As I sat in my tent after a 7 hour long, 30km hike, I knew that I had a problem. I had walked a total of 60 km in 2 days, and my feet were suffering the consequences. Painful blisters lined my toes and right heel, preventing me from walking straight, much less from carrying my 45lb pack another 120km to my final destination. Faced with the choice of either giving up or pushing on, I pulled out my knife, iodine, and gauze, and began the painful process of addressing my wounds with the tools I had available.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Many transformative thoughts and events happen to a person when they lose their jobs overnight. Thrust into a new, jobless reality due to a federal budget cut in my office this past April, I found myself reflecting upon a variety of difficult questions:

What can I do to improve myself from here on?

How do I address my fears and anxieties about finding a new job?

and,

What's my next step?

It's natural for people to get down on themselves when they lose their livelihoods in the blink of an eye. I myself found out without much warning or fanfare that my contract was not being renewed due to budgetary decisions from ACOA, forcing me to face the prospect of bringing about some major changes to my life. I knew for one that I could not stay in NB. That meant that not only would I have to find a new job, but I'd also have to relocate. New Brunswick isn't exactly a booming economy, and for someone trained in government, politics, finance, and international affairs, my prospects of finding a meaningful position were not very good given its limited market.

However, before I could even think about moving and finding work, I had a more pressing matter to address: my lowered confidence. The prospect of moving to a new city (I had chosen Toronto because of the proximity to good friends and family members) after being settled in NB for three years was daunting enough, adding the fact that I would have to find work in this new place was even scarier. How could I push past my self-doubt and actually make it happen?

After carefully thinking about who I am and what kinds of expectations I have for myself, it didn't take me long to realize that the best way to prepare myself for this new challenge would be to do something difficult, and a perhaps little crazy. A challenge so difficult, in fact, that I would be facing real danger and physically draining circumstances that would require a lot of planning, focus, and determination. With the goal of pushing myself beyond my limits, I decided to hike 150km of the Cabot Trail, alone. If I could do this, moving to Toronto and finding a new job would be easy by comparison. In theory... at least.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Preparation

Any long distance hike needs to be treated like a very large and serious project. Preparation can take weeks, and requires the following:

Risk Assessment and Mitigation

One does not simply hike 150km through forests and over mountains without any preparation or consideration for the risks. In my case, I took the following steps:

- I estimated the distances between campsites using google maps. This allowed me to know ahead of time how many km I would have to walk on a daily basis, as well as a create a relatively accurate timeline of how long it would take me to complete my goal overall.

- I contacted a park ranger about the dangers of being alone surrounded by coyotes, bears, and moose. I mitigated the very real risk of being mauled by a black bear by carrying and familiarizing myself with Bear Spray, a highly concentrated form of pepper spray that is a proven bear deterrent (when used correctly). I also carried multiple noisemakers, including an airhorn, a whistle, and a loud rape alarm, using them often in order to let animals know I was coming and giving them a chance to move away. There's nothing more dangerous than startling a wild animal who wasn't expecting to see you, this is when they're most likely to attack rather than the much preferable action of cowardly running away from the loud and scary human.

- Hiking alone is always dangerous, so I bought a SpotGPS unit which is an always-on tracking system that follows my progress in real time. If there would be any problems, a number of people would be able to find me quickly so long as I had the unit on me. Security backups not only made me feel better about the risk, but addressed the fears of my family members and friends as well.

- I bought food to last me 10 days in the form of freeze dried foodstuffs. I outlined possible water sources on my map. I did an inventory of all of my gear and decided what I needed and what I could leave behind. My pack's final weight would play between 45 and 50lbs, depending on how much water I would need to carry. I would have to carry that weight for 150km.

- Seeing as my hike would bring me from one side of the island to the other, I negotiated a pickup ride from a local B&B owner, who agreed to pick me up and drive me back once I had completed my trek. This proved an essential part of the planning, otherwise I would have had to hitchhike the nearly two hour drive back to my original departure point. Not a bad option, but not ideal.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Hike

Best Laid Plans

Astronaut Chris Hadfield gives the following advice: Sweat the small stuff. His point is that when you're faced with great risk, you have to consider all the worst case scenarios, always be asking yourself what might kill you next, and think about each step in extreme detail so that you're ready for anything when anything goes wrong.

But even one of the most accomplished human beings on the planet cannot plan for everything. While on a space walk, Chris found himself in a life and death situation when liquid came loose in his visor and began clinging to his eyes, causing him to be blinded by the unexpectedly painful sting of the mystery liquid. Fortunately, he had a fellow astronaut with him outside of the ISS who was able to help him back into the space station without incident. A later analysis by NASA proved that Chris had made a tiny, simple mistake: he had used a cleaner solution to polish his spacesuit's visor, but did not properly remove resin left behind by the cleaner after he was done. When water got loose in his helmet from a faulty drinking tube, it mixed with the cleaner and created a caustic cocktail that blinded him while he hung on for his life in the vacuum of space. Nasa took note of the event and changed the cleaning solution to something far less caustic, and Chris made sure to remove any remaining resin for future EVAs (extravehicular activity, or spacewalks).

What with my previous experiences doing long distance hikes, I felt that I had planned for nearly all the foreseeable risks and contingencies. I had my GPS, I had bear spray, I had enough food, I had a way to filter water from streams, I had shelter, I knew my map by heart, and I was physically fit enough to accomplish my goal. Yet, for whatever reason, I had not considered how devastating a few blisters could be, and how near I would get to not being able to complete my goal because of them.

Two days into my hike I began to feel small, painful lumps developing on my feet and toes. I would change my socks mid-way between campsites, and yet that did nothing to prevent their onset. Upon arrival at my second campsite, a full 60km into the hike, my feet hurt like they'd never hurt before. I was completely debilitated, barely able to stand. That night I sat in my tent looking at the large, nasty looking blisters on my toes and closely considered my options.

Option #1: I could give up. It was easy to give up, after all. My feet hurt and I could barely stand, forget about hiking another 120km with 45lbs on my back. That would have been a great excuse to turn my back on my goal. It was as easy as asking another camper with a vehicle for a ride back to my starting point. But deep down in my gut, that didn't feel right. I was there to overcome the struggle, to push through the challenge, to find ways to deal with the obstacles and finish my goal. If I didn't complete my goal, I'd be giving myself the opportunity to walk away from all future challenges as well, and I would never be able to forgive myself.

At that point, I knew that it was pointless to curse myself for not considering that blisters might occur. I had done tons of long distance treks before in the same boots and socks, and they'd never done this to me. But that didn't matter, I had a problem and I had to deal with it.

Option #2: Deal with the problem. Staring at the large welts on my toes, I decided to do what was necessary. I pulled out my knife, disinfected the blade as well as each of the wounds, made incisions along the sides of the blisters, and proceeded to cringed through the pain of squeezing out the liquid inside each one until they were mostly empty. I then taped gauze to my wounds, and took the following day off to read, rest, and recover. My timeline for completing my goal would change, but I had to accept that as an unexpected consequence. Either I would push back my timeline for completing the course, or give up entirely... and giving up was not an acceptable option.

A day later, the blisters had mostly receded, and I was able to continue. I wrapped my wounds in ductape before leaving and walked 25km that day, managing the pain by focusing on each step, and forcing myself to push onward.

The Lesson: Recognize but don't dwell on your mistakes, know how to take care of your own wounds, and stay focused on the goal.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

How To Complete a Difficult Project

It's so easy to look at a massive goal you've set before yourself and, overwhelmed, turn away from it entirely. There's nothing easier than giving up in life, and nothing that leaves more of a bitter aftertaste.

Large goals and projects have to be looked at as small, individual pieces of a larger puzzle, being inspected and addressed separately before finding their place in the bigger picture. A multi-day long distance hike is no different.

In my case, each moment presented its own unique problem that had to be addressed before I could reach my end goal of completing the whole course. The biggest challenge was finding the motivation and drive to simply put one foot ahead of the other as I pushed up the side of a small mountain, as well as answer the question as to 'why' I was doing it in the first place.

When your joints and tendons feel like they are breaking apart, when your knees feel like they're going to fall off, and when the weight in your pack squeezes your shoulders until they're black and blue, it is very hard to find the justification you need to convince yourself to continue on your path. However, the key to pushing onward is to focus on the moment, to look at exactly what you need to accomplish within the next 10 seconds in order to get closer to your goal.

In order to move on, I thought about the present moment, and recited the following thoughts:

'Left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot. Just another hill, just another couple miles. Don't give up, push the pain out of your mind, listen to the birds, feel the sun, keep your head up. Focus on your environment, watch out for moose, bears, and coyotes. Open yourself to your fears and anxieties, understand them, but don't let those feelings stop you. Listen to your core thoughts, hear what your inner voice is saying, and push on. You've got this. Remember to take pleasure in the freedom of the present moment, to exert your will onto this road, and to make it your own. Relish the pain, enjoy the struggle, and don't turn away from your fears. This is life, after all. Left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot.'

After countless steps, I'd be rewarded with the feeling of having accomplished my small, moment to moment goals, knowing that I was that much closer to achieving my final goal. In those quiet, personal victories I could stop, breathe, and take in some amazing views that the Cabot Trail has on offer along the way.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rewards and Lessons

The hike ended up taking 10 days. I had walked a total of 147km. Every day I faced new challenges that impeded my progress, yet I was able to constantly find joy in small moments. I met wonderful people every day with whom I shared stories over food and laughs. Finally, I had achieved my goal, and walked away with a new sense of accomplishment and pride.

Most importantly, I affirmed what I had known all along, that I was competent, capable, and determined to accomplish a goal whose finish line existed outside of my comfort zone. What I once thought was a limit is now an achieved reality, and this trek, this adventure, gave me the confidence I need to push onward with my career search and new life in Toronto. I now feel more ready than ever, excited to take on new professional challenges with enthusiasm and gusto.

I post this to my LinkedIn profile because I feel that this is the kind of personal experience that is often ignored by employers when they look for candidates. While I may not have 2-3 years of experience in xyz, I know that my time working in Vietnam, my two years of study in India, the high-altitude air balloon that I launched and recovered, as well as the numerous long distance hikes and mountain climbs that I have challenged over the years have all tempered in me the kinds of skills and attitude necessary to adapt to demanding professional positions quickly and with competence. These skills reflect the personal projects and challenges that I have willingly taken on, they are a part of who I am, and are applicable across many different aspects of my personal and professional life.

Finally, the best lessons I took away from this wonderful trek: never stop learning, never stop pushing yourself beyond your limits, know how to heal your own wounds, and always keep the big picture in your mind as you deal with each moment's challenges. Life is an adventure, enjoy it.