Hiking – Page 2 – Andrea Arthur Owan

How the Camino de Santiago Changed My Daily Eating and Cooking Habits

I thought we were going to have to eat it for every meal while walking the Camino. All the books said we’d have to, that the Spaniards consume it for lunch and dinner, and that breakfast would only be a hard (read: stale) piece of bread for breakfast. Maybe you’d get lucky and find a place open early enough for a café con leche.

WELLLLL, it could be that we hit the jackpot, all of the Camino books I read were old and wrong, or the establishments are trying to meet the demands of more discriminating (and maybe demanding?) pilgrims.

Whatever it is, we didn’t have to eat the ubiquitous ham sandwich or pork dinner if we didn’t want to.

We weren’t stuck with ham and a sliver-of-cheese sandwich. We didn’t have only pork tenderloin for dinner.

Instead, we were treated to exquisitely fresh and varied meals for nearly every day of our journey.

A lot of it!

Fresh bananas, oranges and apples were prevalent. We often packed those along for a mid-morning snack with a hunk of delicious Basque cheese, since we elected not to get bogged down physically by a big breakfast.

Sometimes we’d treat ourselves to a HUGE flaky, buttery croissant, or one stuffed with dark chocolate (Chris’s personal fave) and cup of café con leche, but most of the time we waited until mid-morning to stop for a short break and nibble.

Then we’d usually walk through lunch and have a sandwich or more substantial snack after we stopped walking, around 2:00 – 3:00 in the afternoon. Sometimes the sandwich would be one we’d purchased that morning and saved, or was a fresh one we found at an open store. (When we arrived in a new city nearly all of the places were closed for siesta, so we had to wait until they re-opened. In some towns that was five-ish; in other places it was 6:00 or 7:00. You never could be too sure about what you’d encounter, so you learned to be prepared in the meal or snack-to-tide-you-over department.

And many of the towns had markets open early enough to enjoy a cafe con leche before heading out. One wonderful and noteworthy Lorca albergue we stayed in offered a nice breakfast selection.

3-Course Meals—

But nearly every dinner we enjoyed was a three-course meal affair, with several selections for each course.

The “Salad Mixta” was usually a large plate of greens, a sliced hard-boiled egg, tuna fish, fresh tomatoes, white asparagus and tomatoes (and sometimes roasted red pepper strips), maybe a sprinkling of cheese or corn kernels. A light coating of olive oil and a sprinkle of salt served as the dressing. I was usually full and adequately satisfied after the salad, which I always ordered.

Then the second course was an equally humongous plate of pork tenderloin, albondigas (meat and pork meatballs) in a delicious, mildly sweet roasted red pepper sauce, a pasta dish or a fresh fish dish. I lost count of how many plates of northern Spain sea bass tenderloin or bacalao (cod) with a pepper sauce coating I consumed. And I didn’t tire of it.

Dessert might have been flan (always offered), ice cream, cheesecake, tiramisu, or a choice of whole fruit. Occasionally a monstrous slab of chocolate fudge cake with mounds of whipped cream was a selection.

And the dessert (unless it was a ubiquitous Nestle concoction), didn’t taste as though it contained nearly as much sugar as our American varieties. So the ingredient flavors were not overpowered by the super sweet sugar.

Oh, and every dinner came with a full bottle of red wine. (The daily imbibing on the cheap motivates a lot of people to walk the Camino).

I can count on three fingers how many times I had wine, which includes a glass of rose in France, a sip of red somewhere in Spain, and enough to dampen end of my tongue at the famous Fuente del Vino (Fountain of Wine) at Bodegas Irache.

No way was I going to walk the Camino on a glass of wine, as some unfortunate pilgrims tried (and failed) to do successfully.

Energy to spare on reduced rations and exercise—

What we noticed was how physically and emotionally satisfied we felt with the meal strategy.

Although we consumed a lot of calories for dinner, walking five to six hours a day quickly burned that off.

But exercising on a primarily empty or lightly filled stomach allowed our bodies to more efficiently burn fuel without us feeling sluggish or uncomfortably stuffed.

It was something I used to practice religiously—not eating before exercising—but had abdicated, primarily in favor of convenience or meeting others’ schedules.

But now we’re back to it. And we feel SO much better! And physically lighter. Keeps the brain sharper too. That practice also fits into the popular Keto diet, where you’re running in caloric deficit and burning ketones.

Opting for fresh food—

Another thing we noticed was just how much more we enjoyed REALLY fresh (like right off the adjacent farm) food.

Anyone who had the joy of biting into a beefsteak tomato thirty years ago knows how disappointing our current overgrown, overproduced, GMO’d tomatoes we get today are.

In France and Spain, we once again enjoyed the real deal—plump, fresh, juicy, right-off-the-vine, organic tomatoes. Many tasted like heirloom varieties.

And we’re not going back to the tasteless type.

Shopping and cooking fresh—

Now I’m taking the time to shop frequently—about every other day—for fresh (and organic) everything:

Fresh fish
Fresh veggies
Fresh fruit
Fresh meat (which we rarely consume now)
Fresh milk
Fresh cheese
Fresh bread
You name it. It gets purchased fresh and consumed. Not much frozen anymore, except maybe berries.

Hello, farmers markets!

Chris and I are becoming weekend regulars at the local farmers market, returning to our favorite handpicked produce sellers, the adorable bread baker who kneads and molds her artisan bread with her gnarled rheumatoid arthritic hands. The former Wall Street worker who sold it all and moved to a Sonoita ranch (on the Arizona-Mexico border) to raise grass-fed cattle gets attention for her delicious ground meat and sausage (and hydrating purified rain water blended with rose water and 6 vital essential oils).

And I’m really enjoying the art of preparing and cooking, making a game out of seeing what I can combine for flavors. You’d be surprised what tastes good together!

I’ve even cracked open the Great Courses DVD and book The Everyday Gourmet: Rediscovering the Lost Art of Cooking compiled by The Culinary Institute of America. I started it a couple of years ago and am excited to re-start and finish it, improve my skills and cooking joy!

Cooking can be fun and relaxing. Something you can take pride in doing. Something that joggles the imagination and adds variety to life. It can also be a very social event, as when you and your hubby are chatting and chopping and stirring and laughing.

Makes me wonder when they’re going to get wise and re-introduce home economics back into the schools—for girls AND boys!

And all of that is reaping side benefits:

Enjoying my market and food shopping time—browsing the produce to see what’s available, planning my meals based on the available (and in-season) ingredients.
Getting exercise by moving around the kitchen more when I’m cooking, and more often in general, since I’m spending more time in food preparation.
Slowing down and enjoying the slower pace of life.
Getting outside in the fresh air to stroll through a farmers market and enjoy friendly conversation with vendors.
Enjoying meals more.
Spending less money on food because more gets eaten and less gets wasted!
Did I say saving money?
Except for dinner, which we’re trying to eat by 6:00 PM, we’re no longer married to specific times for breakfast and lunch. Sometimes we eat a late breakfast, skip lunch and then enjoy an early late lunch/early dinner. It certainly helps with the sleep!

NEXT WEEK I’ll add something to this topic that will help you emotionally, physically and spiritually. (Especially through the holidays!)

Until then, happy farmers market browsing!

Blessings,

Andrea

May you prosper in all things and be in health, just as your soul prospers (3 John 2).

Photo by Dane Deaner on unsplash

Keeping the Camino Alive at Home

One of the biggest things I miss about being on the Camino de Santiago is that I’m no longer outside as much as I was when walking it. I’m inside. Too much. All that fresh air, sunshine, the varied terrain, endless views, and those interesting cloud formations to enjoy and revitalize me.

So that’s one of the ways I’m continuing my Camino here at home. I’m making a point of getting outside more often. Taking my ten-minutes from writing breaks outside. Feasting on the cooler weather, the backyard plants that have busted out in uniquely fall foliage and flowers, the brilliant green baby grass sprigs that have exploded from the ground. Then there are the songbirds that have returned from their summer mountain escape to feed at my feeders. The animal life outside the walls of my home is busy, and I’m enjoying witnessing it!

And I’m still walking.

But there are other ways Chris and I are continuing to maintain our new sense of freedom and peace.

Today I’ll give you three ways:

Trying to maintain farmer hours.

We’d been trying to do this for about a year, but when we walked the Camino, we had to. And now we crave it!

The albergues (hostels strictly dedicated to Camino pilgrims) require the lights to be out by 10:00, (actually, they’re required by law to lock the doors and turn down the lights to ensure no late-night revelers crash the establishment and pilgrims can get some sleep). Many pilgrims wanted them out earlier, so they could hit the trail before dawn. So we developed the daily rhythm of rising with the sun (or the light switch being flicked to “on”) and beginning the winding down process right after dinner, which we usually ate around 7:00 to 7:30. (Although some blessed restaurants opened the dinner doors at 6:00 to accommodate us Westerners!)

One private home we stayed in (it was like a B&B for pilgrims) required the lights out at 9:00 because she had other tenants that needed to rise early.

Without television, computers, or phone WiFi (pronounced “Wee Fee” by some in Spain) to distract us, we wound down, read our maps and planned our next day’s route, and maybe chatted with other pilgrims. Sometimes we strolled around outside the hostel to enjoy the quiet or distance city lights before retiring to bed. Sometimes we scribbled thoughts in our journals.

At home, we’re making sure the computers are shut down at least an hour before bedtime and only necessary lights for maneuvering around the house or bedroom are left on. Since we don’t watch much television, that’s not a problem for us. But when we’ve been sitting on the couch watching it, we make sure it’s off at least an hour before bed too. (Football games that go to 11:00 PM not included!)

The cellphone is left in its hammock in the kitchen (Chris leaves his in the office room), and we don’t read emails, texts, or Internet articles online, or answer phone calls either. If I can, I even shut down the Internet connection. When Chris’s company uses the dead-of-night hours to load new programs on his computer, we can’t do this.)

For many reasons, we’ve always maintained a strict rule in our house that there are NO televisions in the bedrooms. Having one in a bedroom allows you to disassociate too easily from the rest of the family; it’s a serious sleep and body rhythm disrupter; and it ruins your husband-wife intimacy.

I’m sure you’ve read or heard the research: Keeping all the electronics going right up until bedtime, and often after you’ve gone to bed, ruins your sleep and causes sleep disturbances. Your body needs time to raise your melatonin levels to ensure good, healing, restorative sleep.

On the Camino, we got it!

Preparing well for your day and making sure (as much as is possible with you) that you don’t rush to do anything!

On the Camino, if you weren’t prepared to pack up your backpack and leave the albergue at the designated (no excuses allowed or accepted) time, they locked the doors (8:00 AM in most), then you risked forgetting an item and getting off to a harried start.

I’m continuing that at home. If I can’t finish something in the time I have, I re-schedule it or plan to do when I know I have the time.

I resist allowing others to load up my time with things they think are “critical.” Most of the time they’re not. I don’t commit unless I feel a joy about doing it and know I have the time. Obviously some work requirements fall outside of this rule, especially in the joy department. But I’m also taking inventory on what gives me joy and a sense of purpose and what doesn’t, and that’s giving me more freedom (and reason) to choose what I do when.

In the simplest example, I don’t start a load of laundry at 9:00 at night, when I intend to be in bed by 9:30; or if I know I don’t have time to get the load washed, dried and properly hung up or folded to avoid wrinkles.

I don’t overschedule my day.

If I end up not being able to complete something I hoped to accomplish one day, I don’t stress about it. I move it to the next day’s schedule. Most of the time it’s not a critical, deadline-driven item. If it is, I make sure it gets done first, whether it’s my favorite thing to do or not.

I know, and am honest about, just how long it takes me to get ready to go some place.

On the Camino, Chris and I were able to whittle down our morning prep and backpack loading time to 45 minutes. But that amount of time felt rushed. An hour was more comfortable, so we planned for an hour. And then we rarely ran outside to rejoin the path. We’d stretch, survey the day, weather and our surroundings, smile at and chat with some passing pilgrims, make sure our water bottles were filled, our packs were comfortably situated on our backs, and our poles were in our hands. And then we’d decide if we wanted a café con leche and croissant before we got started, or would wait until a mid-morning break or the next town for those.

Back home I’m spending more time thinking about all of the items I need to gather together to accomplish my day and make it a success. Do I have everything I need to run the errands I plan to run? Have I put the necessary items in the car? (Like my grocery bags.) Can I consolidate errands on one day?

And the biggest, most effective question?

What can I do to make my day less stressful, less chaotic, more enjoyable, productive and successful?

Answering that question requires that I slow down and focus on what I’m doing and going to do. Where I’m going and how long I’m likely to be there. How long it actually takes to get there, without rushing or cutting others off in traffic. Making the journey itself enjoyable.

And another question I can ask myself is:

How much of the frustration and chaos in my life is my own fault, of my own doing, by my own hand?

Most of the time we have choices. We can set boundaries with others, and ourselves. When we don’t, we need to stop pointing the finger of blame at our bosses, our co-workers, our spouses and our kids. If we let them erase or move our boundaries, then we are likely the ones to blame for the pain, frustration and exhaustion it causes.

Which translates to: No whining allowed.

Whatever I’m doing at the moment, no matter how small or insignificant it seems to be, I’m focusing entirely on what I’m doing.

Again, if getting up late and having to rush to prepare for your day and pack your backpack distracted you, you risked leaving something behind or starting your day feeling frantic and already physically and emotionally overwhelmed.

On the Camino, we got into the habit of planning two days out in advance. How far we planned to walk, the city where we would to spend the night. Then making sure we had lodgings secured someplace in that city.

That relieved us of the pressures (and potential mental distractions) of wondering what our day would look like, what we’d have time to see, whether or not we’d arrive in time to get a bed at a hostel (some are first-come, first served), and whether or not we’d have to walk all around that town to find an available room, or bed.

So now I’m on a mission to remove as many distractions as possible from life. Even the tiniest things that cause my brain to hiccup.

Like not reading the mail while I’m watching the news. Although I might use the commercial breaks for that.

And that includes reading text messages and emails. The only time the phone gets my attention during that time is if Chris or one of the boys calls.

Really enjoying folding the laundry and putting it in neat stacks, rather than haphazardly folding them and maybe leaving a heap of clean clothes on the bed because I got distracted by something else, or was trying to accomplish too many loads of laundry in a day or was too tired or frustrated by something else (like my ridiculously over-packed schedule) to really pay attention to doing a good job.

And not reading something (email, magazine, mail, etc.) while I’m talking to someone, telling them “Keep talking, I’m listening.” And focusing on my meal without reading mail or chatting on the phone. (For years studies have shown that people who pay attention to what they eat, really sit down, slow down and pay attention to their food slow down and eat far less and enjoy their food more.)

Focusing on cooking and preparing a meal instead of watching television (another place to not allow a television is in the kitchen). I’m even getting to the point where I don’t like the distraction of cooking at the stove and talking to someone—including Chris—simultaneously.

Have you ever seen a busy restaurant kitchen? It’s chaos and stress. I’ve determined that the quality and timeliness of my meals is in direct proportion to the amount of attention I give them.

I’m opting for quality and timeliness. It’s certainly allowing me more food preparation and cooking joy than I’ve ever experienced before!

One other positive benefit of being more deliberate and intentional with everything I do, including the laundry, is that I’m experiencing far fewer “now, what-did-I-come-in-this-room-for-again?” senior moments. Just another confirmation that it wasn’t so much my aging, shrinking brain as my lifestyle causing me such frustration, distraction and a sieve-like brain.

And it’s allowing me to enjoy devotion and prayer times with fewer distractions. My mind stays on topic. And I can really listen for, and to God. That’s the best benefit of all!

And you?

These steps might be no-brainers for you, things you’re already doing. If so, bravo!! I applaud you.

If not, consider trying them, or just one. Be deliberate. This is brain retraining, so you can learn new habits; make life more manageable and enjoyable. Less frustrating and overwhelming.

I think you’ll find that your mental, physical, emotional and spiritual health will improve!

NEXT FRIDAY I’ll give you some additional changes you might try. Including some of the Spanish lifestyle behaviors I think allows them to outrank us in longevity.

Until then, may you find joy in being focused and undistracted!

Blessings,

Andrea

May you prosper in all things and be in health, just as your soul prospers (3 John 2).

Photos by Andrea A Owan

Zig Zag Hiking: Making the Climb Easier on the Camino de Santiago

I stood on the side of the rocky path and gasped for breath. My heart pounded so hard I thought my chest might explode. Sweat dribbled down my face and back.

This was brutal!

And I was not enjoying it.

The journey begins—

Chris and I were on our first day of walking the Camino de Santiago. We knew this day would likely be the toughest, although word on the street was that the next day—from Orisson, France to Roncesvalles, Spain—would be just as murderous, if not more so due to the steep elevation gain toward the end and then then precarious descent.

We would start in the medieval French town of St. Jean Pied de Pont, in the Basque country of southern France, at the beginning of the Pyrenees foothills. An elevation of 594 feet above sea level. In 5.1 miles, we would ascend to 3,614 feet.

By car, a 6-minute drive.

By foot, hours.

Not a trek for the faint of heart.

When Pierre, our adorable French bed and breakfast provider, waved his hand in dismissal and said in thickly accented English, “Oh, it is easy. No problem!” I chuckled. He was a strapping twenty-something who looked as though he could jog up and down that mountain all day and not feel tired.

In our giddiness to finally be on The Way after a year of planning, praying and physical preparation, the first mile or so didn’t seem so bad. And the view was gorgeous and the weather perfect, (fog and rain had been forecast for our start day, and we were relishing clear skies and warmth), which distracted us a little from our labors.

But then the real climbing started as we broke from the paved road and headed up the livestock path. We wobbled over and around sharp rocks as we made Z patterns up the switchbacks and stopped often to catch our breaths or adjust the position of our backpacks.

Then I found myself hiding in the shade of a tree, panting and sweating, looking down on all of those pristine white farmhouses with their identical red trim. My enthusiasm plummeted. Everything I had worried about in ascending the Pyrenees was coming to fruition.

Going in afraid—

Frankly, I had been terrified of hiking over those mountains. Hadn’t even wanted to go that route to begin with. I’d wanted to start the journey in Roncesvalles, like most other pilgrims, who seemed to be saner than us. This had been Chris’s idea, and he had pushed for it. “I think it would really add to the experience,” he said. “Make it special” Or something to that effect.

Honestly, I was more than a little miffed he was interjecting his plans into myGod-directed pilgrimage. Shouldn’t Ibe the one making the route decision? Nearly everything I read about those mountains talked about them in terms of the “much-feared” Pyrenees; how deadly they could be in bad weather.

But I caved in and tried to train by walking around our 3000-foot elevation, hilly neighborhood, and in Tucson’s mountains. “Remember, Andrea,” he said. “You live in a city with some of the most rugged mountains in the world. Those Pyrenees won’t be anything compared to them!” Humph, how does he know that? I thought. He’s only seen pictures of them.

His pep talk only dampened my worry for a couple of days. I was so worried about it I had a major meltdown the day before we departed Tucson. (The stress of having to prepare to leave the country for a month, with making sure my elderly mother was provided for and calmed down, didn’t help.)

I sat on the family room couch, pounding my fists on my knees and yelling at Chris about how terrified I was of hiking over the Pyrenees, berating him for how he had pushed me to go over those Pyrenees, and screaming and wailing that I didn’t want to hike over those Pyrenees. Ever!

He’d knelt down before me, gathered my hands in his and apologized. Then he encouraged me by saying that if I didn’t want to go, and it was too rough, we could take a cab over the mountain.

Ha! Now here we were, fulfilling what I had feared: Me and my beaten up knees and nodule-sprinkled lungs weren’t going to make it.

But while you can take the athlete out of the competition, you can’t take the competition out of the athlete. I was already on this mountain and determined to fight on.

After my umpteenth stop to slow my heart rate down, we pressed on. Not long after, Chris must have had a revelation because he padded up behind and whispered in my ear: “Don’t forget your training, Mrs. Owan. You should be zigzagging up this mountain.”

Eureka!!! “You’re right!” I responded. “I’d forgotten. All of my hill work at home, zigzagging up our foothills. Thank you for reminding me!”

My giddiness returned as I shifted my backpack again and re-clasped my hiking poles.

And up I went. Crisscrossing the path, weaving around other pilgrims as I greeted them with a wide smile and hearty “Buen Camino!” (The standard Spanish “howdy do” you give other pilgrims as you pass them.)

My heart rate and breathing slowed even as I leaned heavily on my poles. The walk intensity dropped to a level just above feeling easy. And my confidence and enjoyment levels shot up.

It was then I knew that I was going to make it over those mountains.

And thank Chris for pushing for this route.

Even with all of our panting and water breaks, we maintained a rigorous pace and arrived at the Orisson refuge with plenty of time to shower, wash and hang our clothes, enjoy a hot chocolate on the deck overlooking the rolling pastoral vistas of wheat, Basque sheep, cows, and work horses and village of St. Jean, take a nap and socialize with other pilgrims before the 7:00 PM dinner.

And I didn’t forget my zigzagging the rest of the journey, even on the descents. It saved my decrepit knees from disintegrating and the pilgrimage from potentially ending in disaster.

Why zig zag?

Like a switchback trail that cuts off the slope of a mountain, making it easier to climb or ascend it, (even though it inevitably increases the mileage you walk), zigzagging across a moderate to steep path decreases the slope—and difficulty—of the trail. I even used the technique on narrow trails, zig, zag, zig, zag, zig, zag. Shorter steps. Pivot, walk, pivot, walk. And use your poles to maintain your balance and disperse even more of the load, away from your hips and knees.

Like using ski poles as you zigzag down a mountain.

I encourage you to give it try on your next hike with a tough grade. I’m here to testify that it will likely increase your hiking joy and success rate. And let me know if you notice a difference.

Until next week,

Buen Camino!

(And happy zigzagging!)

Blessings,

Andrea

May you prosper in all things and be in health, just as your soul prospers (3 John 2).

Photo by Raphael Biscaldi on unsplash.com

The Blessings and Lessons in the Repetitive and Mundane

The afternoon and evening routine continued nearly everyday. And we grew to appreciate it.

Just as the repetition of the morning preparation to hit the road and walk for four, five or six hours prepared us for the day, the evening repetition helped us recover from the hiking and rejuvenate for the next day. The line-up almost sounds like a reverse of the morning preparation I explained last Friday.

Afternoon and evening rituals—

Arrive at the city you’ve decided to walk to and locate the albergue, pension, hostel or hotel you plan to stay in, or have made reservations with.
Check in, show them your pilgrim credentials for the official stamp, show them your U.S. passport for identification, pay and locate your room and bed.
Be given the ten-minute spiel about requirements at this particular location: where to deposit your dusty shoes, do and hang your laundry, location for dinner and/or breakfast if they provide it and you’ve paid for it.
Peel off your dripping clothes, take a much-needed shower, change into clean, dry clothes and put on compression socks and sandals. Make sure you check your feet and toes for blisters and attend to anything that looks as though it may become a problem. Trim nails, sand down encroaching calluses, etc.
Wash and dry, or hang, your clothes to dry.
Lie down and put your legs up for a while to reduce the swelling and give them a break. See if you can get a leg massage from your beloved hiking partner! Grab a snack if you want, and since it’s likely to be another four to five hours before dinner. Take this time to journal the day’s events and impressions. A nap was another enjoyable event.
Decide what local churches or sites you want to visit and pad around for a couple of hours as pilgrim-tourists.
Show up on time at the place where the local peregrino dinner is served, meet other pilgrims, and enjoy a lengthy fresh and delicious (no preservative, often fresh out of the garden) meal. Three courses for one low price, of course!
Return to your room and prepare for bed: brush teeth, put on your sleeping attire, make sure you’ve got what you for the next day laid out under your bed or on a table and have packed what you don’t think you’ll be using. If your joints and legs are aching, take an anti-inflammatory or rub a topical anti-inflammatory on them.
Lock all valuables in the available locker.
Lay out your silk sleeping bag and/or sleeping bag liner and any provided blanket, turn out the lights and say your prayers. (Lights out was always by 10:00 PM. Alburgue requirement.

Unexpected benefits—

You’d think this would get old. It didn’t. While we didn’t necessarily develop a relish for living like vagabonds out of our backpacks or sleeping in a different bed every night, the mundane routine provided us with an extraordinary benefit we hadn’t expected.

It cleared our brain for experiencing and focusing on impactful places, events and people.

Our brains were stimulated by the changing terrain and weather, the different languages we heard spoken as we walked, the people we met, the interesting conversations we shared with them and one another, each new church we toured and sat in daily to breathe in history, faith-through-the ages, and God’s spirit.

And it only took two days of hiking for my brain to release the unimportant baggage and celebrate its liberation.

How my normally busy brain responded—

Sitting in the 13^thcentury church in Roncesvalles, listening to the Gregorian chants drifting through the nave, I suddenly realized just how relaxed I was. I wasn’t daydreaming. I didn’t have to wrest my thoughts from a lengthy to-do list, other places I should be. No guilt tormented me for not partaking in some other activity that might seem more important, might make someone else happy, might give a leg-up and edge in life.

Instead, I sat and inhaled deeply of the dampness. The dim light enhanced the relaxed state of my body and mind. But the realization that I could—and was—experiencing such peace ignited a spark of joy in my soul.

And more—

Several days later another revelation hit me: I could remember everything I had eaten for breakfast, lunch and dinner, and remembered what I had done, where I had stayed, the names of the pilgrims I had met and talked with, all the details of every day of my pilgrim journey without having to wade through brain file cabinet of incidental distractions and information. And I was stricken with a bout of giddiness.

It wasn’t my age or health causing me to have foggy-brain forgetfulness. It was my lifestyle bogging down my brain. My lifestyle that caused me to live my life in a fog.

It was then that I vowed to never return to the same-old, same-old when I returned home, no matter how hard life and the world tried to shove me back on that overloaded path.

As we did on the Camino, I vowed to chew on life slowly, savior it like the delicacy that it is.

Keeping it going—

I know it will sometimes be a fight, and that I’ll often have to take a stand. But how could I knowingly and willingly re-cloak myself in harriedness when I had gone through such pains to cast it off?

Certainly there will be stressful moments in my life. That’s unavoidable. But when the stress comes now, which it will without warning, I am more likely to withstand it, analyze it appropriately and take effective steps to diffuse or deal with it. I am not so overwhelmed with life and its events that I am paralyzed by indecision or lack of direction.

Now I can understand why so many want to return to the Camino—The Way—over and over again. Five, six or more trips. Some return to recover what they lost. Others return in an attempt to attain what they never found. Still others repeat the walk to keep the change going, like a refresher course to keep your daily life responses on par with what you learned the first time, the way you want it to always be.

The future—

For us, we can’t wait to return to finish what we started, to keep the feelings and experiences going. To instill and deepen the lessons learned.

People said it would be life changing. I didn’t doubt them for a second.

Now I know just how life changing it can be.

Several Fridays ago I promised to give you some concrete ways I’m making sure we’re staying on track with the new normal. We’ll cover that next week.

Until then, take some time to just sit still this weekend, shut out the concerns and pressures and take in the simple pleasures of your surroundings. Don’t think about or worry about where you’re not; focus on where you are.

Blessings,

Andrea

May you prosper in all things and be in health, just as your soul prospers (3 John 2).

3 Reasons Why Everyone (Especially Women) Should Use Hiking or Nordic Poles for Trekking or Fitness!

I’m not going to need to use hiking poles until I’m old! That was my thinking, although I wouldn’t have been able to define what “old” was when those thoughts crossed my mind five years ago.

Then I read an article by a guy who writes for a hiking magazine. A young guy, late twenties or early thirties. He thought hiking poles were for wimps or decrepits, too, until he caved in to a friend’s advice and used them to hike the Kalalau Trail on Hawaii’s island of Kauai. He was an instant convert. In the article, he noted how the poles reduced the load on his knees and made the trek easier and more enjoyable. I could relate. Our family hiked part of the Kalaulua Trail a couple of years earlier, and the return trip was murder, for all of us, including the high school and college kids.

I mentioned the article to my older son—25 at the time—who is an avid hiker. He said, “You, know, I would have said the same thing, until I got my poles. (He got poles?!) And now I use them whenever I’m out hiking. They make a huge difference. Lyndsey (his then fiancée, now wife) loves them.”

“Hmmm, maybe I should get some.” As soon as I voiced that thought, he offered to buy a pair for me for my birthday, and I told him that’s a great present! (Which it is!)

So, I got my poles and have rarely walked even our neighborhood since then without at least one in my hand. And then my younger son got me some spiffy ergonomic models from England last year for Christmas. A Camino alumni highly recommended them. I used mine on our Camino last month, and they saved my legs (and maybe my entire body) on more than one occasion. Chris used his poles too. A couple of years ago I bought a pair for him like the kind Parker had given me.

People have stopped me on hikes around Tucson to ask about my poles and why I use them. After the conversations they’re excited about buying a pair for themselves.

Why do I recommend hiking poles foreveryone? I’ll give you my reasons.

3 reasons all hikers (especially women over 50 years) should use hiking poles:

The number reason, hands down.

They save your knees!

When you’re trudging uphill, you can lean on them to reduce the load from your legs and knees. When you’re going downhill, you can do the same. And the downhill is probably the most significant. Negative loading, which happens when you’re going downhill, stresses the muscles and tears up the joints faster than uphill work. (Unless, of course, you’re climbing over big boulders.)

When going downhill, I’ve actually planted my poles (checking to make sure they’re secure in the terrain) and hopped or swung myself over precarious rocks or steps in the trail. I’m not swinging around like a monkey; just taking short swings over obstacles I might risk falling over.

The rocky incline we had to descend the second day into our Camino last month was brutal and could have been excruciating on the knees. Actually, without the poles I think my knees would have called it quits long before I needed them to. Even with my poles, my knees complained. But I was able to use the poles as supports, like ski poles, as I walked sideways and zigzagged down the mountain, almost as a skier might telemark. I was able to move quickly, without as much risk of slipping or falling, which would have been disastrous on the sharp rocks.

Chris commented that in the first two days of walking the Camino he had never leaned on his poles so hard. At times we were bent over close to 45 degrees on the inclines. If you’re expecting your thighs and knees and ankles and feet to sustain that load without some help, you’re going to quickly regret that thought.

Hiking poles help you maintain your balance.

Walking or hiking with poles is a little like having an extra pair of legs. I was amazed at the number of pilgrims walking without poles; and I was just as amazed by the pilgrims who had poles they dragged along the ground behind them. If they didn’t want to use them, they could have shortened them and stowed them in their backpack. But maybe they weren’t in-the-know on how to properly use them. Or they were so exhausted they couldn’t lift their arms.

As long as you’re not leaning on them while walking on a flat surface, poles help you maintain your center of gravity. That’s good for your biomechanics.

And when walking downhill, you lean forward and use your poles like outriggers. This keeps you from leaning backward, which places a tremendous amount of stress on both the knees and low back!

Getting your arms involved gives you more of a full body workout.

Using poles helps strengthen your arms!(Hey, ladies, are you paying attention?) Planting your poles and pulling and pushing with them works both the biceps and triceps, and that means (drum rolllll!) the flappy arms disappear! They’ll be thinner, tighter and better defined. Getting excited about hiking with poles now?)

And getting your arms involved is great for your heart! Upper body exercises get your heart rate moving faster sooner since they’re closer to your heart than your legs.

Using poles also gets the core and abdominals involved, so they’re more likely to get whittled down and tightened up too.

But you have to know how to use them properly and practice with them. Some people aren’t as coordinated as they need to be to use poles efficiently. I’ve provided a couple of YouTube videos to help you get started. (I don’t make anything from referring you to these videos or products.)

Knowhow—

Rick Deutsch uses Nordic walking poles for an everyday fitness program. The poles he recommends are not for hiking, but they—and the techniques he covers in her video—will give you a great workout. Evidently it’s all the rage in Europe. Deutsch says using poles engages 90% of your body rather than just 70% without any poles.

Heather Rhodes, the physical therapist in the second video, is the developer of Pacer Poles and has an entirely different method for the proper use of poles. What you choose will have to do with your fitness goals, activity, and physical limitations.

Go to the Pacer Pole website to learn more about how to use your poles in walking and hiking situations.

And for those of you hardcore types that want to train for a real tough climb, see this REI video on training to climb a 14er, any mountain meeting or exceeding 14,000 feet in elevation. Their training program is awesome!

Either way, get yourself a pair of poles and starting moving!

NEXT WEEK we’ll have a short discussion on another technique to help you navigate hills—up and down—with less difficulty.

Blessings,

Andrea

May you prosper in all things and be in health, just as your soul prospers (3 John 2).

Photo by Andrea A Owan