Listening To The Body . . .

Posted on August 25, 2013 by Woodswoman

August 25, 2013 – 11:46 p.m.

Well, I have three days until my departure, and the packing is winding down.  I’ll write a list at some point, but now I’m paying attention to little signs that my body is testing me temporarily.

1.  I’m beginning to get a sore throat.  Neil presented me with a bottle of Echinacea and a spray Zicam container.  I’ve begun “the cure”, making sure this new symptom learns that it will not throw me off my course.

2.  My daughter and son-in-law went bowling with us yesterday, because I had two Living Social Deals for Chipper Lanes.  Now I haven’t been bowling in 30 years, and though this morning I felt fine, tonight my knees and thighs feel as though I’ve been beaten up.  This too shall pass.

3.  I’m exhausted much of the time.  This might be the result of my inability to sleep at all  until about 3:00 a.m., thinking, re-packing in my head, getting up to send just one more e-mail so I won’t forget it in the morning, etc.

I am happy to report this: I’m very aware of the fact that once I board IcelandAir, none of the above will matter.  My plans this past twenty months will finally “beam me up, Scotty” to the journey that will take me who knows where over the next seven or eight weeks.  Ah, of course I know where I’ll be geographically, but physically, emotionally, yes, even spiritually, I’ll be in outer space.  Just. Where. I. Want. To. Be.

Posted in Ailments, Body readiness, Camino de Santiago, Preparation, What Goes on in the Mind | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 9 Comments

Nine Days, Nine Days, Nine Days

Posted on August 19, 2013 by Woodswoman

Is it possible that I have only a smidge more than a week before I will be off to Spain?  My return late last week from a road trip to Vermont left me exhausted, relieved to be home with so little time until my big departure, and scrambling to remember everything I have to do before I go.  And I cannot find my favorite hat . . . I’ve lost it once and found it, but now it’s hiding again.  If I buy another one exactly like it, the original will jump out of some corner or another and with its thumbs in its ears will shout, “Na na na na NA na!”  Please, favorite hat, please come back to the table so I can take you with me.  And cross “finding hat” off my list.

And taxes . . . ah, now there is a challenge.  I think I’d rather walk from Colorado to Spain than gather my tax information each year.  Why don’t I do this a month at a time instead of having to tax (no pun intended) my brain trying to make sure I have all the expenses from the year 2012 at my fingertips?  I can never come up with a proper answer, but suffice it to say that by Wednesday afternoon, that task will be crossed off my list.

Though my plane ticket was one-way, I now have a return . . . from Lisbon.  I hope I will have enough energy to explore some of Portugal as planned.  At least I know I won’t have to swim home.

Saturday was tax-prep-avoidance day.  With my daughter and another near-family member visiting from other parts of Colorado, I wandered up and down, to and from the basement where the pool table awaited with the piles of clothing and supplies I will, might, won’t take with me.  Sorting through again, the “don’t take” pile is getting larger, leaving me with some hope that I can fit the “must take” items into my backpack and still be able to pick it up.

One excellent suggestion from a friend will allow me to leave my Kindle at home.  I have several Camino resources on the Kindle and thought I needed it, but dear M.A. suggested that since I’m going to be writing on my MacBook Air, I might think about downloading a Kindle app to the Air, thus eliminating the need for the Kindle at all.  I tried it, and WAZAA!  Works like a charm.  Downloading my e-books to the app was so simple, and I have just eliminated perhaps a pound of weight from the stack.

The supplies that will diminish as I move along the Camino are my daily pills and foot pads.  What will not diminish is my commitment to what is ahead of me.  This weekend, my daughter cautiously commented, “You’re not going to push yourself too hard each day, are you?  You will stop when you are tired, yes?”  Yes, beloved daughter, I will stop when I’m tired.  Perhaps soak my feet in a stream, take a small nap, put my socks and shoes on again, and walk just a bit more.

Letting GoAnd each day will be each day, one after the other.  I await the unfolding surprises with patience and slow breath.  Perhaps September and October will be the most peaceful months of my life.

Nine days . . .                                                                                nine days . . .                                                                              nine days . . .

Posted in Camino de Santiago, Preparation, Spain, Staying open, What Goes on in the Mind, Women Walking | Tagged , , , , , , | 9 Comments

Twenty-four Days and Counting . . .

Posted on August 4, 2013 by Woodswoman

As I look ahead to my last week in Vermont for this summer, my thoughts are drawn toward the upcoming departure date for Spain.  I brought so much work with me to Stone Walls, and haven’t gotten nearly enough done, though I still have four full days to eat the elephant.  But walking around the countryside with a 15-lb pack, six miles at a time, keeps my legs and my mind moving.  I was surprised (relieved, amazed) to notice that after a few miles, I had no real awareness of the pack and its weight.  Please hope my slightly heavier Camino pack will settle onto my torso in just this way, becoming part of me.

Merrimack River Path

Merrimack River Path

During the past few days, my faithful old Golden Retriever, Marley (long before the book, by the way) and I visited a few friends in the northeast Massachusetts area.   I was in Lowell/Westford with Gloria, my college roommate, and we walked along the Merrimack River.  We were hindered a bit by Marley’s ability to move his old body only about a mile before he just slows to molasses speed, so it wasn’t a long walk, but again, it keeps the joints greased . . . mine and his.

Next stop was Newburyport, a lovely ocean-side community where a long-time friend is staying for awhile, so the walking plan here was two-fold . . . trudging across the sandy beaches in shimmering sunlight, and meandering about the town, in and out of shops, perusing merchandise at the hundreds of street and sidewalk markets, celebrating some Yankee event.  There was even a parade today, though we left that behind to stroll on the waterfront where the bigger boats come and go.

Marley and Me . . . the Merriman way . . . at Rye Beach

Marley and Me . . . the Merriman way . . . at Rye Beach

There is nothing like a 75 degree day, blue sky with clouds that resemble enormous cotton balls, breeze blowing and the view and smell of the ocean/bays to lift one’s spirits.  While we left Marley at the house for our shopping spree, he surely loved walking and napping on the sand at Rye Beach with “Mom”.

Again, the walking isn’t Camino style, but I consider that everything I’m doing every day, good or bad, is contributing to the voyage ahead of me.  So I’m trying to breathe through each minute, and contemplate the last preparations, as well as some of the challenges that come to me on a regular basis.  Attempting to avoid upheaval of any sort is difficult, especially when calm is an essential part of the plan. A trip like this seems to engender little monsters, just to test one!  Ah, well, I’ll have plenty of time to think about those monsters out on the walk, yes?

Speaking of last minute preparations:  I’m making (another) list . . . finish sorting out music for my iPod; be sure to gather all my meds and supplements organized into tiny zip-lock bags; sew one or two neck coolers, with the little gel beads inside that soak up cold water at the beginning of the day and distribute the coolness through a fabric “scarf” around the neck;  make sure my newly purchased (and smaller) Swiss Army knife gets into the backpack; spray my sleeping bag, its cover and sleep sack with Permethrin, a bed bug preventative (already purchased).  Sounds creepy, this last one, doesn’t it? Somehow not as creepy as the bedbugs themselves!

I’m sure there will be a few more details, but I’m nearly finished with everything but the final loading into my backpack.

Two months away from home, away from Neil, from my furry and human family members, and from the chaos of daily life in the U.S. . . . How will the walk change who I am?  What changes will I face when I arrive back on the home front?  Can I not think about those queries until I complete my journey?  I have a feeling that all questions (except an occasional, “What was I thinking???”) will disappear on the first day.  For 1000 km. there will be plenty of other things to keep my mind and body occupied, though I’m hoping for some vacant brain spaces.

Tomorrow is scheduled to be a sunny, 72-degree day in southern Vermont.  Now back to the “real” walking, pack and all.

Posted in Body readiness, Camino de Santiago, Preparation, Rye Beach, Staying open, What Goes on in the Mind, Women Walking | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Your Camino begins the moment you decide to go

Posted on July 24, 2013 by Woodswoman

July 24, 2013

I may have read that on Ilona Freid’s website, alacartespirit.wordpress.com, or perhaps it was a line from the one of the many other Camino peregrinos whose work I’ve perused.

One way or another, though I just read these words a few weeks ago, they struck me so hard.  On one level, it never occurred to me that I would be any different until I boarded the flight for Paris via Iceland on August 28.  Maybe not until I took my first step on the Camino or entered my first village church or treated and bandaged my first set of blisters.  But certainly I had begun immediately to haunt the back room of REI for the super sale items I might need.  Certainly, I had visited REI every weekend until I found a pack that fit me properly, aided by Chad, my backpack guru . . . finally purchasing a Gregory Sage 55L pack.  Boots, trail runners, sleeping bag, clothing that weighs nothing and dries in a slight breeze. Hiking poles that close up shorter than the ones I already had.  A lightweight vest that turns into a neck pillow at night (seriously!).

I hadn’t walked through REI’s doors for perhaps twenty years, but suddenly my mind seemed to hover over Camino possibilities nearly daily, and I found myself turning into the REI parking lot (adjacent to another dangerous store . . . Barnes and Noble) at least   twice a week.  Slowly my “Camino pile” stacked itself higher and higher.

I also began to think my usual thoughts in an unusual way (for me).  Thinking about what journal I might take entailed attributes never before necessary . . . size, weight of paper and cover, type of paper for the easiest pens I might find.  And oh, pens.  Let us not forget pens.  I am a fountain pen whore.  Within the past couple of years, I have purchased perhaps two dozen fountain pens of various brands, colors, qualities, point width, with at least a dozen colors of ink, some of which I mix to make a more pleasing color not readily available in a pen store.

But alas, a fountain pen is not practical on the Camino . . . carrying that loose ink, rinsing the ink charger and the point, taking everything apart so the components won’t dry out.  No, no, no, a fountain pen is for civilization, not for a walk across an entire country.  So my next favorite is a Pilot Rollerball V-5 or V-7.  But they tend to explode when traveling long distances on an airplane.  Something about the difference in pressure.  A mess, quite often, as I have learned over the years.

Ultimately, I bought a pack of multi-colored Pilot G2 pens, with a dozen refills of each color.  Of course I can’t carry all of those either, but as I write this I realize how MUCH my Camino began as soon as I decided to go.In retrospect, I’m beginning to get the picture, as they say.

Surprisingly, Walgreen’s has been another major contributor to my Camino supply.  Foot pads of all sorts are available in the back right corner of my local Walgreen’s, and I have been unwrapping perhaps 50 packets of the various toe and foot bone protectors I’ve found most useful.  Ever conscious of even the weight of cellophane packaging in the scheme of assembling a backpack that I can carry fairly easily . . . that is certainly new.

I have my lists, and am checking them twice.  My pool table is covered with stacks of items to take with me.  A pile for “definitely yes”, one for “most likely”, one for “perhaps” and one for “NAH, maybe not . . . .“  When I return from my Vermont trip in three weeks, it will be time to pack carefully and weigh everything, holding my breath as I view the results.  This will be the last carefully planned part of my journey.  From the time I get to my starting village, St. Jean Pied-de-Port, I hope I will be plan-less . . . but for putting one foot in front of the other and keeping my eyes, ears, nostrils and skin ready to receive whatever comes.

And I think of an old, favorite quote – from Richard Ford’s book The Sportswriter. . . . perhaps this will be my slogan for the Camino, if “slogan” isn’t too sacrilegious a term.  I have great respect for the Camino and for my journey on it, but “relige” . . . not in my thoughts.  Ah, well, perhaps nothing is sacrilegious for a heathen such as I.

“You have only to let yourself in for it. You can never know what’s coming next. Always there is the chance it will be – miraculous to say – something you want.“

IMG_1423_0204

Posted in Camino de Santiago, Equipment, Preparation, Spain, Staying open, What Goes on in the Mind, Women Walking | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 12 Comments

High-altitude training walks . . .

Posted on July 1, 2013 by Woodswoman

July 1, 2013 – Only two months before I begin my Camino, in St. Jean Pied-de-Port, on the French-Spanish border.  As each day is clicked off the calendar, I am both more excited and more frightened than I was the day before.  It’s after midnight and I’ve been on the Camino forums for the past 90 minutes, sopping up experiences of pilgrims who have gone before me.  My biggest decision at this point is whether I will risk the hardest day of the journey on Day 1, going from SJPP over the Pyrenees to Roncesvalles, or whether I will stop after 8-10 km and stay in Orisson, making the 28km trek in two days, rather than one.

The advice is endless, of course, from tales of jubilation for having survived the whole first bit in one day, to stories of walking, sobbing, stiff and sore, practically falling up and then down the mountain.  I cannot know what is the best thing for me, but my good friend Jacques urges me to hedge my bets and reserve a bed in Orisson.  After agonizing for the past year about this, I am convinced I must do this so I will have an option as I make my way UP the mountain.  I have just sent an e-mail requesting information for the night of September 1.  My mother would have been 92 on the day I begin, and I smile as I imagine her floating near me as I trudge.

Yesterday, we returned from nearly a month at “the cabin”, my partner Neil’s family mountain cabin outside Ouray, Colorado, the Switzerland of the Rockies.

View from our cabin porch

View from our cabin porch

Lake Lenore, Ouray, Colorado

Lake Lenore, outside Ouray, Colorado

Nestled in the San Juan Mountains, the cabin is an opportunity for us to completely relax, read on the old log porch, take our Golden Retriever down to the lake, and walk or hike to our hearts’ content.

This summer, I have my upcoming Camino in mind, so I found numerous opportunities to take training hikes in a most spectacular setting.  It is both exhilarating and disheartening to be active in these mountains.  It isn’t the walking/hiking that gets to me; however, beginning at over 8000 feet of altitude and going UP from there quite literally takes my breath away, in addition to the breathtaking views all around me as I go along.  I remind myself that my camino will be very different, in ways both advantageous and disadvangateous to my mind and body.  Lower altitude, but approximately seven weeks of walking 12-18 miles per day, and sleeping in rooms with anywhere from four to one hundred fifty other trekkers!  Still, training is training, and I am quite happy to report that I get no hotspots or blisters with either my trail runners or my hiking boots.  A most important confirmation that my shoes are well-fitting, well-made, well-broken in.

So a hike up the mine road to scatter Luna’s ashes,  then to Jackass Flats near the cabin with our friend Jacques for a beautiful afternoon hike.

Jackass Flats - near Ouray, Colorado

Jackass Flats – near Ouray, Colorado

One day an attempt to get to the Amphitheater above Ouray, and on another, a steep walk up to an old mining railroad bed.

On the Railroad hike (not it's official name), you can see one of the magnificent red mountains

On the Railroad hike (not it’s official name), you can see one of the magnificent red mountains

Old mine railroad crosspieces near Red Mountain Pass

Old mine railroad crosspieces near Red Mountain Pass

The old railroad turnaround on our hike near Red Mountain Pass

The old railroad turnaround on our hike near Red Mountain Pass

You can see the old cross-pieces, as well as the turn-around at the top.  (I caught the back of Neil’s tall body in the corner of the turnaround photo.)  My altimeter app didn’t even work on that hike, since we were already quite near Red Mountain Pass, and there was no service at all! The last altitude measurement I took before I lost service was just about 11,000 feet.  I was just a bit out of breath here and there . . . Beautiful, though.

When I’ve done these “little day hikes”, near the cabin, I am carrying nothing but a small fanny pack, and the heaviest thing in it is the water I require.  On my Camino, I will have a twenty pound pack, so that will be much more difficult.  However, I keep asking myself, “Isn’t a four-hour hike at 11,000 feet the equivalent of an eight-hour hike at 2000 feet?”  I certainly hope so.

Posted in Body readiness, Camino de Santiago, Colorado, Hiking the San Juans, Preparation, Red Mountain Pass, Spain, What Goes on in the Mind, Women Walking | Tagged , , , , , , , | 8 Comments

Half a Camino distance day . . . almost!

Posted on June 1, 2013 by Woodswoman

On Memorial Day, my college roommate, Gloria, and I (of course now more than four decades older) walked the Bolder Boulder.  I haven’t participated in that lovely mob scene for twenty years, but Gloria and her husband were visiting us from Boston and it seemed like a challenging thing to do, especially given my Camino start date of September 1.

Bolder-Boulder-1-561x421Neil and Alan drove us down, dropped us off, and navigated the Boulder traffic until they found a hole-in-the-wall bagel place on the Hill.  We queued up at the start position, along with a total of nearly 49,000 other walkers and runners, and prepared to enjoy a most beautiful morning meandering throughout the streets of Boulder.  I had my ear buds and iPod, loaded up with my favorite “walking paced” music, and kept the volume low, so the beat would almost unconsciously move me forward, without disturbing the thoughts in my head or my impressions of the environment as my legs carried me through.

Two hours later, Neil and Alan met us inside Folsom Field after we finished our 10K walk.  Gloria was 9 minutes ahead of me, since I lollygagged a bit more along the way.  In that two hours, Gloria and I were treated to all manner of live music in driveways, on street corners, in parking lots.  We also thoroughly enjoyed the belly dancers, Irish dancers, hip-hop dancers, as well as marveling at the costumed fellow-walkers who surrounded us!  Each kilometer, each mile marker, was noted overhead with a marker banner, and at about 3/4 of the way through the distance, we reached the altitude summit:

Bolder Boulder Summit 2013 -" Sea Level is for Sissies"

Bolder Boulder Summit 2013 – “Sea Level is for Sissies”

I found that I was most grateful for all the Boulder residents who stood at the end of their driveways with hoses, spraying our too-warm bodies.  At each “water station”, I stood with my back to the spray, while the “hoser” moved up and down, soaking me from head to toes . . . until the next soaker down the block could add to my relief by doing it all over again.

This little Memorial Day adventure reminded me yet again that my Camino de Santiago trip is a perfect one for me.  I love to walk, love to watch the clouds, trees, and the people around me, while still maintaining my little bubble of solitude.   Granted, I had no twenty pound pack on my back, and didn’t walk for six or eight hours, day after day, on this 10K.  But I did confirm that my body held up, no blisters, no hot spots, and only some foot-fatigue when it was all said and done.

Bolder-Boulder-24-237x421At the finish line, well within Folsom Field, the throngs cheered all of us.  LED signs flashed “SMILE – CAMERAS AHEAD” and we did smile, not only for the cameras, but for a job well-done.

Unfortunately, the “camera” crew then sent each of us an e-mail, offering to let us have our photos for, oh, $54.95.  Yikes!  I think I’ll just savor the memories in my head, rather than in print.

The Bolder Boulder allowed me to check off a two-hour walk, listed in my training schedule, and I’m set for another two hour walk tomorrow.  I am only three months from the BIG Start Gun . . . the one in my core that will take me to St. Jean Pied-de-Port for the beginning of a journey 100 times the length of this one.  My walk across Spain begins on my mother’s birthday.  And I can hardly contain myself.

Posted in Body readiness, Bolder Boulder, Camino de Santiago, What Goes on in the Mind, Women Walking | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Training in South Carolina . . . a most unexpected place to begin again

Posted on April 30, 2013 by Woodswoman

Well, it appears that I train for this Camino walk in the most unusual ways . . . I thought I’d begin again on the Kathy Fromme Trail near my house, but of course it’s been snowing on and off for the last two weeks.  Twenty-two inches of snow doesn’t make for a great prairie path walk.

Then last week, Neil and I left for ten days in South Carolina, and since I know Charleston is a great place to walk around, I brought my pedometer and envisioned walking the streets of this most charming southern city.  Little did I know that I would find a very unusual way to walk nearly a full, albeit relatively short, trek . . . eleven miles on Friday.  The first three miles were just as I had imagined . . . from our Inn to the aquarium, the lunch restaurant, the Visitor’s Center, and back to the Inn.

The great surprise was this:

  • Ravenel Bridge – Charleston to Mount Pleasant, S.C.

  • A beautiful bridge, with white structure to make two diamonds hovering over the water.  And you can walk it . . . from the divided highway entry on either side, across from one town to the other and back again.

P1000517 P1000523

By the time we finished the whole walk, back and forth, and continued to our Inn, we had walked eight miles, added to the three miles we had covered in the morning.  It felt exhilarating!  The temperature was in the mid-70’s, not a cloud in the sky, with a brisk breeze to keep me cool.

Together with our previous two days of walking, I definitely met the goal for the first of weeks 1-7 of my sixteen week training.  Now our walking will be on bicycle paths at Hilton Head, and on the beaches in front of our temporary residence.  Then home, where perhaps the snow will be melted!

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Going Within: Part I

Posted on March 30, 2013 by Woodswoman

Say hello to a Haiku, written for me:

Pilgrimage today
Traversing the north of Spain
Off to find my truth

-Mary Kay Loner – March 6, 2013

My friend Mary Kay sent this to me soon after our last Couple’s Book Group meeting at my house.  Mary Kay and her husband traveled the Camino de Santiago on bicycles last fall, through Experience Plus, a bicycle and walking touring company, owned by friends of mine, based right here in my Colorado town, with an Italian office as well.  We talked about their recent trip, and my upcoming one on the Camino, and I am grateful that I was on her mind when her poet’s heart created this lovely poem.

The Haiku appeared fortuitously, since I’ve been going through some questions, Self-Assessment questions, in John Brierley’s book, A Pilgrim’s Guide to the Camino Frances.

The first question is “How do you differentiate pilgrimage from a long-distance walk?”  Well, I’ve done a few fairly long-distance walks, some planned, some not.  Walking the Bolder Boulder puts one in the 10K category, which by comparison to the Camino, is a spit up the road, nothing more.

Uluru - The Outback - Australia

Uluru – The Outback – Australia

Walking around Uluru, another 10K circuit, is so easy and peaceful, with this magnificent view, or parts of it, at your side, that one doesn’t even think about distances.  But again, compared with the 1000K I will walk in the fall, it doesn’t qualify as “long-distance”.

Unplanned long walks, like the ones we do in New York City, just start when we walk out the door of our hotel, perhaps in Chelsea, and begin to stroll for awhile, finding ourselves on the Upper West Side for breakfast, across town at Rizolli’s books, and back to the hotel.  It might take much of a day, and we stop at a coffee shop, a museum, the American Craftsman store on 7th or 8th Avenue, but we do quite a distance on those strolling adventures.

A pilgrimage . . . well, I’m not religious at all.  Perhaps a bit of a spiritual atheist, but more the atheist these days than the spiritual part.  Still, I have a compelling desire to go inward, not for something specific, but rather for the experience of NOT having an agenda for once in my life.  Am I looking for my truth?  Well, honestly, no.  Might I find it?  Perhaps . . . but I’m looking for the opportunity to hear and feel myself muse without the interruption of the phone, an event I have to plan or attend, or the computer’s “Ding” calling me to check the latest e-mail.

Solitude, beauty, physical challenge, and possibility . . . an organic journey for myself.  I can feel myself taking in mini-doses of this as I walk the Kathy Fromme Trail near my house, or circumnavigate the sacred red rock at Uluru, and sometimes even in the midst of what some people call the chaos of New York City.  But 35-45 days, without planned traveling companions, in a country where I can barely say hello (I’m working on that Spanish language!), pushing myself physically, more than I had ever dreamed . . . that sounds like a good enough definition of “pilgrimage” for me, until I actually experience it.

More musings on the Self Assessment questions next time.  For now, I think I’ll just let this soak.

Posted in Australia walking, Body readiness, Camino de Santiago, Preparation, Spain, What Goes on in the Mind, Why Walk The Camino?, Women Walking | Tagged , , , , , , | 3 Comments

Taking Care of Body Business . . .

Posted on March 6, 2013 by Woodswoman

No, I haven’t forgotten about the Camino or about training, or about this website . . . Cruising along with my hiking/walking through our Australia trip, and then I couldn’t ignore my shoulder injury any longer.  I’m not sure what happened, but sometime in mid-October, I did something bad to my poor right arm, and I had been ignoring it.

Mid-December I visited the orthopedic surgeon who repaired my right rotator cuff thirteen years ago.  After an exam, and a cortisone shot, I left the office with exercises to do, and a promise to return if things didn’t improve after my trip to Tucson in January.

Tucson for two weeks . . . I looked forward to many hiking opportunities with Neil in the Sonoran desert, Sabino Canyon, and surrounds.  Hiking boots, backpack, walking sticks, my 1000 Mile socks, and an old hiking book for the  Tucson area . . . everything we needed except good weather.  We squeezed in one three-mile hike before the weather in Tucson turned too cold for the clothing we brought.  Covering plants at Neil’s brother’s house, we all prepared for some 20 degree nights.  And they came, bringing only a slight bit of relief during the day.  One more hike the day before we returned to Colorado, and then we were back in the winter temperatures of our home town.

And my shoulder was no better.  Another doctor’s visit, an appointment for an MRI, and a shoulder surgery to “release” a shredded bicep tendon, grind out some arthritis in my shoulder socket, and perhaps I’d be nearly good as new.  My doctor wryly reminded me that I no longer had a twenty-year old shoulder.

It’s been four weeks since the surgery, and I’m feeling surprisingly good.  I began to attend my NIA classes again, and am back to walking nearly every day, even if it’s in the freezing snow with my twelve-year old dog!

The other bit of Body Business began when I got a recent diagnosis of Type II Diabetes.  I didn’t need both of these physical issues in one month!  Preparing for the Camino will definitely inject plenty of exercise into my diabetes management regimen, and I very much look forward to warmer days in the near future so I can walk without being so bundled up I look like the Michelin Man.  My hiking boots are getting antsy to be of use again, and I’m counting the time until I leave for Spain.  Only five and a half months!

Taking care of major body health is essential preparation for my Camino.  With a good shoulder, and good insulin balance, I’m better equipped to resume the training I began nearly a year ago.  And I’ll be able to muse again about the reasons I wanted to do this in the first place.  Have i sorted those out?  Is it necessary to know why I’m moving toward this adventure?  My answer is always the same.  I don’t have to know why I’m headed to a Spanish pilgrimage.  I just know that I’m headed there.  And for now, it will be enough.

Posted in Body readiness, Camino de Santiago, Diabetes diagnosis, Preparation, Shoulder surgery | Leave a comment

A One-Way Plane Ticket . . .

Posted on December 22, 2012 by Woodswoman

Have I mentioned that I have a plane ticket for my trip to walk the Camino de Santiago?  One night in the wee hours, I was clicking through a variety of airline search sites and found a one-way fare from Denver to Paris with an 18-hour layover in Reykjavik.  Since the fares for Madrid and Barcelona were more costly, and since this Icelandic Air flight would allow me to see a part of the world, if only for a brief stay, that has been on my Bucket List for many years, I grabbed it.

I’ll depart on August 28, arrive at the DeGaulle airport in Paris on August 30 in the early morning, and take a train to St. Jean Pied-de-Port.  The train should get me to my final destination, and the starting point of my walk by early evening on August 30.  With luck, I might be able to actually sleep on some normal schedule that night, spend the next day regrouping, relaxing, reconnoitering, geared up to begin, headed toward Roncesvalles on September 1, my mother’s birthday.

I’m not sure whether to hold my breath, jump up and down exuberantly, or be shocked into complete silence at the audacity of my adventurous self.  Never have I attempted anything like this . . . a very long expedition for me, by myself, in a country where I do not speak the language, a physical challenge the likes of which I have not known before.

But I’m not holding my breath, nor am I jumping up and down.  The shock . . . well, I sink into it on and off, though I still have more than eight months before I get on that plane.  But with that plane ticket, I also bought the beginnings of my travel insurance, and those two bits add more cement to my commitment to do this pilgrimage for myself, by myself, with my Self.

I’ll worry about arranging the plane home after I see how long it will take me to go 1000km across Spain from the French-Spanish border to the western coast at Finisterre and Muxia.  There will be plenty of time to get home, after what I figure will be a six or seven week journey.

Today I registered for a Conversational Spanish course at the local community college, approximately three blocks from my house.  I guess that’s another marker on the way to the Camino,and I’ll watch myself at each of these markers . . . watering the flower of this solitude experience as it takes root and blossoms.

Posted in Bucket List, Camino de Santiago, Preparation, Spain, What Goes on in the Mind, Women Walking | Tagged , , | Leave a comment