Saturday morning my alarm went off and I didn’t hear it. That is me sleeping soundly, deeply, and with a calm mind, apparently also deaf. I had a back-up alarm set for 10 minutes later and luckily Amy heard that one. The volume was down and somehow on a lullaby tune?! That was only putting me into a deeper slumber at 0613. Being the mostly prepared but overly panicked person I am, I was throwing clothes on while Amy so caringly got out of bed to make me a bagel and send me off on my second month and an attempt at completing a full section.

It was a very rushed get-dressed, grab-lunch, throw-the-food-bag-in, and get-out-the-door 15 minutes of wild. I absolutely despise starting a day that way, but I knew I had a couple-hour drive to chill out, wake up, and go have a day. The sun rose over bluegrass country as I drove east toward Morehead once again. My nerves were gone this time; I knew the drill and what to expect when I got there. I took the 0900 shuttle this time so I could sleep in a bit, which is a big must for me. We got to trail about 0945 and after a picture and a quick bathroom break at the campground toilet, I was back on the Sheltowee Trace walking my way back toward Morehead. We flip-flopped this month due to parking logistics and hiked north so our end point was the same as the end point for section one for those that completed it. I still have to make the second part of section one up. The snow, ice, and cold deterred my brain from “needing” to do the trail in exact order.

Resembling the start of the Trace, about a half-mile into this section the trail ascends fast and hard. I took my time, remembering my superhero mindset last time that led to me dry heaving on the trail. I’ve found that anytime my heart rate gets up and I get hot, I will immediately start dry heaving. This has been something new since starting a couple of medications this past fall. I have to remind myself to slow down, breathe, and that it is ok to stop and take 30 seconds to slow my heart rate.

Once that big climb was out of the way, the biggest hurdle was definitely the trail conditions. From the freeze–thaw and wet weather, it was pure slop. I knew my SealSkinz socks were going to be the star and they saved me this past weekend. I heard so many people say their feet were soaked and that would have been a struggle for me. My feet were fully submerged at least once in cold, running water, and the number of times both feet were under a pile of mud is innumerable. BUT my feet stayed dry and I have never been more thankful for a piece of gear. Hiking poles were the next gear spotlight. They saved my butt from the ground I don’t know how many times. Sliding down the trail is never fun.

I loved seeing the beautiful Cave Run Lake again and the weather was perfect for the 12.8 miles hiked on Saturday. I even saw a fisherman out on his boat looking for a bite between the frozen sections of the lake. The sun was in and out and for some of the hike I was in short sleeves. I was pretty gassed by the time I got to camp that afternoon around 1600. I got the hammock and rainfly set up and loved it even more at camp than trying it at home. I was comfortable, had a space to decompress, and room to move around. I slept great, and the rain started about 2200 I think, but I never once got wet in my sleep system.

The next morning, drop buckets have to be to the support vehicle by 0800. I finally made myself throw my legs out of the hammock at 0710 and the rain was steady. I decided to leave my setup, minus what I could fit in my drop bucket, and come back for it after the hike. I was already getting too sweaty getting ready and didn’t want to get hotter only to put a rain jacket on and sweat even more. I headed down the path at 0735 and out to the road to cross the Cave Run Lake dam.

When dropping my gear, I met up with two nice guys and we walked the beginning road walk together. I am horrible with names until after about 3–4 times to make it stick, but I am 95 percent sure their names were Bill and Matt. “Bill” (I hope that is his name) took off pretty quick once we hit trail and I never saw him again, but “Matt” (I really hope that is his name since I spent the entire day with him) stayed with me. We walked in silence a lot, but also talked about our lives, the trail, our hopes, and random things we observed. He and I held the same hiking pace and for the first time in the challenge I hiked with someone for the entire day, minus the last 30 minutes when I dipped out to hit the gas station for a bathroom break, soda, and a Hershey’s almond bar.

I needed his company on those almost five hours we spent together. He motivated me just by walking, being present, and checking in on me. We shared some laughs, some complaining, and lots of “oh shit, that is a deep spot” moments. I believe in things happening in moments when you most need something to remind yourself you are seen, ok, and capable. When we parted it was a quick “goodbye, hope to see you on the trail again sometime.” I may never run into him again, but he was impactful on the time we spent together and made my second day in the relentless rain, sweaty coldness, and pruned hands as tolerable—and honestly as enjoyable—as it could have been given the conditions.

I was also so super excited to see friends James, Cheryl, Mary, Nick, Glenn, and many other familiar faces from month one. I met so many new folks and the trail family is starting to form.

Coming into Morehead, I was walking alone and it hit me on Main Street at the main intersection that I was going to make it. I inappropriately yelled, “F..K YES, you did it, kid,” while waiting for the light to change for me to cross. I was stoked and had just heard from a friend that I used to give so much shit to for doing this kind of stuff. I am not sure I will ever “love it” to her level, but I do thank her tremendously for the support she has given and questions she has answered. Kelly, you are a badass trail runner, marathoner, and I don’t even know what all else, but thank you for the “motivating” texts.

Heading back to camp to tear it down was miserable, but my gear was all still bone dry thanks to my rainfly. My “lost air pod” from the night before—resulting in me listening to the geese/ducks/whatever and coyotes going back and forth all night—was found. I got back in the car 10 minutes later, changed into dry clothes, and drove the couple hours home. Overall, I had a hard but rewarding weekend and much better weather than month one despite the rain. I didn’t get the stomach bug and I actually know I can make it, so it was honestly a great weekend.

With all that being said, I am having thoughts about how I want to complete this challenge going forward. I love the opportunity the STA and the challenge provides and the support that comes with it. I am having a problem being able to slow myself down and enjoy the walk, nature, the peaceful sits, and enjoying it the way I had hoped. I know there is no rush to get to camp other than to beat dark and get my sleep system up, but I can’t seem to not feel rushed to get there and get it all done.

On the second day we do leave camp by a certain time so the shuttle driver isn’t waiting on us, and so we all safely return in the late afternoon Sunday. I respect that and wholeheartedly agree with the reasoning. I just have a hard time functioning well in the mornings and it is leading me to rethink how I could approach this journey. After talking to a few people this weekend, I have a few ideas of how to do this in my own way but still use the challenge support on sections that I need to.

I haven’t fully committed to changing my approach, but if I am not loving it and not getting the peace I usually get from my walk in the woods, then I need to pivot. This journey is about finding myself and learning that things aren’t always going to work out the way I think or want them to. It has been far more emotional than I ever thought it was going to be, but I am ok with that. I am emotional anyway, so when I am extremely emotional I know real internal work is being done. Tears of accomplishment in my hammock on a hillside in Bath County, KY have a lasting impact.

I now have the strength to say I want to complete this trail in 2026, but maybe not the exact way I started it. And that is ok. Live a great story, friends, and when it doesn’t play out the exact way you hoped, just know a bigger plan is playing out—we just have to be patient and trust the process.