Pain

Anyone who writes about their experience on the Camino must include pain.  Pain becomes a natural part of the story whether anyone intends it or not. 

I admit, some pain was expected — tired feet, sore calves, sciatica, stiff hips, tired shoulders. 

A deeper fatigue showed up on Day 5 when my body realizes this wasn’t just a “nice walk.”

Something different occurred on this trip— I woke up sore, convinced that I couldn’t possibly walk another day… but I continue on—-so far I’ve logged 118 miles on the Camino.

Basic creature comforts become the daily focus on the Camino.   

• A dry, warm bed
• A hot shower
• Coffee
• Friends
• A friendly face along the way
• Dry shoes
• Happy feet

Pain has been a blessing.  It forced me to slow down enough to notice things I would normally miss — church bells in a tiny village, birds singing in symphony, animals in the farm fields, flowers in bloom, the smell of evergreen trees, conversations with strangers who somehow stop feeling like strangers.

And maybe that’s part of why people keep walking.  Not because it’s painless.  Because it isn’t.  The Camino lesson on pain:  discomfort is temporary, but quitting stays with you forever.

Sometimes the physical pain gets mixed into something deeper ——   grief,  fear,  aging,  regret,  loneliness,
change,  or maybe just proving to yourself that you still can. 

They say that the Camino rarely gives you the walk you imagined.  Instead, it gives you the walk you need.  That thought has been one I’ve considered daily as the miles go by.  

My arrival into Santiago de Compostela will be the final realization that I carried myself farther than I thought possible. What a walk it has been.