Epilogue: Changes and "Re-entry"

A lot of things changed during and after the trip.  Since I returned, I've noticed these changes as I've tried to re-adapt to what used to be "normal."  It's been interesting.  The changes crept in over months, hammered into place through necessity and by simply existing in a different environment that demanded change.  I'm gradually changing back to the way I was before I left, but it is happening slowly.  Life is "softer" at home.  That's a good thing.

Physical changes

My body changed noticeably during the trip.  Sleep patterns took weeks to re-adjust once disconnected from the tyranny of the sun and dark.  My muscles had become poorly adapted to anything other than moving up and down hills and carrying my life in a pack.  My appetite did not decrease instantly when I stopped hiking, and it took several weeks to get back to a "normal" diet balanced with physical activity.  At one point I was gaining a pound every three days.  Now I'm settling back to where I was before all this began, but it is taking careful focus to do so.

My feet grew a full shoe size during the trip, and when I was done, my feet hurt.  A lot.  When I started running again, my muscles and joints rebelled, but my heart and lungs laughed at the (lack of) effort.  Even going up hills, I barely breathed hard and my heart rate remained at least 10 BPM lower than before the hike.  My resting heart rate is a hair under 60.  The first time I stretched after a run, I found that I could barely move my legs laterally, and it has taken weeks of stretching to even begin to limber up again.

Memory

An unexpected result of the physical demands of the extended effort was that my memory degraded very noticeably.  I found that I would pass a landmark -- a shelter, for example -- look at my watch to mark the time of passage, then be unable at the next landmark to recall what the time had been at the previous landmark.  I had to use a stopwatch for the time, and still struggled to remember which point I had used as the reference.  Was it the shelter, the river, or that major road I passed?  I was relieved to hear that most other hikers had the same issue and decided that it was probably a body in starvation mode ("ketosis") that was causing this.  This largely went away after I returned from the trip, but focus has at times been difficult to corral.  I'm having to work my way back to a "realistic" 12-hour productive work day because my mind wants to wander off constantly.

Outlook

My ability to "just do what is expected" is a bit diminished.  I'm thrilled to work with others towards common goals, but the thought of fitting into what now appears to be an arbitrary status system just doesn't appeal to me.  This is true socially as well as with work.

I find fashion to be mind-blowingly silly, am amazed at how people view risk, simply gasp at what has become of politics, and my heart aches when I see the damage that people do to their bodies and their minds voluntarily.

But I have also been witness to some extreme displays of heart and effort, watched people succeed at what seems impossible, and support strangers fanatically.

Bottom line, my tolerance for B.S. is shorter, and my sense that I should "fit in" is much diminished.  I like that.

Re-Entry

The process of re-entering society has been interesting, and it has happened over a much longer time period than I would have guessed.  I hope that as I sort through the media and memories I brought back, I continue to pull lessons and useful impressions, maybe even continue to change in a positive way.

Stay tuned.