"Hiking" the appalachian Trail - Post Surgery

I just -*GASP* - hiked (read: Walked) for FIFTEEN -*wheeze*- minutes! *cough cough cough* on the Appalachian trail. Water! I need water!

Okay, so I just finished PT, I haven't exercised in like, ever, so I've been walking 10 minutes a day (or 10 minutes on the days when I can squeeze it in between all my sitting around)and today I pushed myself a little bit further on the AT near my house. Hiking the entire AT has been a dream of mine for several years. Only a dream, because my common sense kicks in whenever I start to think I'll ever actually do it. A woman should not hike the trail alone, and the only man I can think of who would *think* of hiking it with me is a massive baby about bugs, dirt and no showers, so it's not gonna happen, until my nephew (who just turned 7) is old enough to go with me and protect me. By then I'll be preparing for my total knee replacement surgery.
Bill Bryson wrote a wonderful book, A Walk in the Woods It was hilarious, educational and inspiring. Inspiring, because Bill brought his old HS buddy (who he hadn't seen in years) along with him. The guy had nothing better to do, which is why he went along. He was overweight, had never exercised a day in his life, and had a backpack full of twinkies when he started. And he made it half way through the trail! There is hope for people like me. I've been watching I Shouldn't Be Alive on Netflix. I normally hate TV, but I heard about this show years ago - from a pastor at a church I was visiting, and I immediately knew I wanted to see it. I <3 survival stories, ever since reading Lost on a Mountain in Maine when I was a kid. It has also been a dream of mine to be on that show some day. I fear that the worst that would happen to me on the AT is what happened to that guy who Bill Bryson wrote about - the one who was a legend on the trail because he had been hiking it for years and just kept going around in circles. Apparently a very difficult thing to do. And I don't think I want that on TV.

Who knows that tomorrow may bring. I may get off my butt and learn how to use a gun, and then hike the trail, armed. With a pistol and some Twinkies.