Gettysburg, PA

Early on the walking was tougher than I had anticipated. I was still walking roughly 25 miles a day, but it seemed to drag on. My slow feet constantly second guessing mind made things more difficult on me. After all what was I looking to accomplish on my second walk across America? What was it that I still had to prove to myself? The life lessons learned, the pain, growth and experiences were magical during the first go around. Was I foolish to try to recreate this coming of age moment in my life and could I ever capture the magic again? The novelty seemed to have worn off. This lifestyle, although radical was nothing new to me.

In the beginning days, sometimes I would think and try to figure if I had even spoken throughout the entire day. This was nothing new, I did this when I wasn't on the road. I have a tendency to shut away from the people around me. Something I wrestled with two years ago was making a sign to put on my cart, announcing to the world what it is that I was actually doing. I decided against it last time. I decided this could be my change. Something that could differentiate this experience from the last. I didn't like the idea of displaying a sign that read "walking across America" at all. I was so uncomfortable with the "look at me" nature of it. Why did I need to tell people? Because honestly who cares? I don't like to draw attention to myself. In my last experience the people who would stop to talk or help me out would do so having no idea what I was doing. They just assumed I was homeless and did not judge me. The people I would meet were genuine good people willing to help anybody, and often I would not even tell them what I was doing. It was just one human helping another. It was a beautiful thing.I didn't want to lose that aspect of the walk. Then again it could open the door to many more experiences with many more people. Reluctantly I cut up some orange poster board and wrote in big black letters "walking across America". I guess I still have to get out of my comfort zone a little more.

In the 4 days since I have had a number of roadside interactions. It's funny how a piece of poster board and a thick black sharpie can drastically change the way you are seen by everyone. These interactions have really lifted my spirits. They validate my decision to be out here once again. I finally feel like I am getting to meet, learn and understand the people of America, as well as walk across it. I love to see where these people are from up close and listen to their stories. This way I can maybe grasp why they are the way they are, and maybe why I am the way I am. Also I have yet to be pulled over and questioned on the whereabouts of the baby in my cart. The only downfalls to the sign so far:

- I feel like a fraud

- more honks ( honking at me helps in no way)

- I haven't fully accepted it. I'll still cover or hide my sign at times because I'm embarrassed.

Fast forward to last night. I was determined to reach Gettysburg and walk 36 miles on the day. Each step landing at a different angle in order to not upset the growing blisters on my feet. I walked into the night, my feet on fire. It felt like they had lost blood flow hours before. I picked up the pace seeming to thrive in the discomfort. In this moment I knew this decision to be out here was a good one. I enjoyed the pain, I knew that this pain would make me stronger. This was my first 30 mile day this go around.

Since leaving Philadelphia I have walked 118 miles in 4 days.

Side Note

I walked through the beautiful country heading into Lancaster, PA. As many call it Amish country. My knowledge of the Amish people and I think I speak for most of us when I say this is purely based off of the movie "Kingpin". They were all so nice and friendly as they passed on their horse carriages and scooter/bike hybrid vehicles. I even saw one driving a car. Even the Amish are dealing with posers.

I have not showered or changed my clothes in 6 days.

Anybody who knows me knows I am afraid of dogs. I think it

has been well documented on here as well. A few weeks back a friends dog bit a hole in my shoe. Dogs bark at me constantly. It's not that I hate them. I just wish they would leave me alone and I would never want one. Generally when I tell people I wouldn't want a dog I am immediately seen as a serial killer. The other day a 60ish year old woman was walking her two small dogs. They would not stop barking as I passed. Once close they both darted towards me shifting the old womans weight and bringing her to the ground. On her back screaming at the two little dogs. I sidestepped the mutts and helped her up and immediately sprinted away. Dogs are lame.