Growing Pains: Physical and Mental

There is so much to learn, on the Camino, and in life itself. To release ego and arrogance, to recognize your own limits of insecurity when you are wounded by someone's words or actions. The art and work of remaining within yourself, of being kind and patient to those around you as much of the time as you can, is a challenge that should consistently be engaged. I am learning that, Camino or no Camino, people are people. There is certainly a sense of euphoria and kinship amongst each other, but you arrive at to the Camino as a fallible human being, and your first steps don't necessitate a dramatic shift in perspective and personality. We all suffer from weaknesses, from not being our best selves at all times. I can see that in my fellow pilgrims as much as I can see it in myself. So I will endeavor, on this Camino, to open my heart to the rock of faith, to solid tenets of goodness. I will pledge my daily spiritual work to hold myself to these principles, no matter what may come on the Camino and in life. Tough stuff.

Kelsey is too cool for words. She is like a sea of calm for me. She is such a good listener, and reads herself so well. I am so utterly grateful that she is my companion on this walk. I am learning so much from the way she approaches life, my connection to her already feels unbreakable.

I naively and, somewhat, arrogantly thought I would walk the Camino with ease and vigor. But it is hard. Plain and simple. After my really stupid (in hindsight) decision to run through the city of Puenta de la Reina's cobblestone streets, my left knee basically said "f*#%k you." Tiger Balm and ibuprofen, I thank you.

Please excuse the crazier than normal hair as I model my new knee brace. Kelsey is sporting a couple if these bad boys too. 

Today, particularly tender as we walked down hill after hill, Kelsey and I observed that we looked like a) deranged ballerinas (on tiptoes and wobbly), b) lurching zombies with peg legs, and c) those giant white robots the ewoks battle in Star Wars. 

Yesterday morning we set our sights on Los Arcos as we departed Estella. Gingerly walking from town, we watched the simultaneous sunrise and moon-set as we crossed open fields. 

Yesterday was like out of the James Taylor song, "Country Road," passing fields of grape vines and leaning towers of hay. I have never experienced life at this pace, only as fast as your body can take you, for so many consecutive days. I have never even walked a day down country roads in the U.S. El Camino is a blessing in so many ways.

The distance to Los Arcos was relatively short, about 21 kilometers, and we arrived around 1. Settling in at the Albergue Municipal, we ran into our Camino friends, already relaxing on the patio. As we passed through town, we had walked through a beautiful and lively square with umbrella shaded tables and cafes. We joined an American couple, Dusty and Michelle, and lazed away a sunny afternoon, complete with hot chocolates and a giant tortilla sandwich for an early dinner. That evening I attended Mass in the stunning cathedral right on the square. 

This is actually in La Viana, but similar to the Church in Los Altos.

As I walked in before the service, I saw a man who appeared to be a pilgrim sitting in the pews. He had a flannel shirt on and cargo pants, and I almost approached him as he stood up. To my surprise he walked towards the alter with authority, disappearing into a side door, and appearing a few minutes later dressed in his robes to deliver the sermon. As the service was delivered in Spanish, with a few pilgrims quietly in the back, unable to respond back in Spanish to the priest, I quietly reflected on my own spirituality. Overcome at one point, I realized my desire for some form of direction. Some guiding principles. Whether it be religious or not, I am opening myself for a path to follow. This I have come to realize in these last few days.  

This morning, Kelsey and I arose very early, at 5, to start our day. It was such a successful day that we have decided to start every long walk day as early. We are slower than a lot of other pilgrims, so it helps to start early when it is cooler and quieter. 

A clutch bridge over a highway rushing with traffic.

Today was our longest and strongest day since day 1. Shielded by a cloudy sky all morning, and perfecting our imperfect hobble, we walked 28 kilometers to Logono in the heart of Spain's wine country. Momentously, we also passed the 100 mile marker of our walk. Stopping in the town of La Viana for our daily (sometimes twice daily) cafe con leche and tortilla, it feels we are truly assimilating into Camino life.

As we rolled into Logrono, an hour before we had anticipated, walking the last 6 kilometers on the worst material possible for your feet, concrete, we arrived at the Albergue Municipal as they were giving the last bed to another pilgrim. Unable to dim our happiness at the day we went on to Albergue Check In, and were greeted with our most luxurious albergue experience yet. Private bathrooms! A dormitory flooded in natural light and relatively stink-free! Yes and yes!

Today, Kelsey made a major Camino decision. We are throwing the schedule out the window. To make her deadline of 15 October, we would have to compress the already aggressive 26 recommended days remaining into 22. I don't think our knees would be able comply. This looming decision has been weighing heavily on Kelsey for days, and already within minutes of making this executive decision, her shoulders seem lighter. And not only are we giving the Camino schedule to God, but we will also be able to walk to Finisterre together instead of going our separate ways in Santiago. Perfect.

Wandering the festive streets of Logono (there actually is a festival going on) we ducked into the central cathedral to catch a bit of the Mass. My knee started to stiffen sitting in the pews so we continued on our way to a dinner of pintxos, which for my vegetarianism, turned out to be a bunch of fried cheese. I may need to chill on these from here on out. Indulging in some gelato in celebration of 100 miles, we watched a group of street performers in the main square posture around to loud music and make as if they were about to complete some acrobatic feats. Despite the massive crown gathered, they mostly seemed to be doing a bunch of head stands and elaborate stretches. Eating our gelato, listening to Gnarls Barkley, and watching a bunch of shirtless men, I could only comment "we are on a pilgrimage right now," and laugh.

Tomorrow, another day of what I love: walking.