I’m really doing this.

Well, the day is almost here. In less than 48 hours, I fly to San Diego. On Monday, April 18, I begin. I had been so busy the last few weeks wrapping up work and my life in NYC that I hadn’t been able to focus on this simple fact: I’m really doing this.

On April 8, I took a leave from my job, and on Monday, April 11, I put nearly all of my belongings into a storage unit in Brooklyn. After a full day of moving, running errands, and cleaning out my apartment, I decided to drive to my parents’ house in CT that evening. I was exhausted, but I couldn’t bear for my last night in NYC to be in an empty apartment. As I drove over the Whitestone Bridge that evening with my car packed with hiking gear and my cat, I looked out at the Manhattan skyline in the distance. It truly sparkled. This city has been my home for the past 12 years and I couldn’t believe I was leaving. I’ve met so many people I’ve been lucky enough to call my friends and colleagues. They have made this city my home. Saying goodbye (for now) to each of you over the last couple of weeks reminded me of just how lucky I am. You have all supported me and cheered me on as I take on this new adventure. Thus, while there was a certain sadness of leaving, I didn’t view it as leaving. Rather, all of the love and support from NYC will be with me all along the way.

When I finally got to Connecticut late that night utterly exhausted, it dawned on me that I no longer had a home in the traditional sense. Rather, the trail would be my home for the next five months. During my last few weeks in NYC, I hadn’t had much time to think about this new reality — my soon-to-be nomadic life and the long walk I was about to take. But, over the past few days, as I’ve been organizing and doing last-minute preparations, it’s started to sink in: I’m about to hike 2,650-ish miles. Am I actually insane? Can I actually walk this much for this long? These thoughts have crossed my mind. Truth be told, my emotions have been in overdrive. I vacillate from excitement to nervous to anxious to disbelief back to excitement all in the span of 30 seconds. I have organized and reorganized many times, likely as a way to calm the nerves and give me some control. Here is what I’ll be taking, organized (after about 15 reorganizations):

My gear to start the PCT.

Despite the seeming organization, I have freaked out at least on an hourly basis whether I bought the wrong backpack, whether I should bring or leave the fleece, whether I should bring the small or large Swiss army knife (a difference of about 2 ounces), and whether I’m carrying too much stuff. After each freakout, I repeatedly remind myself that I don’t need to be 100% right on the first try. If the backpack isn’t right, I can get a different one. If it’s too cold, I can have my parents ship me the fleece. There are solutions. In spite of the reminders, it hasn’t sunk in yet. I think I just need to get walking so I can figure it out as I go, rather than stress about things when I don’t know the answer just yet. Perhaps this is a reason I needed to do this hike in the first place.

Despite the nerves, I can’t wait to actually do this. Getting to the start has been its own journey. Making the choice to do something different from my life as I knew it. Taking a break from being a lawyer. Trading in my apartment for my new home (see below). None of these things have been easy, but they’ve all felt right. I hope the trail feels the same way.

My shelter for the next five months.

I can’t wait to share my tales from the trail with you. Lots of love.