Why did I decide to hike the PCT?

As I’ve read about the PCT, everyone has a “why.” I’m no different. I’m told this “why” is important to keep you going when times get tough and to remind yourself why you decided to walk 2,650 miles with only a backpack and your legs. As I’ve told people I was going to try to hike the entire PCT, many people ask me this question: “why?”

For all of those wondering, here is my best answer.

I needed a sweeping shift in perspective to rediscover who I am and regain my sense of purpose.

I’ve been a lawyer in NYC for twelve years. Throughout that time, and really since I graduated college, I lived so much of my life being a lawyer. And when I say being a lawyer, I use the word “being” on purpose, both for my existence and my passivity. For me, being a lawyer in the most competitive legal market in the most competitive city consumed me. I felt defined entirely by my profession, and I started to forget the other parts of who I was. For a long time, my life felt measured and dictated by a continuous cycle of deadlines, rather than joyous events. Yet I couldn’t stop running, even though there was no finish line. Most importantly, however, I lost track of why I was running in the first place (to the extent I ever knew why). To regain my sense of purpose and take charge of my own life, I needed to step back from the life as I knew it and broaden my perspective.

To continue the metaphor, I decided to take a walk, albeit a long one.

The moment I decided to attempt to hike the PCT, I knew it was the right choice for me.

Other people may take different paths than I do. Living out of a backpack and sleeping in a tent for five months is not most people’s cup of tea. But, for me, my entire outlook changed the moment I decided to attempt to hike the PCT. I felt overjoyed with a new sense of purpose and excitement. For the first time in my adult life, I was doing something that felt purposeful for myself. I made a choice that wasn’t made through the lens of professional accomplishment or traditional notions of success. Rather, it was for me. I have always been happiest in the mountains, happiest when life is stripped to what matters the most, happiest when I feel a sense of mental freedom from all of the stressors that weigh us down, but often matter little. Making this choice created the space for me to feel that happiness and to rediscover who I am. They say the “trail provides.” I haven’t even walked one mile, yet I already feel a lightness in my step and have a new twinkle in my eye. I’ll need to remember that when my steps don’t feel so light.

I ultimately don’t know what I will feel along the trail. I am sure there will be many ups and downs (literally and figuratively). And, perhaps (horrors of all horrors), I won’t be able to finish. But, I am excited to be surrounded by nature’s majesty each day I wake up. I am excited to meet the community of people that hike the trail and support the hikers. I am excited to have the time to think, the time to reconnect, the time to cry, the time to laugh, the time to be me.

Thank you.

I would be remiss if I didn’t thank my parents (who deserve a special shoutout), family, friends, and colleagues who have done more than just make this possible. Each person, in their own way, has gone out of their way to support me in this endeavor in ways I could have never imagined. From my mom watching YouTube videos on gear, to my boss reading Wild, to my friend buying me a (very lightweight) flask for those cold nights, the outpouring of love, friendship, and support makes my heart swell.

You will be with me each mile of the way. ❤️