Tuesday Night, the Importance of Running

So I’ve read the self-important bloggers who wax poetic about the powers of running. I’ve heard of, and seen, people who primarily identify as “runners”. For me, this always seemed a trifle silly. 

I mean, it takes no great skill. No equipment. No knowledge is required, other than the innate understanding of how to run, which is something mere children can do without any formal training. And, of course, these runners were making no special claims about being good at running. They were just saying “sometimes, I run around for fun”.
Whoop de-freakin’-do.
I was diagnosed with ADHD as a college student, when all of a sudden I didn’t have the structure (or the guidance) that comes from an upper-middle class white upbringing which focused on “enriching experiences” and “competitive college admissions” and “do a good turn daily” and “it’s time to do your homework!”.
At college, I was a mess, at best. I was a disorganized wreck seeing myself truly for the first time, and realizing that I didn’t know where the heck my next class was, what I did with that assignment, who I was supposed to meet, and look! they have ice-cream. All at once.
But here’s the thing that you’ve been waiting for: I was wrong. Running is excellent. But I don’t give two bananas about my lungs (which I assume are doing good) or my heart (pumping) or my legs (toned, at least more so than when I was a chubby wreck of a college kid), it’s all about the brain.
Yes, running is good for my brain.
One of the more unpleasant side effects of the ADHD meds, in addition to feeling emotionally “flat” for most of the day is the sudden “crash” at around 5pm every day. I feel cranky, irritable for no reason, and down. I get a slight headache, I can’t think clearly, I become clumsy, and everything anyone says is a dig at me.
What is happening is my brain is literally stumbling, like a car, which isn’t getting the fuel it needs to feel good, like dopamine. Or serotonin. Or something. Hell I dunno, that conversation with the doctor was months ago.
Running, it seems, cranks up the ‘ol brain and produces endorphins. Or neurotransmitters. Listen, I’m a bit fuzzy on the science behind it all, but you read enough articles on the web to know what I’m talking about right? Right.
The point is, I’m pretty freaking close to writing an annoying article about how awesome it is to be a runner, and how much I identify with running culture, and blah blah blah.
Running has become my daily escape, my way to hit the reset button, my way to make the brain get amped up and produce the chemicals I need to feel good. It gives me time to think, time to dig deep, and time to prioritize things. It makes me feel, it makes me listen, and most of all, it makes me less cranky.
So although it’s awesome, you’ll never see me write some super annoying, preachy blog post that’s all “running changed my life!” or “runners for life” or “running makes you feel great” some other such crap.

A Change in Direction

So, a bit over 2 years ago, I hiked half of the Appalachian trail. It was over 1,000 miles in about 3 months, and it was a blast.

Despite my initial intentions to do the whole blasted thing in panic-like rush before graduate school started in the fall of 2013, alas, I am only human.  I had to settle for half. I walked from Georgia to West Virginia, and then headed home to pick up again the day-to-day routines of life as a student.

In the end, though, I was a much happier camper, once I began to focus on the experience  rather than the goal. Because, wasn’t the goal all along to have an wicked awesome and freeing experience? To prove to myself that I could do something difficult and independent? To get really, really stinky?

It was awesome.

In my time since, I’ve found that taking time to collect one’s thoughts is a rarity in the “real world”. In the woods, all you have is time and your thoughts for entertainment.

In that vein, I want to make this blog pretty much a place where I can just write. Mainly for myself. To help me collect my thoughts. And for fun.

My mother was an English major in college, and imparted a love of words and of books at an early age to my brother and I. I would take extra elective English classes in high school and in college because, hey, its fun to read and write essays! Some of my friends thought I was nuts when I decided to take 2 extra English electives in high school “for fun”.

I’ve found that I’ve missed the creative outlet that reading and writing has given me, and that as an ADULT now, I have to make time for the things that I like to do. Sometimes, that is a really, really hard thing to do.

So, this blog is for me now. Not for you. Feel free to unsubscribe, you Michael Hikes the Appalachian Trail followers! You won’t hurt my feelings.

But if you want to continue getting self-reflective crap like this in your inbox from me, feel free to read it! I promise at least sometimes it will be interesting. I’ll be updating about my life, stuff I read, things I am doing, my musing on current events, and whatever the hell else I feel like writing about.

Again, this is for me. So sometimes, it will be weird. Sometimes, it will be entirely a conversation that I had in my head. Sometimes it will be random fiction that I write. Sometimes daydreams.

But, dear readers, fear not! For this is THE INTERNET! You can do whatever you like.






Greetings From Mile 750!

Hey all–

I’m in scenic Buchanan, VA, (pop. 1,171)  a day’s hike north of Daleville, VA, (pop. 2,557), and it’s freaking gorgeous here.

The last 3 days I had the huge honor and privilege of backpacking with my Dad and my Bro, which was a great time. We laughed, told stories, made fire, ate food, Dad and Phil napped outside of a Kroger while I re-supplied a week’s worth of food, and everyone marveled at the beautiful views we passed. We hiked up McAfee Knob, which has easily the most amazing views of the trip so far, and we saw Tinker Cliffs, which was equally amazing.

The weather, after being quite rainy for the past few weeks, has been excellent as of late.

And about a week ago I got to meet up with Mom for dinner in Bland, VA, which lived up to it’s name. There are only 3 restaurants in Bland, none of which are separate from a gas station. We drove to some other town for dinner. It was excellent to get something not cooked on a camping stove!

I have had so many adventures since the last time I posted, it’s hard to describe them all: Wild ponies in Grayson Highlands State Park, beer at Trent’s Grocery, organic food and yoga and meditation and chasing chickens at Wood’s Hole Hostel, great conversations with people in the woods who go by the name “Soul Flute”, my first time hitch-hiking, staying in a guy’s front yard who calls himself “The Captain” and gives free soda to hikers, seeing a geological structure called “God’s Thumbprint” from up on the ridge-line, great times with numerous hiker friends, and so much more. There is almost too much adventure to put into words.

So, I’m going to try pictures.

Meet Virginia

I made it to Virginia!

I’m in Damascus, and I spent last night in a hiker hostel for 6 bucks. Hot shower, laundry, and epic amounts of food: these things are town necessities for hikers. Karaoke last night was just icing on the cake. My song of choice, “500 miles” by the Proclaimers went over real well amongst the crowd of hikers.

I’m at mile 466, and my ankles and feet and whatnot feel great. Stretching and ibuprofen have gone a long way towards managing my ankle swelling and soreness. I’ve still had zero blisters on my feet, which is pretty amazing out here. Everyone seems to have massive blisters that they have to deal with, and some folks have to duct tape their feet together every morning. I’m one of the lucky ones who for whatever reason has never had a single issue with my feet. (Also, nobody worry about Happy Feet. He is fine, hiking, and still has both his feet. They are healing, and look much better!)

A bit of bad news: I’m not going to finish the trail this year. Doing it in 100 days was an ambitious and worthy goal, but unfortunately I was a bit optimistic about how much time I would have before work and grad school start.

I only have less than 3 months. I started May 8th, and I found out I have to be back for training for work at UNC on August 5th. It’s darn near impossible to finish in that time-frame. 100 days would have been really stretching it, and its unfathomable for me to do it any faster than that.

So upon realizing this, I’ve decided that heck, I’m gonna backpack every available day I have this summer and make it as far as I get. I’m shooting for 1500 miles, which would put me in NY. It’s a real bummer I won’t be able to finish this year, but I will be able to return later and finish the whole thing.

Without the crazy pressure of finishing with such a hard deadline, I’m free to focus more on the experience rather than on cranking out a 22 mile-per-day average. I’ve been able to slow down, get to hang out with some of my fellow hikers, enjoy some of the little quirks of the trail, go into the little trail towns and get milkshakes, hike a bit off the trail to see the pretty sights, and just generally enjoy myself a little more. I’ve been hiking pretty fast with a pretty strict schedule, which is fun for the physical challenge of it, but wears you down after a while. When you slow down a bit, you are free to more fully experience the conversations you have with other hikers, the beautiful views, and you can do things like take an hour to have lunch by yourself on the top of a mountain and write in your journal.

Also, “Trail Magic” seems to happen more often when you aren’t in a rush to be somewhere. “Trail Magic” is when someone gives unsolicited food or tasty treats or beer or fruit to thru-hikers in the middle of the woods. It’s happened a few times to me so far, and every time feels like a life-changing experience. There is something quite powerful about having nothing, being dirty, tired, and wet, and then being given a surprise orange. After not having any fruit for a week, it’s the best orange you’ve ever tasted, and it brings happy tears to your eyes.

Which, of course, is pretty easy to do to me. If you want to see me cry happy tears, just put on Rudy. It works. Every. Time.

One day, we ran into a gigantic bearded fellow who thru-hiked in 1980 and cooked everyone ham and cobbler on an open fire for lunch. It was awesome. We took 3 hours in the middle of the day to talk, share tasty food, and talk about life, philosophy, and the finer points of hiking. It was wonderful, and it was the kind of thing that I would have never done if I was just pressing onward all day, everyday. He was an incredibly kind man, who gave us lots of advice, and was so happy to share his food with us. He refused money, and he made us all promise to do something kind and selfless for someone else, and said that would be repayment enough.

Its funny how being in the woods with pretty much nothing makes people even more generous. There are no status symbols in the woods, money means pretty much nothing because you can’t buy anything when you are 50 miles from town, and kindness and trust become more valuable than success or competition. Hikers are an odd breed, but some of the kindest and most thoughtful people you could ask to meet. Also, they smell bad.

At first I was very hesitant to let go of my lofty goal of completing the AT this summer, but now I’m quite happy now to no longer consider myself a thru-hiker. Now, in the vernacular of the trail, I am known as a LASH-er (Long A** Section Hiker). This summer I will backpack for 3 months, get as far as I get, and have lots of stories to tell after it’s over. And you can bet your boots I will be back to try and finish the AT


Bears I’ve seen: 5 (3 adult, 2 cubs)

Showers: 7

Cans of Yoo-hoo I’ve had: 8

Number of times I lost my wallet in the woods, with my debit card, credit card, ID, insurance card, and $40 in cash in it: 1

Number of times a good Samaritan drove an hour to return my wallet, cash and all, 2 days later: 1

When I mention I’m from Chapel Hill, the number of times the conversation goes immediately to college basketball: 10

Number of steps it takes to finish the AT:  5 million

Number of times I have heard that stat: 9 million

Number of times I have pooped in the woods: too many to count. Toilets are a nice thing. I miss them.

Number of people named “Hillbilly” I’m actively avoiding: 1

That’s all for now! More updates as I hike Virginia!