I am a week (ish) out from departing on my big adventure. My training has been an adventure in realising what I am good at and what I am not. First, as you will notice in the picture, sunblock is in the column of "could use improvement". In addition, the Pieterpad is not the place for fashion sunglasses. In fact, anything that covers me too much is annoying. My face was claustrophobic from those glasses.
The Pieterpad is a hiking path from the north to south of the Netherlands. It is broken into stages (etappes) and there are campsites and communal housing options along the way. It is similar to the construct and energy of the Camino. People walk it through or break it into stages, just as I did. I did two etappes to practice in advance of the Camino. It might suprise one to realise that there is quite a bit of variety in the topography of NL. Sure, it is flat in comparison to mountain ranges, but there is quite a bit of diversity from dense forests, farmland, dunes, and savanna. On a hot day the dunes can be torturous (case in point, picture above).
In terms of realising what I am good at and not, I would like to start with the positive. I am good at consistently exercising to prepare le bod. I am also pretty good at noticing potential "anxiety watch outs" and putting in a plan to mitigate excessive stress. That assumes I know what could go wrong.
I have always known that I am not great with maps (physical or digital). To me, to look at a map is essentially this: imagine overcooking spaghetti well passed al dente. Then, grabbing that mush in your hand, squeezing it, and throwing it on the wall. This is what I see when I look at a map. It's gross. It's confusing. It's dripping down a surface. There is no order, the circle that is supposed to communicate my current location, well, it moves and makes no sense to me. This became a problem when I used Google Maps vs the Peiterpad simple signage to get to my first stop. The trip was supposed to be 3 hours, but turned out to be 5.5 hours. I was shuffling my plantar fascitis along the road, staring quizzically at my phone, thankfully bursting out in laughter due to Smartless playing in my gigantic, over-ear headphones (read first paragraph: my ears were also claustrophobic at this time). It tested my confidence. No wonder that night I had a fitful sleep including nightmares about the Blair Witch Project and Elon Musk.
For the next etappe, I decided that Google maps was the culprit of much my stress. So, I needed to figure out how to get comfortable simply following the signs. Turns out, that is not hard once you know what to read and how. It sounds obvious, but in that area there is a huge network of bike routes and general walking routes that aren't the Pieterpad. Most intersections include numerous signs with route numbers, maps (oh no), and lots of arrows. Once I figured out the only one to follow is the red/white arrow, it was alot easier. Alternatively, simply following other hikers with giant packs like mine is a good method as well.
I ended up walking and chatting with another woman the entire day. She gave me so many helpful tips from hiker's wool for your shoes/feet to first-aid kit advice. In fact, she gave me her wool to put in my shoes for my foot pain. We picked up another two hikers and chatted along the way in pairs. The four of us stopped under a tree to eat our sandwiches together before dropping my first friend off at her campsite. Then, they walked me part way to my bus to make sure I got there safely. I never learned any of their names. We departed with a nice to meet you and good luck with your adventure. It was such a sweet taste of what is likely to come.
I have spent the last few days coming to terms with the lessons I learned on the path and making adjustments to my Camino plan. I surrendered to my hiking boots, they stress me out too much. There is no amount of breaking them in that will make my third toe NOT go numb and the ball of my right foot NOT end a day in excrutiating pain. It was 200 euros I have to come to peace with. Yesterday, I went and bought squishy, Hoka hiking shoes, gulp. Thankfully, my friend came with me and helped me immensely. He has a knack for detail to ensure I get the right shoe and genuinely cares I have all the right equipment. He also has the patience to do the research (add that to what I am not good at). Three foot scans later, I finally understand why my freaking feet hurt so much: I have two different sized feet, my right foot is concave on the top of my foot near my third toe, which is why, underneath my entire body weight rests on that part under my third toe. I also have lower arch and narrower heel in the right foot. Therefore: I needed to call in the comfort experts and went with Hoka.
I also bought smaller and lighter sunglasses for the sake of not suffocating my face. Not sure if I can forego my giant ass headphones, but we will see. I might cave and get in-ears. Although, last time I did that, when I took them out on a run, they fell out of my ear and a car ran over them. Flattening that investment like a Skittle. So,considering all the extra purchases, and my need to not sleep in a 8-bunk bed room in a farmhouse in France, I think I need to cut costs where I can.
All that being said, I have left out that the walk itself was absolutely gorgeous. I kept saying to myself, literally outloud, I am so grateful. What a beautiful place I live and wonderful life I have. Honestly, I feel so lucky to be here. That is most important lesson to date.
