Day 21: the effing feather river

Day 21
22 miles
June 25

I hate blisters. More than anything else I can think of. More than spiders. More than evildoers.

Today we went up a huge hill, then down a huge hill, then up another large hill.

Today was the first time I've cried on the trail.

I don't know what's going on with my right foot/leg. My heel is read and enflamed, pain shoots up my leg on every heel strike, and my calf is constantly cramped. I feel as though every day my body is broken down, slightly rebuilt in the night, and then broken down more the next day.

I start to feel as though I'm holding Kacie back. I'm okay on the inclines, but anything even or downhill is killer. And here she is, doing 20 miles every day, like a champ. Wtf?!

Kacie wants to go at least 24 miles today, so we have less of a climb to do tomorrow. It's the last hill, 1 mile to a campsite, 3 miles till our 24 day, and I lose it. Like LOSE it.
I catch up to her as she turns around and the tears start flowing. I'm in too much pain to talk, so we just keep walking until we get to the campsite. I sit down on a log and cry. But it's not a very cathartic cry, and only lasts for a few seconds. I want to cry for hours, but my body is done. We (Kacie) set up camp, and make and eat dinner in the tent to avoid the mosquitoes.
I start to wonder how I'm going to finish this with her specific time table. We go to sleep, and I hate the mess I'm turning into.