Putting the shoes on once again

Ten months later, I took my first solo long-ish walk since the Camino

At 10:30 this morning, I put on my sock liners, pulled on my wool hiking socks, and stepped into my Altra walking shoes. It struck me that I’d not donned that combination since the day I flew home from Lisbon after walking my Camino, over 300 days prior. Those shoes hadn’t even left the bin in the garage since I had returned home. But there was some immediate comfort to that old familiar routine, one I’d carried out each morning for more than two weeks last March. My shoes felt surprisingly comfortable and I was eager to set out on a ~9-mile walk - a duration not in any way impressive; in fact, one around 30% lower than my average daily mileage in Portugal and Spain, and lower than all but one stormy day’s journey while I walked the Camino Portugués. And yet, this was still a milestone, and one that prompted me to write for the first time in three months.

To put it bluntly, the Camino did a little damage to my body. For those who read my trail journal, or perhaps even just what I’d thought would be the final entry in it, you know that my right leg was really acting up. Perhaps I downplayed that a bit, but it was definitely a thing. I was pounding Advil for the second half of my walk, as my trail friends will attest. After some x-rays, MRIs, and an orthopedist consultation, it was decided that it was “just” the very common IT-Band Syndrome, and it would clear up it in time without intervention. While I was relieved by that finding, it’s accurate to say it resulted in limitations to my activity - mostly real, at least for the first few months, though perhaps more recently it was just more a mental block, if I’m being honest.

Admittedly, I had a lot of different emotions about the limitations I had upon returning home, and was regularly frustrated by, and very conscientious about them. My desire to walk the Camino was understandably not met with uniform joy by the family I’d be leaving behind while I was away, and coming back “broken” seemed to me like rubbing salt in that wound. So particularly in those first few months after returning, I hated having to decline hikes of a certain type, or choosing to stay behind at times. I hated those shooting pains in my thigh and initially I even feared I’d done permanent damage, and my bent was to do anything to avoid those feelings. It was really frustrating and while I talked about it in therapy, I now realize I didn’t talk about it nearly enough with loved ones.

Happily, that right leg pain has largely vanished now, though the injury is not fully gone. I still experience numbness in my right thigh after standing too long (like after a busy shift at the tasting room), or following a hike with any decent climbing, and do occasionally feel pain there. However, for the last few months, my left knee has now begun acting up, particularly when walking down stairs or steeper slopes. I’m optimistic that this latest issue is the result of pushing my strength training too hard, increasing weight too quickly and/or overextending range of motion. So I think this will pass. But admittedly it’s still caused me to fear that I’m now somehow “less than” I was just a year ago prior. And that admittedly makes me sad, frustrated, and occasionally angry.

Lorri has been supportive along the way, and of late has been good about reminding me that it’s important for me to get out and walk. I’ve not been good about my former daily morning walk since returning from my trip. Let’s be honest - I’ve barely walked on my own in recent months, and mostly have done so when prompted by my wife or when we meet up with our son at college or when he’s home on break. Recently, I’ve been pushing hard on some programming projects - more on that soon, perhaps - and that’s provided a convenient excuse to shirk the benefits of getting out and walking. But today I woke up and decided to acknowledge Lorri’s nudging and end my bad habits.

If I’m being truthful, I don’t think I’ve walked or hiked much more than five miles in one go since returning from my Camino. And so this morning I decided to resurrect an old favorite “walk with a nice destination” route, a 9-mile round trip where I could stop along the way for some lunch and a beer. The route is largely level, mostly sidewalk/paved, and I thought would be an easy way to test the waters and get in some audiobook time. A route of that duration certainly wouldn’t have a place in my pantheon of “long walks”, but it was a good start. And so that’s just what I did.

The weather was lovely, my walk was good, and my lunch of garlic fries and beer (a true hiking meal!) really hit the spot. I felt strong on my outbound leg and while it was the easier (read: more downhill / flat) route, I was pleased with how it went. That felt really good and I hit my midpoint break in high spirits. I’m also happy to say that while fatigue was certainly building on the return leg of the route, it also went well. I experienced no right leg pain while walking, and only feel a little numbness right now. Perhaps even better, the first real knee pain I felt on the left side was while walking downstairs to let the dog outside after returning home. I definitely consider the walk a success, though of course tomorrow will be the true test of how I’m feeling :)

While the arc of this post wasn’t fully formed after my walk today, I did know that I wanted to get some words down. I’m not pleased with myself that it took so long to get over whatever mental hurdles were holding me back, but I’m happy that I’ve arrived here now. I’m hopeful that this will be the kick-in-the-ass I needed to resume a more regular walking habit, whether that includes more solo long walks or not. It’s good for me, and the head-clearing and thinking time it provides is definitely appreciated even if I don’t realize how much I need it sometimes.

I’ve decided this post also has a place in my Camino journey, and so I’ve tagged it as such. I recall that I really enjoyed writing my last Camino post ten months ago. My walk was a tremendously impactful experience, and my writing seems almost romantic to me when I read it now. This piece is, I hope, a good postlude to my experience, and serves as a useful pairing to that earlier post. I still have many fond memories of my journey, of the friends I made, and all the lovely things I saw and experienced. I treasure having had the opportunity to make that journey, and a recent viewing of my Camino photos with a dear friend has only reinforced that. But like everything else that has come prior, I experienced growth from it, but it was just another chapter in my life. All we truly have is now, and I am only renewed in my desire to return my focus to that important truth.

Be well, friends. I am all-too aware that there is much afoot that troubles many of us, and I hope you are finding comfort and joy wherever you can. Mahalo 🙏