Carrying Extra Weight

This weekend we took our second hike in preparation for walking a portion of the Camino de Santiago in July. Originally our idea was to do 125km but we soon found ourselves changing our plans to allow for us to do roughly 200km beginning in Ponferrada. I think it is safe to say we have begun to experience our first wave of riding the wind that will be with us on our camino.

Our first preparation hike was just my husband and myself but this time our daughter, who will also be walking the camino, joined us. Perhaps more genuinely stated-  She grudgingly obliged our insisting that she come along; dragging her feet in protest for much of the way. For this hike my training element was to be carrying a heavier backpack than I had previously done  in order to gauge and begin to know my response to the extra weight.  As it turns out, the heaviest burden on the walk was not the pack, but rather it was my response to her resistance.  Barely 10 minutes into the hike the complaining was in full supply. “Too hot, too tired, too hungry, too thirsty, too much homework waiting to be done at home, too boring…” the list of grievances ran on, repeated in a loop with ever increasing dramatic tenor.  My husband and I exchanging exasperated looks and tag teaming each other in reciting the days mantra. “You can walk with a good attitude or walk with a bad attitude. The choice is entirely up to you.”  Far from the inspiring day of hiking in the tranquility of nature I had hoped for.  my annoyance increasing with every kick of the dirt.  As each of our very sensible suggestions to help her resolve her complaints (walk in the shade, drink some water, use the hiking staff…) was rebuffed I wondered what on earth were we thinking when we decided walking 200km over 2 weeks with a moody pre-teen was a good idea.

Determined not to let her bad attitude become my bad attitude, I carried on. Unfortunately so did her moaning. In my thoughts I heard angry stories of how a truly loving  and grateful child would respond to being dragged out of bed

…on a Sunday morning

…for a 15km hike

…to train for walking 200km

…in the heat of summer

…with their parents

…during summer vacation.

And there it was. Or rather there it was glaringly absent: Where is the fun in that?!?

In that moment of awareness my compassion brought forth such laughter. My load lightened as I gazed out over the valley which held the river we followed as we began our preparation for the camino. The same valley where my daughter walked recently on a class trip (4km longer than we walked) and by all reports really enjoyed herself. Even with a few minor physical blips of sore ankles and bothersome allergies. Mindfully – I   chose to let the beauty of the landscape we looked upon lift me up from where my thoughts were spiraling down towards and my extolling its glory became the counterpoint to the discord of my daughter’s song.

Looking down to the valley (you can just barely see our house in the distance!)

The day’s mantra no longer being used as chant ordering compliance – now being sung with joy and inclusion for all of us who were walking together. For all that each of us carried with us.

“You can walk with a good attitude, or you can walk with a bad attitude. The choice is entirely yours.” 

Onward we journeyed. Shortly we came upon a group of walkers coming from the direction that we were heading. We stopped to hear of each other’s journey for the day.  Loki, our Spanish Water Dog providing for good humor and small talk. (No, Loki will not be on our camino.)  As we walked on our way we imagined the yet unknown people that we will meet as we walk The Way.

Goat Caves! My aries girl sprang right up to explore.

Our original goal for the day was to walk roughly 15km on a modified route to the area in the sierra above our house. Plans changed however when my once lead footed girl spied these goat caves above our path and pleaded for us to climb up and explore. So up we went! I cheered her enthusiasm and willingness to let go of her fears of a summer holiday nightmare to enjoy where we were that day.  At the same time I celebrated that a fear of heights which I had let go of several years ago no longer held me down.  Such emotion, such freedom such gratitude for it all. For what carrying that extra weight taught me

After we washed our hands wash in a cool stream (caves…bats….goats…yuck!) we snacked on some food I had prepared for our day out. Just a quick rest before we rounded off the original route and back down the GR-7 towards our house from the other side of the canyon.

The way back had its share of bumps and grievances. Such is to be expected. Fact: Prickers in your socks and those blasted allergies are just plain lousy. But they existed harmoniously within a strong and joyful journey.

My ‘brag’ photo from high above our village. Much to be proud of this day.