Backpacking on Pine Mountain
Y'all, I did it! One of my goals for 2025 was to hike the entire Pine Mountain Trail at FDR State Park in Georgia, in preparation for a bigger goal of spending a week on the Appalachian Trail later this spring. Done!
Since a week of backpacking on the AT is a significant commitment, I knew I needed to get my feet wet first with a "smaller" hike. I decided I was going to be brave and push myself, and planned it out so we could camp at back country sites that would divide the distance fairly evenly over 3 days, which meant about 7-8 miles per day. My starting pack weight was 27 lbs. I think his was about 30.
The Chiro has completed this distance multiple times. He likes to do it all on Black Friday whenever he can. That's 23 miles of trail running in one day, which is kinda insane to me. But he loves it. BUT he also had never done it with a full pack, so this was kinda an accomplishment for him too.
Hiking Without Adrenal Glands...
Aside from all the typical considerations and logistics, I really wasn't sure how my body was going to respond to the level of physical stress it would go through. Addisons Disease can make it a little dicey to know how far your body can be pushed since those adrenal glands aren't producing any cortisol in the first place. And as much as I've been trying to train, it's just not the same as being on the trail and sleeping on the ground multiple days. So (with my doctor's approval), I significantly updosed on my hydrocortisone every day. Despite how I hate taking the extra meds, I've had to come to terms with the fact that if I'm going to push my body, it's going to need help in many forms. One of those forms is extra steroids.
I also brought tons of electrolytes packets, along with a pre-workout powder that I would mix into my hydration bladder. And I tried to pack lots of protein (mostly in the form of beef sticks, freeze-dried taco meat, and protein powder).
Day 1 was good but near record high temps in the upper 80s. (Early April is not usually that warm here!) That meant a lot of sweating, which meant a lot of drinking electrolytes to keep the sodium up. (Sodium is regulated by your adrenals so those of us with adrenal insufficiency have to be very conscious about keeping it up, otherwise bad stuff happens.) On that first day we were mostly doing stretches of the trail I was familiar with, so that helped. But I sure appreciated having trekking poles on some of those grueling uphills and was more than glad to finally get to the campsite.
Day 2 was another hot day, but we got to stop at a creek and dip our feet and cool off for a bit, which felt like heaven. Day 3 was significantly cooler, which was amazing and made it so much easier.
The hardest part may have been when our ride fell through at the end and we couldn't get back to our car at the trailhead. Luckily my in-laws took mercy on us and came and rescued us right before a huge downpour hit!
(I take that back, that wasn't the hardest part....)
One Rough Night
In the middle of the second night I woke up feeling really sick--like, I should have probably exited the tent sick. I felt clammy, sweaty, chilled, nauseous. It didn't help that my sleeping bag was slightly damp and it was humid from overnight moisture. And right about then was when I remembered that I hadn't been taking my calcium for a few weeks since I'd run out. (I have chronically low calcium because my parathyroid glands were damaged when my thyroid was removed a long time ago. Lesson: keep all your body parts if at all possible). So I started worrying that as much as I had pushed that day, maybe my calcium level was critical and I was going into some kind of cardiac issue. I considered waking up the chiro but I reasoned there wasn't really much he could do, so I prayed and did my best to relax and just hope I wasn't going to die there in the tent at the Big Knot campsite off mile 8 of the Pine Mountain Trail.
Luckily, whatever was going on passed quickly. I was very cautious the next morning, and at first, before I got out of my sleeping bag, I was uncertain if I'd be able to hike at all that day, based on being sore from the previous 2 days of hiking and weak from whatever hit me overnight. And I was (both sore and a little weak). So I moved very slowly. And...my body warmed up. Once I got some breakfast in me, including some caffeine from the pre-workout, I was actually able to hoist up my pack and get back on the trail. And then when the breeze hit and the caffeine kicked in at the same time, life was magically good again.
Now, if I had continued to feel poorly I would have called it quits at the first duck out point (there were many along the way we could have utilized). I'm not one that likes to take my body to the edge, and I knew I was extra vulnerable being far from any opportunities for medical care had things gone bad. But I've also learned a bit about my body's warning signs--when to really be concerned. And luckily we didn't get to that point.
There's No Place Like Home
We actually made it without having to stop for lunch on that third day, and it's a good thing we made better time than the first 2 days because we would have found ourselves in a bad spring storm if we had been much slower. In fact, later that night when we were back home, a tornado touched down near our house as we were sleeping soundly in our comfortable bed. We were so tired we had no idea!
The next day, I was expecting to be sick and possibly have to stay in bed, based on past experiences of pushing hard. The really encouraging thing about this experience was that the next day, I was mostly fine! Sure, I was sore, but I was able to get up and about and show up for my commitments.
Prior to my diagnosis almost 2 years ago, I definitely would have been sick for days afterwards (if I hadn't had an adrenal crisis on the trail), and I guess that foreboding feeling is still in my brain, and I'm always bracing for the worst, even when circumstances have changed.
Why would I push myself to do something this hard while at the same time expecting such negative aftermath? Well, I think I knew/know my body is capable of more. And now that my condition is identified and managed, I'm equipped with the things I need. I think sometimes the hardest thing is getting rid of old thought patterns, unnecessary coping strategies, or traumatic associations in my head.
My body is amazing, and so is yours. It's capable of more, as the Chiro frequently reminds me, so I'm going to keep working toward my goals. Next up is a week on the Appalachian Trail. Because I'm trying to do this wisely, I'm not attaching a distance goal to it. And a "week" could be anywhere from 5-8 days in my view. It will all just depend on how things go. Either way, there has already been success in the effort to prepare, and that's a major win!
For a unique perspective on autoimmune healing, infertility, and faith, follow The Chiropractor's Wife on Instagram @chirowifelife
