Day 25 on the Camino Way

Today was a day filled with so many different experiences. It was a day with incredible beauty, vistas over mountains and valleys, so very beautiful. Of course, pictures can’t come close to the real thing. Early this morning we picked up an Italian young woman named Camilla. She spoke such lovely English with the Italian accented ”a” at the end of words. It was dark when she walked past us. Then, still dark, she’d be waiting up ahead for us to come. We thought she needed the light. But it turned out that she was frightened being alone in the dark and thought an old couple like us would be safe.

We are safe Camilla! She walked along side Sally for over an hour. I tagged along. It was she who after taking a panoramic photo said, ”I know this won’t look as beautiful as it is, but it’s still good to do.” I wish I could figure out how to write it the way she actually said it, but no matter, she’s right.

Stop, stand and just look

We did a lot of stopping and standing and looking today. And we also did a lot of slipping and sliding. This was by far the most treacherous hike of our walk. We had a choice of which route we wanted, the easier or more difficult. We chose the more difficult because we knew we would not be happy if we didn’t. And it was tough.

Sally’s Bad Shoes

It was far worse than what any of our pictures show. The tread on Sally’s shoes is seriously worn down. We worried most about her, and as it turned out for good reason. She did fall, but thankfully she was carrying the backpack and fell backwards on the pack. Therefore no hit on the head which would have happened otherwise and would have been a serious injury.

Here’s an aside to that. There was a gentleman walking behind her when she fell. He sidestepped around her without looking at her or giving an attempt to help. No gentleman after all!

Pain

I’ve gained a new respect and admiration for people who live with chronic pain. When we prepared for this adventure we did 18 and 19 mile training hikes—but not every day. I had no pain. Now the pain starts around mile two and gradually gets worse as the day wears on. Sally and I are now trading off carrying the pack every two miles. She wants to carry it more, but we’ve already experienced the negative affects on her when she does, so that’s not an option.

Look, I can handle pain. My family will attest to that. But constant pain, that’s a totally difference kind of experience. You are distracted by it, for one thing. At times I have to remind myself to lift my head and appreciate what’s around me and who I’m with at the moment. I’m constantly trying to adjust my breathing—if I deepen my breaths that helps. But I have to remind myself to do that. If I move my right elbow out just a bit while trekking, that helps. But it’s not a natural movement and I have to concentrate to make it my rhythm.

Not About Me Please

I want to share this with you not for sympathy to my pain. I know you care about me and that this bothers you. Thank you. There are so many people who live every day of their lives with pain—I know some of them, but others are silently suffering. And I’m not only thinking of physical pain, but the pain of chronic depression and anxiety. People are sad and that’s pain too. Folks struggle with mental illness, debilitating inner turmoil.

And these good people are so brave and resilient and so NOT weak! It takes grit and unyielding determination to walk through every day, doing your very best to perform and finish tasks, some as daunting as getting up a flight of stairs, or getting out of bed.

No Sympathy Please

Don’t feel sorry for folks living with pain. Feel empathy, maybe. Folks who are in pain all the time just want you to allow them to slow down when they need to without judgement. Wait for them to catch up. Early in our trip we had three friends with us. I was struggling and told them they did not have to wait for us—just go ahead. Then we’d come over a hill or around a bend in the trail, and there they’d be—Bob, Susanne and Leanne waiting for us to come to them.

That’s grace, I think. More of that please.

Buen Camino!