June 25: Limestone Spring, CT

1485.2 miles.

Remember running the mile in gym class?

Four laps around the track. The first you're feeling good, setting the pace, having a good time. The second lap you're doing okay, trying to keep your speed even, almost halfway there. The third lap sucks. You wish this thing were over, but you're not even close. The fourth lap you stretch it out and give it your all.

Hiking the Appalachian Trail is kind of like running the mile, just 2,000 times longer. And here we are in the third lap right now. I knew this wouldn't be easy -that was part of it's allure, but we were up for the challenge, and really I thought all we'd have to do is walk somewhere every day.

Walking is nice. People do it all the time -for fun, for exercise, to get to work or to the store. Put a pack on your back and it gets a little harder. Add some rocks and roots and stumps and creeks in your path and the excitement factor is on the rise. Then throw some mountains in there -and don't skirt around the side, we're going straight for the top and back down again. Finally, toss in some rain -good long soakers, and take away the possibility of a hot shower at the end of the day, a warm bed, a roof, or a change of clothes. Now we're walking.

So I get it; it's hard. Not just physically hard, though it is. Hard in ways that go beyond the body. This experience has demanded a kind of humble persistence, a slow, steady, quiet determination. A daily, sometimes hourly pep talk to the brain to stay positive, to the feet to hang in there, to the legs to keep on truckin.

Every day for the past month we've seen nearly the same thing all day long: thick forest at our sides, and rocks at our feet. The views doesn't really let on that we're actually getting anywhere.

But look! We're in Connecticut! Tomorrow we'll be in Massachusetts! We are really, truly walking north and ever so steadily working our way towards Mt. Katahdin, Maine.

Tom and I are both excited to get into Vermont; we hear it's beautiful country up ahead full of beastly mountains and epic views. One more week until we're there. I know we can do it. I know at this point, having come so far, that we'll be part of that 20% that make it to the end.

And I know, yes I'm certain, that when we're done and it's time to head back home, I'll miss the heck out of this life, this experience, this walk in the woods.