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.