seize into a fight-or-flight response (or in my case, apparently, just stand there dumbfounded). I never did see that bear again, but the thought of it haunted me all day. I coped by singing one of my favorite Pearl Jam songs out loud.

Binney Pond 

My next landmark was Binney Pond State Forest. Looking at Binney Pond felt like looking into the past. It was very secluded and I was the only one on the trail in the area. I got a sense that it had been unchanged for a long time. Unfortunately, I could not stop to enjoy it because I was behind schedule and being attacked by black flies. The climb up Pratt Mountain, the second of seven on the trail, was short but strenuous. It probably wouldn't have been so bad if I didn't hike up and down Mt. Watatic about three times, but it did give my legs a good burn. On the way up I was cursing myself: "This sucks. YOU did this to yourself. You can't even be mad. You're putting yourself through this on your own free will." The summit of Pratt Mt. is underwhelming. There is a viewpoint but I was too angry to take extra time for a viewpoint. I regret it.

Instead, I trudged on to New Ipswich Mt., a much less steep grade but essentially touching Pratt Mt.'s base. I descended Pratt Mt. and immediately ascended the next. New Ipswich Mt. had better views, so I stopped to let my legs rest for a few minutes. I recently saw a quote that said "summer is fun until every bug comes out of the 8th circle of hell", and it was quite fitting for this situation. I constantly had flies/mosquitos/who-knows-what buzzing in my ears, and staying still only made it worse. They persisted no matter how many times I coated myself in bug spray. Despite being eaten alive, I finally had a moment of peace that so often comes with getting to the top of a mountain. It was an absolutely beautiful, clear day, which made for great views. It was impossible not to appreciate. For a moment I forgot about how frustrating, and at times, scary, the morning had been up until that point. Then I looked at the surrounding area, realized I barely saw anything for miles and miles, and continued on before the thought of "I better not get injured out here" came back.

A few miles later came Barrett Mt., where I stopped and forced myself to eat my sandwich. I noticed I had zero appetite, which was the opposite of what I was expecting. Nevertheless, I knew with the constant movement, four mountains, and near 80 degree heat that I was burning a lot of calories (I burned about 3500 calories that day). After Barrett Mt. the trail crosses into the Windblown Cross Country Ski area, where several trails cross cross over the Wapack. Thankfully everything is extremely well marked, so it was easy to follow. I began to experience what I call balloon-brain. Balloon-brain is when I've been doing the same thing for a while and my brain seems to float out of my head and detach from the task, but my body continues to do it. I had been walking all day, and eventually I didn't even need to think about doing it anymore. My body took over and my brain was off somewhere else. I hadn't seen another soul for hours. I've read several books about long-distance hiking, and it seems I'm not the only one who experiences balloon-brain. It is oddly peaceful.

Blissfully horizontal

Popping out into civilization is always a weird phenomena when you've secluded in the woods all day. I knew I was getting close to the crossing of Rt. 123/124 because I began criss-crossing powerlines. I started to debate whether I should call it a day and have my mom pick me up there. I had done about 12 miles of hiking, more than I had ever done in a day. I turned on my cell phone, plopped down next to a powerline (ahh, nature), and called my mom. During our conversation I decided to push on to the next major road crossing. It didn't look that far... and it wasn't that far. But, damn, it felt far. I believe the trail was re-routed here, because the blazes disappeared for about a mile. Thankfully they popped up again and I was able to get back on the trail. It was ~4 miles of walking through wide, wet, and leafy trail. I reached the road I was meeting my mom on and to my dismay it was a hill. Not a particularly big hill, but after 16.81 miles of hiking it looked like Everest to me. My mom doesn't have a cell phone (hold your gasp), so I couldn't tell if she was already waiting for me at the parking lot. I agonized over the two options: I either walk up this stupid, annoying hill and hope she's already there, or wait where I know she has to drive past and avoid this stupid, annoying hill. I walked up the stupid, annoying hill. Thankfully she pulled in the moment I reached our meeting spot.

I spent a good portion of the day frustrated. I spent all of the day sweating bullets, aching, being attacked by bugs, and cursing my decision. I had no appetite. But the second I got into that car and ripped off my boots I joyfully recounted my day and ate an entire bag of beef jerky without realizing it (there's that balloon brain again). I've never experienced being sore BEFORE finishing a workout. 'Ol Faithful, my recurring blister-within-a-blister, was out in full force and accompanied by a few friends. I was happy, accomplished, and thinking "how the hell am I going to wake up and hike again tomorrow?". Thankfully for my muscles and 'Ol Faithful there was severe thunderstorms in the forecast the next day and I couldn't get out on the mountains. I was thankful for the rest but also incredibly frustrated. Going back to Boston without finishing the last section ate at me. My mom tried to reason with me ("you can finish soon, don't worry"), and I was only able to respond with disapproving grunt.

Summit of Pack Monadnock

The next weekend brought another bout of bad thunderstorms, and the next was my graduation. I was itching to get back and finally got to 18 days after I started. I decided to skip a small section (Burton Peak and Temple Mt.) and start at Miller State Park in Peterborough, NH. The mileage I hiked would have put me further than Miller State Park had I been going the right direction the entire time. Pack Monadnock and North Pack Monadnock are two mountains I have hiked many times, but I never hiked the two together. They are both easy mountains with moderately strenuous sections, which makes it very crowded in the warm weather. I was glad I got an early start so I was not overwhelmed by tons of families.

The end!.... almost. 

A pleasant, 6 mile hike on a warm, clear day was a great end to this experience. I didn't finish it within two consecutive days like I planned, but I was happy to accomplish my goal. I posed with the trail marker and gave myself a pat on the back... then promptly gave myself a punch in the face. My mom offered to drop be off and pick me up, but I thought "nahhhh, I'll just walk back to the car, no biggie." I had done a particularly strenuous workout earlier that week after about 2 weeks of being a couch potato (damn you, allergies), so I started the day on sore legs. 5.5 hilly miles after hiking 6 miles over two mountains was not the best idea I've ever had. I did not reach my blissful, balloon-brain state, but instead was quite bored and annoyed with myself. I jogged sections of the road, much to the dismay of 'Ol Faithful, out of pure boredom. Finally making the loop back to Miller State Park was a beautiful thing. I actually gave myself a few fist pumps.

The Wapack Trail was my first true long distance hike. It was at times frustrating and intimidating, and at times beautiful and rewarding. Most of all, it was a learning experience. I had a moment when I was hot, dehydrated, sweaty, sore, and being eaten by bugs, and I said to myself "if you ever want to do this shit again, remember how you feel in this moment". I've already disregarded that and am looking forward to hiking this trail again in its proper form.... maybe this time with a friend.