Jun 16, 2022 : Mike Hanold Appalachian Trail

Splintered

Thoughts and ruminations from…home (ugh)

Shin Splints

According to Urban Dictionary, shin splints are described thus:

“A pain below your knee from too much running – its a pain in the ass. You get it mostly from Track, and having too much sex. Soon to be classified as an STD.”

Unfortunately for me, my shin splints had nothing to do with track and even more unfortunately less to do with sex. My right shin hurts, and it’s due to overwork. It’s almost as though 770 of miles of trail can somehow have a real, tangible negative effect on the body. Who’d’ve thunk it.

The Decision

I realized I had a real problem after ingesting enough ibuprofen to cover up the Iran-Contra affair and then it still hurt to walk. My dumb brain was then like, “Hey dude, this is probably not good?” I didn’t even get the chance to exit somewhere cool, it was just one of those random parking lots along the Blue Ridge Parkway in Virginia. I went to urgent care in Lexington and found out that splints of this severity take weeks to fully heal.

And with weeks to fully heal, that torpedoed the hike I wanted to do. To get back on trail and finish would require a southbound flip flop or skipping ahead several hundred miles, neither of which I want to do. Especially when my shin hurts all the time, it would suck to get back on trail. A comeback story this year would be much like the recent Obi-Wan Kenobi show, where it’s much appreciated but I wouldn’t be happy about it.

Being Home

I hate being home. It’s boring, my leg hurts, and I miss to high hell everyone that I’ve been friends with on trail. Not to mention, falling this short of a stated goal is torture. I have so many friends and family blowing smoke up my ass saying things like, “We’re so proud of y0u, you walked so far, take pride in your accomplishment!”

And all I can think is…I finished 769.9 miles out of the stated goal of 2194.3. Let’s do the math! That’s 35% of the trail. Just over a third of the goal. Last I checked, a 35% grade is an F. A big, fat, you didn’t even get close, F grade. Maybe sometime soon it’ll process in my lil’ ol’ brain that 769.9 is a cool accomplishment, but I’m not ready to hear it. Right now, I failed. And I think it’ll take a while to get over it. That is, if I get over it at all.

There’s a part of me that knows it’s not my fault; injuries happen, and I was forced off. Still doesn’t make it feel any better. I want to be out there. And I can’t. And I hate it. I’ve been off trail for a week and a half now, and I know I can’t continue and I know I’m tired already of being here. Fuck me.

Final Final Thought

We’ll meet again
Don’t know where
Don’t know when
But I know we’ll meet again some sunny day.

…Dipper, signing off.

< Previous Post

Affiliate Disclosure

This website contains affiliate links, which means The Trek may receive a percentage of any product or service you purchase using the links in the articles or advertisements. The buyer pays the same price as they would otherwise, and your purchase helps to support The Trek's ongoing goal to serve you quality backpacking advice and information. Thanks for your support!

To learn more, please visit the About This Site page.