Regret and Mountain Blisters

how my sore feet helped tame regret

Regret and Mountain Blisters

I’ve never understood a person who says they have no regrets. How is that even possible?

Regret really gets to me at times. I’ve made a lot of mistakes, and it’s really easy to give in, to get overwhelmed by guilt, to become really depressed.

I used to backpack the Appalachian Trail with my brother. He’s a Jiu Jitsu guy, too.

Up and down mountains we’d climb, hefting heavy backpacks. Dry boots and dry socks were essentials, but no matter the amount of precaution we’d employ, blisters were a constant threat.

Eventually, I came to look at regret a bit like blisters: a constant threat, painful when they happen, and part of the price that we sometimes pay to top that next mountain.

Regret is bitter and hard. And, for me anyway, it can be utterly overwhelming at times. I try not to give into it. So I work hard to find ways to keep it in perspective. Because blisters are never the main course on the Appalachian Trail.

Regret can my heart feel heavy and dead. Like I want to die right now dead. But looking back on a trail of beautiful mountaintops helps my heart beat another day.

It keeps the blisters at bay.


SHOWN: Lemon Squeeze, Mohonk Mountain, NY — we hiked ~1991.

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