Therese Marie

Dear Charlie and Craig,

As I set out to tackle a 2,200 mile hike, it came to my attention I would be doing something that you two so fervently and popularly sang about: walking 1,000 miles. Now that I’ve done that? I’ve got a few things to say about the experience.

I would never freaking do this for someone else.

My god, the amount of twists and turns and speed bumps that assault you in 1,000 miles of walking are inumerable. I have faced challenges and problems that seemed unfixable, climbed mountains that seemed impossible, forded rivers that seemed uncrossable, and you know what? It felt amazing because I did it for myself. 

Sure, I’ll admit it: my first 500 miles were hiked for someone else. I was hiking to prove to every ex that I’m a sexy bad ass they never should have left. I was hiking to keep up with someone who wanted to spend his life with me. I was hiking to lose weight, gain muscle, prove that I can be awesome.

After several trips on and off trail I realized I wasn’t purely happy when I was doing those things. It took a lot of patience and bravery to recognize that.

Call it a selfish journey, but I call it healing.

Spur and I were talking at length about how people get hurt and then never let themselves fully heal. The healing process is so incredibly important if you want to move on. To have the strength and cognicence to recognize your own shortcomings, faults, or pain takes patience and time. Out here? That is literaly all you’ve got. Every day is full of at least 8 hours of thinking time.

I wasn’t expecting to find myself so broken in March. But over the past 2-7 years, I’d transformed into a raging mess, the eye of a storm. I showed up on the AT’s doorstep hurting but ready to change.

This hike has been my own rehab. I spent the money on gear and provisions and I came out here to heal myself. Whether you knew it or not, I was on the edge, and if it wasn’t evident in my scars it was surely evident in my poor choices, constant need for partners, and excessive drinking.

Deep down I knew I didn’t come out here to be better for someone or to show the world how awesome I am. I came out here to prove to myself that I can climb mountains, no matter how big or metaphorical they might be.

I walked the most difficult 10 miles of my life yesterday, and they weren’t so because I was walking away from something or someone I loved. They were the most difficult because I was finally walking towards something better. 

So with that? I’ve got 200 miles to Kathadin and then another 1,000 miles to hike further down south, and I’m going to hike those with fervor and bravery. There will not be a man or a woman waiting for me at the end. I will not fall down at anyone’s door.

I am Lil Wayne, hear me roar.

Fly on,

LW (Therese)