Last-Minute Panic

Do I know how to set this up?  In the desert?  In the snow?
For a storm?  Did I pick the right shelter?!

I am fighting it off the best I can (or blocking it out, rather), but the last-minute panic is finally creeping in.  So, I thought I'd try the "light of day" tactic.  See, I am, by nature, a bit of worrier.  (It's a Kwaiser thing.)  But I'm also aware of this tendency, and so over the years, I've come up with a couple of ways to deal with it.  One is to prepare.  You've probably seen my spreadsheets.  There are just as many spreadsheets that you haven't seen and five times as many lists.  I started planning this two years ago.  I made a list then of the "big rocks" I would like to have in place before I go.  I started saving with a goal of $10,000.  I decided to add an EMT onto my Wilderness First Responder certification.  I wanted to add a "Certified Interpretive Trainer" to my credentials before I left my job (just in case I needed to look for a new one when I returned.)  I had a "Top 11 of 2011" project list to finish at work before I handed off my position.  I reasoned that I should take a mountaineering course and learn how to use an ice axe and crampons before I tackled the Sierras -- once I completed that, I threw in a few snowy mountain summits to make sure I really knew what I was getting into.  I followed PCT thru-hikers last year (one of the snowiest on record) telling myself to expect the same.  Combating worry with preparedness really does help.  It also helps my fellow worriers to know that I've considered all of the scenarios and am ready for the worst.

Another method I use is to keep busy.  It may not be a worry-fighting tactic for my mom, but the constant busyness is something I get from her.  (It's a Brown thing.)  I go to Jazzercise 2 to 3 times a week.  I run, hike, and lift weights.  The EMT course and all of the extra practical skills that go with it nearly killed me on top of my regular job.  Before that, I was working on an independent study naturalist course.  I volunteer with the fire department.  I'm one of those people who tend to say Yes! to assisting with trainings, giving presentations, and organizing and attending get-togethers.  And because I am a perfectionist, I feel like I have to do all of these things well.  Now, don't get me wrong.  I am not one of those people.  There are people who do much more than I do.  And have kids on top of it.  My friend, Melanie, is pregnant and has a child, a husband, and a cat.  She juggles them and her full-time job with church, church activities, workouts, her knitting club, a regular blogging assignment, and mentoring.  AND, she's the person who not only sends you Christmas cards, Valentines presents, Halloween gifts, and a thank you card for everything; she'll also send you your birthday present one month early so that you get it before you leave for the Trail.  That the little I do keeps me busy is pathetic.  But it does, and it keeps me from worrying.

A third approach I use when these two haven't already squashed the worry is that "light of day" tactic.  I had some dark years in my late teens and early twenties.  And, being an introvert, I pretty much closed into myself.  It was extremely lonely and painful (I can't even imagine what it must have been like for those around me).  Thankfully, I made it out.  And I now rest easy knowing that I'll never go back there.  How?  I eventually learned that if I actually told someone about my worries, insecurities, and dark, lonely thoughts, they lost a little bit of their power over me.  I think it's a combination of sharing the burden and the fact that simply saying something aloud to another gives you a broader perspective.  And so nowadays, I make a point of sharing my concerns, frustrations, and fears.  I try not to run around repeating them to everyone, but to get everything out to at least one other person.  It seems to work.  And so, since I am still panicking about the PCT, I thought I'd put all of my fears and worries out there.  Ready?  Here goes:

I am worried/afraid:

• That I will not finish the trail.
• That I messed up my lower legs by temporarily selecting the wrong shoes.
• That I will not want to take the time to make the hot breakfasts I packed.
• That my pack will be too heavy.
• That my rain gear won't be waterproof.
• That I'm going to forget to pack toilet paper.
• That I'm going to end up with a trail name like "Creamsicle."  (It's taken, thank goodness.)
• That I picked the wrong place to ship our resupply packages.
• That I'm going to always arrive at the post office on a Sunday.
• That I'm going to freeze on Forester Pass.
• That my camera is going to fail.
• That I didn't save enough money.
• That I won't be approved for health insurance.
• That I'll lose my pack before the trip even begins.
• That I haven't practiced setting up my TarpTent enough.
• That I haven't trained enough.
• That we won't make it to Canada before the snow.
• That my dad won't read my blog because he's upset that medical issues are preventing him from joining me.
• That I'm going to step on a rattlesnake.
• That my skin is going to breakout.
• That I'm forgetting some MAJOR detail.  (Am I?)
• That I'll forget my Jazzercise moves just when I need them.
• That I'll never find the right trail clothes.  (The missing piece!)
• That my down bag is going to get wet.
• That I should have gone with the NeoAir instead of the Z-Rest.
• That I won't bring the right socks.
• That my pack isn't big enough for a bear canister.
• That I'll forget how to self-arrest with my ice axe.
• That my shyness is going to hold me back.
• That my mate and I might lose some of our powerful connection during the five months apart.
• That I'm going to miss out on everything while I'm gone.
• That the Maintenance/Operations Team might beat my Interpretive Team in the park wildflower ID competition.  (I'm seriously having dreams about this one.)
• That I'll blank out on my medical skills during an emergency.  And forget to put on gloves.
• That I'm going to give my Trail Angel volunteers bad/wrong information.
• That I'll get explosive diarrhea. 
• That my jerky is going to give me cancer. 
• That I won't get over my fear of the dark.

Phew!  That might be helping.  And, just to make it a little better; let's try my fourth tactic.  Which is to remind myself of the things I know and that I am not worried about.  

I am happy/sure:

• That I found the right shoes.
• That I picked the perfect underwear (Under Armour Mesh Boy Shorts.)
• That I have the perfect package person.
• That between the rangers at Oregon State Parks and the fire fighters/medics at Drakes Crossing, a small army will come to my aid in an emergency.
• That I will enjoy my food.  (It's way more of a variety than I eat at home.  AND I'm allowing myself sweets, wheat, cheese, and jerky!  Hooray!)
• That I have an amazing stove.
• That I will never lack physical or emotional support on this trip.
• That I have a job upon my return.
• That I will be a better person upon my return.
• That I'm mentally (if not physically!) tough enough for this journey.
• That the "Buff" is going to be the perfect bad hair solution, cold neck solution, and pretty much every other solution for the shoulders and up.
• That my cousin is going to be the perfect travel companion.
• That Jazzercise tunes will save the day repeatedly.
• That I am going to love all of the sunshine, views, and alpine lakes.
• That I know what I'm getting into -- which includes accepting that I can't know exactly what I'm getting into.
• That I will not let my worries and fears get the best of me.

Thanks for listening.