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Have you ever made a decision and then, somewhere along the way, asked yourself:
“What the F%@$ am I doing?”
That was me today.
Today wasn’t physically the hardest day of this journey – that will forever be Day 2 – but it was mentally taxing.
In general, the trail is very remote – not many towns and not many people. The language barrier has been difficult to overcome. The resources are scares. And the food hasn’t always agreed with my body.
Today, the temperature was already blazing hot and climbing when we started hiking at 8:00 a.m. I don’t hike well in extreme heat.
I get cranky.
I get crabby.
I whine.
And I complain.
Not a little…
A lot.
Actually…wait a second.
I’m starting to notice a pattern here.
I don’t like hiking in pouring rain. I complain when it’s blazing hot. I curse every mountain climb. I grumble through endless gravel roads.
Maybe…
Maybe I’m the problem.
Now that’s an unsettling realization.
Moving on…
At one point I thought to myself, if the wheels fall off the bus of this adventure and we have to abort our mission, I am completely on board with that outcome.
Somewhere in the middle of nowhere, my internal dialogue sounded something like this:
“What are we doing?”
“Why are we here?”
“This was such a dumb idea.”
“We still have at least forty more days of this shit…”
“Why is Massimo so damn happy all the time? The man never complains. His perfection is becoming annoying.”
Then, completely out of nowhere, Massimo looked over and asked,
“Do you ever ask yourself, ‘Why am I doing this? Am I crazy?’”
Oh, thank God.
He’s normal.
That started a conversation about something I think happens during every big adventure, and probably every worthwhile goal in life.
There’s usually a point, often a week or two in, where the excitement wears off, reality settles in, and your brain starts negotiating an early exit.
It’s the mental wall.
Today was my wall…made of brick and reinforced steel.
I genuinely wanted to quit.
The little doubters in my head were working overtime.
The sun scorched every inch of exposed skin. I’m sunburned from head to toe. I even have tan, and burn, lines in the exact shape of my sandals.
At about the halfway point, I misstepped, rolled my ankle, and slammed my knee onto the asphalt.
BAM!
I started to bleed and cleaned it with some water from my bottle.
That’s never happened to me before.
By the time we reached tonight’s hostel, the whole day felt like it had been circling the drain.
But here’s the thing…
This is my sixth or seventh long-distance hike of more than 300 miles.
I’ve been here before.
I know what I signed up for.
I knew a day like this would eventually show up.
I also know tomorrow or maybe the day after will probably feel completely different.
I’ve learned that you don’t make life-changing decisions on your worst day.
The days pass whether you quit or keep going. So why not keep going?
As for today’s actual hike…
Imagine miles and miles of farm fields…
Filled with cow pie landmines.
Every step required strategic planning.
One wrong move and let’s just say it wouldn’t have smelled good – probably for hours on the bottom of a thin rubber sandal.
The highlight of the day was meeting this “sheep guard dog” in training.
Judging by these photos, I’d say his career prospects are…questionable at best.
I don’t think protecting sheep is his calling.
Professional cuddler?
Absolutely.
Guard dog?
Doubtful.
A couple of days ago I made an offhanded comment to Massimo that I didn’t have any photos of me hiking for the blog. Nearly every picture I have is the back of his red backpack disappearing down the trail.
Without me asking, he stopped, turned around, and snapped this picture.
Looking at it now, I’m reminded that despite everything, I was still smiling.
Maybe things weren’t quite as awful as my dramatic inner monologue had convinced me they were.
Tonight we’re staying at Maria’s place in Gledin…the absolute middle of nowhere. 🇷🇴
The room is clean. The shower is hot. The food was delicious.
At this point, that’s basically luxury and all I need.
From the balcony of our hostel, I watched a local farmer quietly going about his evening.
No rush. No traffic. No noise. Just simple living.
Tonight, I’m going to get a good night sleep and try again tomorrow. It’s the best I can do and that’s all I can ask of myself.
Much love & gratitude. Namaste 🙏
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We also crossed another milestone today.
250 kilometers (155 miles) completed.
Only…1,150 kilometers to go.
Good God. 🙄
We can hear the baby storks squawking from the nests as we walk by.
One final confession…
For the last section of today’s hike, we took a shortcut.
A big one.
We skipped about 5 kilometers of trail through the fields and walked the main road instead.
By that point, I’d had enough and officially reached my limit.
Massimo probably would’ve voted to stay on the trail.
I never gave him the opportunity.
Sorry…not sorry.
Because he’s a good human, Massimo bought me an ice cream to help me recover from my “boo-boo” knee.
I’m not saying ice cream fixes everything…
…but it definitely improved my attitude.
More intel about Team Sandals:
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Dew in the morning makes for a slippery walk.
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Dry cut grass gets caught in the sandal and will give you little splinters. Ouch!
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The tan lines are atrocious.
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They are still a fashion disaster.
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Thankfully, I packed a tiny nail brush, so after a shower my feet can at least pretend to be civilized again.
I’ve also stopped wearing my knee brace for part of the hike (the flat bits) because that tan line is about as obnoxious as the sandal lines.
