The most beautiful view in England. Painted by Turner. View from Richmond Hill over River Thames.

T minus 14 (days) to my camino.

I walked out to Richmond Park today with a friend.  She likes walking and walked 50km on the Thames Towpath challenge a couple of years ago.  She had asked me then to join her on her long fundraising walk. I, of course, scoffed and said “I’m not a walker”.  Famous last words …

So when she suggested we go out today, how can I refuse? After all, I’ve now taken on walking 1,000 km.  (I’ve basically rounded up my camino distance to 1,000 km.  It’s a lot easier than saying 820 km, but 900 km if I walk on to Finisterre.  Too confusing. 1,000 km is a number people can remember easily.)  The day turned out to be quite beautiful, albeit very blustery.  We were either pushed along at a rapid pace or had to push hard against the wind.   

  

 View of Richmond Hill from Richmond Bridge.

Today, I took my poles out for a practice run to get into the rhythm of it.  Overall, happy with the pace and the natural way I am now using the sticks.  Plus, I do find them super useful on uneven terrain.  It’s like having an extended arm that tells me what the ground surface level is like.

All in all, a good day, but I came home 3 hours later somewhat exhausted.  

How will I do this day after day for twice as long (never mind the kms)?  A fear struck in me.  What if, having told everyone I’m doing the Camino, I suddenly decide on the Camino that I’m not going to finish?  Eeeks!  NOT GOING TO HAPPEN. NOT GOING TO HAPPEN.  But a tiny voice pushes through with “what if”? 

Suddenly, the enormity of the task ahead looms very large, and I feel intimidated by the venture I have taken on.  I feel the endlessness of the journey. And I haven’t even begun.