Thoughts and ruminations from…home (ugh)
According to Urban Dictionary, shin splints are described thus:
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.
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.
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