AJ's mention of zoing out on the trail inspired me though. I too, am a trail zoner. Now that I am at least reasonably used to the rigors of walking up and down mountains all day, I have some space in my head to do more than breathe loudly and rapidly.
On the uphill sections, I always get a short bit of music stuck in my head which I repeat, in time with my breathing, like an inescapable mantra. The content is widely varied. I have had God Rest Ye Merry Gentleman, the kids song that goes "Mares eat oats and does eat oats and little lambs eat ivy. A kid will eat ivy too, Wouldn't you?," and various pop songs, which have temporarily eluded my memory.
On the flats and downhils, however, I think about all sorts of things. Often times I think about what it would be like to live in New York City. Will I be able to do laundry in the basement of my building, or do they not do that over there? What food would I buy? Would I buy it online at Freshdirect.com? Maybe I could put it in my pack and walk through the busy streets of NYC carrying all my groceries like a hiker! What shoes will I wear? Will I start wearing fancy clothes? Could I realistically save money by taking extra condiment packets and stuffing my pockets with toilet paper when opportunities present themselves? (Condiment packets and toilet paper are hot commodities on the trail, you see). These thoughts have led to many miles of satisfying plans and wonderings.
Other times, I focus on the details of what will happen in the fall. Which days would be good candidates for doctor's appointments? Career development center appointments? I'm taking half my classes off campus next semester, which will require me to pack sandwiches for lunch three days a week, so a have spent a good deal of time plotting delicious combinations that could be achieved by taking advantage of both the deli and salad bars in the Mount Holyoke Dining Halls. The trail has given me a new appreciation of sandwiches.The final category of my thoughts are far flung what-if scenarios. After the incidents with the annoying sections hiker "bros" and their SUV (which left me furious for a largly unknown reason, especially since I usually feel sad or annoyed in situations that leave others angry) I spent a full afternoon fantasizing about finding them at the next shelter site, giving them a piece of my mind (with many alternate scripts) and having one of them punch me in the face, possibly knocking out one of my teeth or breaking my jaw. This turn of events would unleash two exciting things to think about: AJ trying to control the bleeding in the woods, and my trip to the hospital via Virginia ambulance and the possibility of a later court case over the assault. I realize that this all sounds incredibly stupid and far fetched now, but on the trail it was truly absorbing. We never saw the Bros again, though. And I bet I wouldn't have said anything to them if we had. And even if I had said something to them (in my head it was along the lines of "Excuse me sir? Could you do me a favor?" "Sure" "Please be quiet and have some respect for the fact that some of us have a long WALK planned for tomorrow") I am pretty sure that they wouldn't have hit me.
So, perhaps the trail is making me crazy, but it is often satisfying to allow my mind to wander, even if it does tend to revert back to food or completely improbable events. The one problem with my coping mechanism is that I walk on auto pilot. I have come within three feet of walking into an oncoming hiker and just about walked past a deer standing fewer than 10 feet off the trail (deer are very easy to see, and there is no excuse for not noticing one so close by, especially since they walk and eat very loudly). A bear or rattlesnake would be much easier to miss, especially for the mentally absent, and for this reason, I try to keep myself much more focused on my surroundings whenever I'm walking in front.
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