Eighteen Days!!!

I looked at the calendar this morning. It's the third of June. My baby cousin, Crystal's, 36th birthday. Man, she's old. Thirty-six? Lawd. I sent her a box of Depends and a case of cheaters. Then I realized something even more mind-blowing...

I leave for Ireland in eighteen days!!!! You realize that's less than two weeks, right? At least it was the last time I checked. OMG. (I actually dislike the whole text language trend, but thought I'd give it a whirl.) Eighteen days?

This is exciting and scary all at the same time. Exciting because, well duh. Do I need to spell it out for you? I'm heading off to The Motherland, alone, to walk 136 miles around The Kerry Way, then renting a car to revisit Minard Castle (with which I'm having a love affair) and then to Mayo to hang with some dead people and hopefully some live ones, too. The scary part is that since going back to work full-time, I've walked ZERO miles. None. Nada. Zilch. NADFM (Not a damn freakin' mile.) That's not so good, especially when you consider that my first day's hike will be fifteen miles.

Oh, that's gonna blow. Actually, it'll be rough but it'll be the following days of nineteen and twenty miles that'll really get me. One long walk out of the blue is doable...it's the day after day that makes your body scream at you. Oh well, there's nothing to be done about it. Suck it up, Buttercup! That's what it's all about. Doing something over-the-top that you didn't think you could do. (Except that I know I can.)

So, how do I spend the next two and a half weeks? Not training, that's for sure. It's time to contact each of my B&Bs, pubs, and farms that I've booked and confirm my arrival dates. MFAC. (My fingers are crossed.) Hopefully, I didn't make any bonehead mistakes whilst booking last January. It's easy to do when booking a different night in a different village for ten or eleven nights. I never stay anywhere long enough to get bored...or too comfy.

I'll drag my worn out carcass into town late in the afternoon on most days, find my accommodations, leave my boots and gaitors (water-proof things that cover from the knee to the top of the boot) at the door, find my room, shower, and head to the pub for a few pints and dinner. My favorite Irish pub meals include chicken and mushroom pie, creamy tomato basil soup and a bread board, fish and chips, grilled sandwiches and chips, and fresh seafood. After another pint or two, I'll limp to my room (sitting for any length of time after a long walk results in hips and knees that refuse to cooperate), blog about the day's events, and fall asleep with the windows open. There's nothing like burrowing under a warm, down quilt while chilly Irish breezes whip about the room. In the morning, I'll stagger down to brekky, which will always include coffee (I never drink it anywhere else) and toast slathered with fresh Kerry Butter. (When I die, I want my ashes mixed with Kerry Butter and then have the whole mess wiped on the walls of Minard Castle. I'm trusting you to see to that.) Then a quick pack-up and I'm off, heading for a new village...over several mountain shoulders, across a few streams, and usually several boggy peat beds that make me want to yank out my hair. Good times.

Just yesterday, I ordered the three OSI (Ordinance Survey Ireland) maps I'll need to navigate the Way. They show detailed landscape information and elevation and are printed on water-resistant paper. Note: They are not waterproof. Don't ask me how I know this. It's a sad story. Anyhooooo, I bought the maps and they should be here next week. The only task remaining is learning how to actually use them. And a compass. I still don't know how, which is problematic because I won't have my favorite navigator with me to save my sorry ass. (Lauren is better with that sort of thing, but she will be in DC and NYC being a teenager.) I plan to figure it out on the plane. What else would I do for that long?

So, there you have it. In eighteen days, I'll set off for the two hour trip to Miami International (Hell on Earth) where I'll do a three hour flight to JFK. I'll sit there for three more hours before taking off for the Emerald Isle. If I remember correctly, it's about six hours to Dublin. From there, I'll find a lift to the train station and catch the 11am to Killarney. I'll arrive three-and-a-half hours later with time to explore before finding a pub for an early dinner and few pints. I've no doubt I'll sleep well that night...unless I'm too excited about the first day's walk.

IHGJTAI. (I have goosebumps just thinking about it.)