i cried...

I had covered 40 miles in roughly 4 days. Each step forward my knees screamed in defiance. I wanted to walk to Maine. I was overweight. My longest hike up to this point was a three day hike. I still had over 2,100 miles to cover. Doubt clouded my thoughts. Could I do this? Do I have the physical and mental toughness to complete this goal? Will it be enjoyable? I stepped outside the hostel and sat at a picnic table overlooking the old, soft Georgia mountains. I cried. The tears rushed down my face. It's on an especially rare occasion that my tear ducts operate uncontrolled. Six months later, I rejoiced with my beautiful partner atop the northern terminus of the Appalachian Trail: Katahdin. Those tearful doubts were but a distant memory.

I share this experience for the parallel it provides to my infant stage of guiding. Four trips in to the season and doubt has rushed to the forefront of my thoughts. I'm surround my giants, by legends even, on the Green. Some guides have spent their entire lives here and consider the Green closer in relationship than their immediate family. Their bodies harden from the burden of maintaining that relationship. How can I compare? How can I provide clients with an unforgettable experience similar to these giants? My body aches, especially my hands with blisters forming on a regular basis. My thoughts begin to take the path leading to the dark side. I cry. Flows as heavy as the high water on the Green in May. This occurs thirty mins before a trip in a quaint trailor that belongs to a generous couple. I really should work on my timing! What do I do?

Similar to the path that I took seven years ago, I composed myself to the best of my ability, and moved forward toward my goal with each feathered stroke. I arrived 10 hrs later to ramp three with thoughts of hope and with the realization that's this is exactly where I need to be. Just like trail life, I will experience unbelievable days as well as tough days. I need to remain positive and continue to enjoy living each day. In the words of the great bull of the pit, "every day above ground is a good day."