Jitters

Welp. I'm about to blow up my life a bit and begin a thru-hike of the Pacific Crest Trail (PCT). 

This is the last weekend before I depart, and I am finding myself feeling all of the feelings. Honestly, for the past week I've vacillated between completely-excited-and-grateful-to-the-point-of-tears and raging self-doubt about my ability to complete this massive undertaking.

Don't get me wrong, I've been preparing for a LONG time for this. I've section-hiked the entire Ice Age Trail in Wisconsin. I've completed the 93-mile Wonderland Trail around Mount Rainier. I've backpacked in the Tetons, Yosemite, Isle Royale, and Rocky Mountain National Park. I've been training as much as my two jobs will allow, most often on my beloved Ice Age Trail. I think I've got as good of a shot as anyone at making it the entire 2,650 miles from Mexico to Canada.

But I'm also not naive about how much luck will have to be on my side. Most people who start the PCT are not able to finish it, often through no fault of their own. Injuries crop up from chronic overuse of the muscles and joints required to hike 15-20 miles a day, over and over again. The psychological challenge of missing home and family while having uninterrupted time for thinking during all of one's waking hours is very real. Consistent with my Midwestern upbringing, I am approaching this challenge with a great deal of humility. I will be lucky to finish. I am lucky to be able to start.

This next week will bring all sorts of transitions. I've got to say good-bye to my AP Psych students, who are entering 4th quarter soon. And, per usual, by this point in the course I'm very emotionally invested in each one of them. I've been preparing for months to hand them off to my very-capable substitute, but I'll miss seeing them through the end (the AP Exam, and graduation for seniors).  At my psychotherapy practice, I've been winding down with clients and making sure everyone has access to support during my absence. It has been hard to say even a temporary good-bye to folks who have trusted me for support when going through such difficult journeys. I will miss all of them.

My husband will be supporting me on this journey by mailing all my resupply packages and managing the household while I'm away. As my departure approaches I'm having a hard time wrapping my mind around the prospect of not seeing him (in person) for many months, and I'll miss our two kitties as well. 

And yet, I will get on the plane and set out on trail, even though it's scary and will undoubtedly be hard. Even though there's a chance it might not work out. Because I think we should all do things that terrify us from time to time. I've spent much of my life playing by the "rules," and it's time to test that system. Work will be waiting for me when I return.