Thought it was time to get connected to my new walking boots. I’d been told I had to break it in for the Camino. I felt reluctant. They were new. Don’t like using new things. It makes them old. Crazy idea. But there you go. I am an illogical human being.
They looked huge on my feet. Like big stumps. I couldn’t feel the bend in the heel-toe action in quite the same way as normal shoes. Stomp. Stomp. Stomp. All the way down to the shops. I feel them each way. I felt a few inches taller. I felt the boots. Don’t think I’m meant to feel the boots. All the time, as I walked to the shops, I was thinking I was to walk 10 times this distance. Maybe 20. I have no idea. I just have to walk very far.
But my desire is not to go very fast. My desire is to go slow. To breathe it in, to take it in. To go only as fast as I can go. To not put pressure on myself. To not have expectations. No judgment. I am tired of the judgment. I do what I can, and it’s okay. It’s a test of endurance, not speed.
With each step, the boots becomes old. With each step, is a step closer to something new.