Saturday, March 25, 2017

So I contacted my doctor about the diabetes, and the doctor told me to find a VA clinic and get it checked. But I was in the middle of the Smoky Mountains, several days' walk from anywhere I could get out of the wilderness, so I planned to have it checked at my next hostel stop.

And that's when my blood sugar decided to take a nose dive. I spent the next several days trying to keep it stable enough to keep moving, only able to go as far as the next shelter; spells of dizziness, feeling weak and wobbly, losing my balance, stumbling, tripping, falling. Several times my vision started to go dark like I was going to lose consciousness. At one point, somebody found me huddled in my sleeping bag in a shelter in the middle of the day (hypoglycemia makes you feel cold) and wanted to call the forest rangers and have me medevaced out, but I told him no, I wanted to walk out.

So I did, but it took me five days. And as if that all weren't enough, exactly two miles from the pick-up point where I was able to get off-trail, I tripped, stumbled, fell, and wrenched my bad knee (which had been doing just fine), and had to walk the last two miles with my knee hurting. Now it's all swollen and stiff, and making a funny clicking noise.

So, as you've probably guessed, I'm done. <sigh>

But, on the other hand...


The truth is, that I was going to be out there exactly as long as God willed for me to be out there, and not one minute more or less. I planned a complete through-hike, but He had some other purpose, and I guess whatever lesson, or growth, or change He wanted me to accomplish was accomplished in the time I had. Same as last time: it seems patently obvious, looking at the convergence of factors working together to send me home both times, that it was His time for me to do so. The Lord's will be done.

Sunday, March 19, 2017


I've been given another reason to do this as a section hike rather than trying to finish the whole thing this year: I have another grandchild due this August. This is the daughter who has had two previous miscarriages, so I think I should really be there.

Also, please pray for the health of mother and child.

A Realization

I have long struggled with unforgiveness and feelings of bitterness toward the clergy of my former church, for not being more helpful to me, and to her, during the time when we were experiencing the torments of our wounded feelings and broken relationship. I believed, and still believe, that they were dismissive, judgemental, and deeply lacking in genuine Christian love toward us, and to put it bluntly, failed miserably and spectacularly in their job as pastors.

It has been much more difficult for me to forgive them than it has to forgive her, or even her parents, because I've always believed that she and her family were acting out of their own woundedness and fear, whereas I held our priests more culpable, as those who were in a position of authority and power, and who had voluntarily taken on the task of caring for the spiritual and emotional well-being of God's people who were entrusted to their care. And I've justified it by grouping my own experience with others whom I'd seen treated similarly there.

But I have just been granted the ability to truly forgive them through a revelation of the true nature of humility--that is, that I cannot expect other people to love me. It's wonderful when they do. But when they don't, I cannot hold it against them and resent them for it: I must accept their sin and failure in recognition that they are flawed and broken just as I am, and look to the Lord only for my sense of being loved and accepted. This holds true for pastors, parents, and leaders as much as it does for lovers and friends.

So, this is me formally and publicly forgiving them, and acknowledging and repenting of my own sin of unforgiveness.
"A true Christian life is a life not focused on what others do wrong; a true Christian life is a life that, despite the heresy, hypocrisy, and spiritual blindness surrounding us, focuses quietly on living in chastity, modesty, and humility; it’s a life of constant prayer and gratitude, a life purged of lust and hate, a life without competition, and a life detached from the world and all its sins. And sadly it’s a life that few Christians today have any interest in seeking."

-- Raymond Lloyd Richmond

Friday, March 17, 2017

The Price

As you know, I've spent the last ten years changing not only how much I eat, but what I eat, how I think about what I eat, and how I feel about what I eat. In short, my entire relationship to food.  In case you didn't already guess, it was not easy.

When I planned and started this hike, I was determined to continue, as much as possible or practical, good eating habits. I was especially concerned to avoid doing the thing that everyone else who does ultra long-distance hiking does: living on snickers bars and pop tarts on the trail, and gorging on junk food in town. So I carefully selected good, healthy, high-energy foods with quality natural ingredients and set up my resupply system accordingly.

But here's the problem: it doesn't work. Apparently, nothing but straight sugar gives the body the energy it needs to keep climbing those mountains, all day long, day after day. This isn't just my experience. Here is an article by a trained nutritionist who is also an AT through-hiker.

The issue, I think, according to my amateur understanding, is that all other forms of calorie besides refined sugar have to be converted by the body into glucose before they can be burned as fuel, which process itself requires energy expenditure, whereas sugar can be dumped directly into the metabolism and burned immediately.

So after weeks of always feeling like I was sucking fumes, I gave in and started buying loads of high-calorie processed sugar foods. And it genuinely does help. There are days when I just absolutely wouldn't get up that final ascent (or those final two or three ascents) without that sugar.

But there's another problem: I don't know if I've mentioned this before, but when I was at my biggest, I was just beginning to become a type 2 diabetic. I beat it; completely eliminated the diabetes through healthy diet, exercise, and weight loss, and was officially declared not diabetic by my doctor. But all this sugar is really messing with me; making me feel like garbage, and I'm kind of worried about permanent damage. I really wouldn't like to end my hike by waking up in a hospital from a diabetic coma. Nor would I like to live the rest of my life as a diabetic, after having once overcome it, for the sake of a single hike.

I'm also worried about the behavioral consequences of eating this way for an extended time. In other words, I'm afraid I'll have a struggle switching back to healthy eating when I'm done. I know I can do it--if I've got the will to fast for six months, I can beat this too. Eventually. But I'm afraid of how much weight I might gain back while I'm doing it.

I guess I should write a message to my doctor and see what she thinks, although I can't promise that I will take her advice once I've got it. If I had to end another trip because of medical issues I would be seriously disappointed.

You know, I meet people every day for whom this endeavor is quite simple. No knee brace, no sleep apnea, no diabetes. <sigh>

Friday, March 10, 2017

So, am I doing this for Her?

No, I wouldn't put it that way. I'm doing it for me. I'm walking for the reasons I've mentioned before. I'm out here to finish getting in shape. But mainly, I just feel like walking.

It would be more accurate to say that she's my inspiration, as she has been for everything I've done for the last five or six years. The best way I can say it is that knowing that she exists makes me believe that there is good in this world, and that life is worth living: something I never had before. So I'm carrying the rose as a token that she is in my thoughts everywhere I go, and a symbol that she is with me in my heart in everything I do.



But it is a double-edged sword: it also means that I will continue to be alone. Because knowing that she exists means knowing that No One Else Will Ever Do.