I woke to a cool morning fog at Laurel Shelter on the Pinhoti Trail, the kind that clings to everything and slows the world down. The plan for the day was an easy ten miles to Lower Shoals Shelter. But when a friend canceled our meet-up in Heflin the next day, I thought, “Why not run a marathon into town?”
Twenty-four miles felt like nothing at this point.
I’d started this trail at my lowest, but now every step felt like a celebration. A few bars of cell service and a good conversation with friends reminded me just how lucky I am to be here, alive, and moving forward.
Heflin came highly recommended as a trail town, and it lived up to the hype. I celebrated with reckless abandon: a large pizza, several liters of Coke, a half-gallon of milk, and a large assortment of snacks that felt like small treasures. I resupplied and decided to zero at the 8 Acorns Hostel when I saw rain in the forecast.
That day off was more than just rest, it was a reset. With friends helping me sort out logistics and boost my spirits, I felt gratitude swelling beyond what I thought I could carry. Heflin’s small-town charm and hiker-friendly vibes made it hard to leave, but the trail remained, and the excitement lies in the unfolding unknown.
Highs or lows, every single moment feels like a miracle.
Thank you TJ 
#pinhotitrail