She Moves In Her Own Way

A little while ago I realized I´ve walked over 100km.  I had planned in a rest day for today, but it didn´t exactly work. Yesterday when I set off around 0530, my plan was 20km for Los Arcos and I was the first one to leave my hostel room. I ended up walking an extra 8km past Los Arcos to Torres del Rio just because it felt right and it turned out to be one of the best decisions I had made so far.

I ended up having a dinner amongst 10 people with a combined 4 languages. Only one person knew all 4 moderately well, and the rest of us knew only one or a combination of French, Italian, Spanish and English.  It was surreal switching back and forth seamlessly between the different languages and helping others with translation. I may have been in the English with limited Italian category. We were in a medieval pub-like setting, and at one point the background filled with country music.  Everyone looked at me and shouted, "America!" and sometimes called me "Arizona."  At one point, my friend Raymond asked me how I was and I said I was happy because everyone here seemed happy.  Nothing was lost in translation because all we needed was that. 

Raymond is in a group with two women and one of them, named Anna, always smiles so warmly and hugs me when she sees me even though we have no idea what the other is saying if Raymond isn´t there to translate.  They came from Barcelona and told me very convincingly that I must go one day.  Unfortunately the trip ends for them in Logroño and they had to take a bus from Torres del Rio to there because someone in the group had a foot injury.

After hearing about people already going home because of injuries, or having to see doctors when in Pamplona, I had planned a rest day for myself, but it didn´t work.  I walked 28 instead of 20 past Los Arcos to Torres del Rio, and then I walked 20 instead of 10 to Logroño instead of Viana for the planned rest day.  It was probably the best kind of peer pressure I could hope for.  It´s funny to decide you´re done and plan on stopping and then randomly running into someone you met before who just puts the idea in your head of, "What if you went further?"

I suppose it´s just a matter of limits.  I think everything from physical, mental and emotional limits will be encountered here.  Whether I´m fighting my body to let me go farther and faster, or encouraging myself to take step after step knowing I´ve never walked like this before, or missing someone at home terribly and knowng you´re experiencing an unbelievable journey with the dull ache of being incomplete without them.

I don´t think I want to particularly find my limits, but really just see how I fall within the expecations I have of myself.  I´m racing no one, and just hoping to make it.  There´s no prize at the end, but I´m searching for something profound. I believe in my strength and health, but I still take rocky downhill treks slowly and drink ridiculous amounts of orange juice.  Perhaps I´m planning ahead in case those limits are reached, but regardless, everyday I feel more grateful for my body and want to do everything I can to take care of it and be in one piece for the trip home (which seems so far away!).  Lately it´s the little things, and making it past 20km without any blisters feels like someone just gave me a box of chocolates ;)

--j