Camino de Santiago – 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

My Camino wasn’t going to be rising before dawn and rushing through the popular 15-18-mile “stage” in order to make sure I secured a bed at the next town’s cheapest Albergue (like so many of the pilgrims on the path).

My Camino was going to be slowing down, engaging with the history, geography and spirituality. Stopping often to absorb the surroundings, architecture, history and people. Sitting in churches long enough to breathe in the Spirit of God. Trusting that God would provide a place for me to lay my head each night. Teaching myself how to live and walk in a relaxed manner.

Preparing for your day—

When you’re preparing to leave one place you know you won’t be returning to and walking 5 – 15 miles to another location, you plan carefully. You spend some time thinking about what you’re going to wear, how you’re going to pack, in case the weather changes and you need to shed a jacket or get to your rain gear and poncho in a hurry. If you happen to leave something back at the place you slept, you think long and hard about whether you really need it. About whether or not you can buy a replacement in the next tiny village you sleep in.

You get into a rhythm, and you realize quickly just what you need to have and what you can live without. Hopefully you’ve done some serious thinking about this before you’ve arrived to start the walk. Unless you’ve decided to splurge and have a carrier service cart your bag from sleeping town to sleeping town, carrying an extra 2 or three pounds of unnecessary gear in your backpack can be physically and mentally debilitating.

At first it’s a little frustrating and disarming: Where do I keep my pilgrim credentials so I can access them easily to give to the person checking me in at the albergue? Where’s the best place in my backpack to keep my reading glasses so I can access them in a hurry? My sunglasses if the clouds should part? My first aid kit? (Just in case your or another pilgrim needs some care.) A special place for the precious handmade journal my son gave me and insisted I take along. The one I’d weep buckets of tears over if it got wet or lost.

It takes your brain some time to process, the fact that you have to think carefully about these particulars, since you’re more accustomed to being able to jump in the car to rush back where you left something, make an additional trip to the store to buy what you forgot. But the brain is an amazing body part. It eventually learns to accommodate and think in different patterns and meet new demands.

You develop a daily rhythm:

Although this run-down may read like a tedious list, stay with me. I’ll talk about the benefits afterward.

Wake up and rise slowly, stretch the body to prepare it for the day’s walk.
Do your bathroom thing. Since the pottying and washing rooms might be separate, you need to prepare for carting your tooth supplies to a different location for preparation, and your clothes for dressing. Putting in contact lenses might require yet another locale (depending upon sink and mirror availability.)
Roll up and shrink your sleeping bag (if you had to use one) and then spread all of your bags of clothing and necessities out on your bed, to make sure everything is accounted for.
If you haven’t done so the night before, head to the clothesline to gather your clothes and give them a once-over to see if socks, shirts, undies and pants are dry enough to wear or roll up in a baggy. If not, the item will be rolled into a special bag (so as not to dampen other items) or clipped onto your backpack to dry as you walk.
Kinesiotape any body parts that need taping.
Double check the weather and temperature outside and decide on the day’s start-off clothing.
Get your hiking shirt(s) and pants on.
Prepare your feet and toes for the day, carefully put on your socks and then your shoes. (Although you may have to wait until you’re fully dressed and backpacked and headed to the front of the albergue if you’re shoes are stored in a downstairs cubby to keep the floors clean.)
Carefully pack up your backpack—sleeping bag in the very bottom, followed by bath towel and washcloth, silk sleeping bag liner, shower sandals, Ziploc bags of clothes and undies. The tiny pouches of daily contact lenses, foot care tape and pedicure supplies and the one containing general toiletries get tucked into available areas.
Then the journal and pilgrim credential (stored in waterproof bags) are slipped into the backpack and covered by the rain poncho and compressed puff jacket.
The upper pouch gets the Goretex rain jacket and pants (if the jacket isn’t being worn that day for general warmth), along with the assorted eyeglass containers (long distance sunglasses, travel-sized readers, and general long distance (for those times I’m taking a contact lens break). The sports sunglasses—in their case—get attached to the outside of my backpack’s hip pocket pouch for easy access. If I’m not wearing my sunhat that day, it gets folded up and stored in the top pouch too, for easy access. The money pouch, with the United States passport in its waterproof container, goes on top. Just in case we stop for a café con leche, banana or hunk of cheese along the way.
The outside pouch stores the Duck Back cover for my backpack (which I actually don’t need any longer since I purchased a full over-the-backpack-and-me poncho in St. Jean Pied de Pont just before setting out). It also carries my collapsible parachute bag I used for necessities like my United States of America passport and money pouch. The compact first aid get goes there, too, as well as any oranges, cheese or bananas I can squeeze into available space.
The two hip pouches contain lip cream, Euro coinage, the rosary Cory bought me in Rome, the prayer beads my dear girlfriend Judy bought me for my journey, and my hearing aids, which would cost me a small fortune to replace.
Before grabbing my coveted Pacer Poles hiking sticks, I double and triple-check for several items:
Hearing aids in the container (if they’re not in my ears, which Chris always checked for me too).
My phone, which I have only to take pictures, and in case of an emergency, should Chris and I become separated and I need to make contact with someone.
My precious leather journal and pilgrim credentials, to prove I’m on a foot-born pilgrimage and which gives me the right to bed down in an albergue.
Contact lenses
My money pouch and official passport, (which Chris always eyeballs too).
My Kinesiotape, (with which I could not walk comfortable if I were to lose).
Finally, the critical water bottles are topped off and placed in our backpack pockets.
Then the wrist sweatbands go on, followed by the Kool Tie neck wrap tied around my neck to ward off overheating and migraines, the hiking poles are grabbed, and you head out the door for another adventure, which you’ve come to realize you’re going to have. Every day.
The only jewelry I wore was a $15.00 faux pearl and diamond ring, so I didn’t have to worry about losing my real wedding ring or futzing with earrings. No watch, either. I relied on my phone, or the sunlight, for the time. And I didn’t bring any makeup. The only thing I applied to my face was sunscreen.

Not much to worry about.

Preparation time—

Because Chris and I were unhurried, this procedure took us about an hour. On days we wanted to rise early to beat the heat or walk longer distances, we managed to whittle it down to 45 minutes. Because most albergues expect you to vacate by 8:00 AM—to prepare for the next gaggle of pilgrims flooding their dormers—you’d likely have to rise earlier than you might have preferred. Especially if you’re sharing a room with pilgrims on a sprint to their next bed, who awaken you with noisy departure preparations or abrupt, dream-shattering light so they can be off.

Typed out on a word document, the process looks boring and tedious. Too methodical and repetitious. But it quickly became a comfortable ritual, one that gave consistency to our lives and only mildly jostled the brain. Each possession had a purpose and its place. Nothing useless or unnecessary. Everything we carried was meant to meet the basics of our daily needs. There was nothing but the necessaries to weigh us down. And most of it, besides the eyeglasses to see, the hearing aids to hear, the United States passport to move around Europe and get home, and the water was not critical.

Joy, and possibilities, in tedious structure—

The mundaneness had its advantages.

Since my brain had very little to be concerned about every morning, and became accustomed to the repetitive program, it was left with plenty of room to engage in the geography, the new surroundings, sights, smells, tastes and varied languages. New people and interesting conversations. All enjoyed without distractions or waste. Just as I was doing physically, my brain was relishing being able to take a breath.

I started enjoying the simplicity of carrying lightly and started pondering what I carried through life back home—what I’d picked up and carted along in my life “just in case”—that could be discarded.

There were plenty of buying opportunities, (and I had a wad of Euros in my pouch), but with so little room available, and the burden of extra weight to consider, I pondered each purchase with care and conscientious analysis. Something else I knew I needed to do more of in life.

Seriously consider the weight and substance of everything I own, everything I do, everything I buy.

It wasn’t that I was embracing a minimalistic attitude or view of life. If anything I probably found greater emotional joy than I had before in thinking about the beautiful and varied things that enrich my life and bring me happiness and satisfaction. The family heirlooms and pictures that trigger happy memories and the release of feel-good brain chemicals.

But I started asking myself some questions. Questions you may also want to ask yourself:

Introspection—

What things do I too hastily pick up and burden my heart, mind and life with? Do I carefully count the cost of carrying them before picking them up?
What belongings do I have that add nothing to my life, or, worse yet, only make it more complicated and burdensome?
What should and would I divest myself of in order to enjoy a richer, fuller life?
What should I divest myself of in order to invest in deeper, fuller relationships with family, friends and strangers?

It didn’t take long for me to start pondering those questions and soaking myself in the simple, divested life of a pilgrim. After all, I had traveled all that distance to hear what God had to teach me through the experience.

And I was determined to listen.

I’ll tell you more about that NEXT WEEK!

Until then, take some time to count the cost of your belongings and attachments?

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

Multi-Day Hiking Blister Prevention and Care Kit

AS YOU’RE READING this blog post, I’m either sleeping or out walking on the other side of the world. A dream and Heavenly direction that began a little over a year ago and that has involved months of study, preparation and training has arrived. And my beloved and I are on a life-changing pilgrimage. At least that’s what everyone who has experienced it says it will be, and I have no reason to doubt these friends. That’s the expectation we have.

But preparing for this hasn’t been easy. Especially in the what-to-take category. Most specifically in what to take in case of …

My background in play—

As an athletic trainer, I’m used to carrying around an arsenal of goodies to treat athletic mishaps on the spot. Whether it’s blisters, nosebleeds, dislocated fingers, broken limbs, brain-jarring concussions or spinal injuries, we’re prepared.

While the books I’ve read tell me that the countries I’ll be in really do have nice grocery stores and pharmacies, that won’t do me a lot of good if I have to hobble ten miles through a forest or pastoral farmland before reaching one. So, I aimed to be prepared. But prepared meant a small amount of items in very small sizes. Things that would fit in the portable “house” I’m carrying on my back and help aid my walking comfort and sanity.

My hiking mini-arsenal for my feet—to prevent and treat foot injuries and blisters—and why I selected these items:

Two pairs of shoes, a road/trail shoe and a strictly trail pair.

The road/trail shoes provide more support and handle the pounding my feet take on asphalt, which I will be walking on. When I hit the dirt trail, though, I’ll switch to the trail shoes. Better, more lax and forgiving structure for wobbly surfaces.

I had to make the difficult decision to forgo my Keen hiking shoes. I knew I needed to take two pairs of shoes, and the hiking boots are too heavy and too big to fit in my backpack when I’m wearing the other pair. I didn’t want them swinging back and forth on my backpack, either. These Altras are more compressible.

Hiking Poles!

As I mentioned in my last post, I wouldn’t go anywhere without my beloved hiking poles. I’m taking a pair of poles made in England, called Pacer Poles that my younger son gave me for Christmas. I like them because they help me navigate rocks and take the load off my knees, especially on descents. They’re light and the hand grip has an anatomical/ergonomic slant to it, which helps me avoid irritation to my compressed wrist nerves.

Water, Water, Water!

As far as my body and I are concerned, one can never carry enough water. I’m prone to dehydration, especially in heat, so I always need to have water available. No waiting until the next fountain makes its appearance. It reduces my chances of suffering a migraine or other effects of insufficient hydration. Even if it adds weight to my pack (and back), I’ll be loaded up.

Staying hydrated also reduces my chances of getting swollen feet.

Electrolytes

Along with the water, I’ll need to replace electrolytes lost through sweating. I’ve found the Sports Beans brand to help me immensely and perk me up. One bean every fifteen to thirty minutes.

Energy Snack

I discovered the StroopWaffle-style portable energy snack at Seattle’s REI in June, and I LOVE them. I’ll be taking the Stinger brand with me, because they still make a variety of flavors besides chocolate and caramel, including our favorite ginger flavor. They’re easy to pack and eat on the run (or hike) without too much down time or fanfare.

Kinesiotape

I’ll be taping my left ankle, several toes, left hamstring, (allowing that to hurt changes my gait and thus overloads my feet), and left outside foot area, and the ball of my right foot. My tape is a godsend to me. It will also be handy in a pinch to cover a hot spot.

Foot Glide

This is the lubricant I use to apply a light glaze to the ends of my big toes and heals and the ball of my left foot. Works great to reduce hot spots.

Double-layered socks

These socks are light enough and padded enough to be comfortable in my shoes and reduce the friction and shear forces I’ll confront over miles of walking day after day.

Sock liners

These will go on under my double-layered socks. They wick sweat away from my foot and provide an extra layer of friction and shear protection. They’re so thin that they don’t provide additional bulk that make my shoes too tight.

Spenco Second Skin Kit

This will provide me with moleskin and gel pads to patch up any blister that pops up.

Pedicure appliances

Clippers, nail file, scissors and tweezers are essential to keep my nails properly trimmed and rough and hanging skin under control.

Gold Bond Powder

I’ll use this to help keep my feet dry and medicated, especially after a shower.

Lotion

I’m taking a little Gold Bond tube to slather my feet with before bed, but it could be any brand of deep healing lotion. The lotion will keep the calluses down and manageable.

Ibuprofen

An anti-inflammatory will help in a variety of areas, not just in case of an altitude headache. If my feet get uncomfortably swollen, an anti-inflammatory will help reduce it. It will also help if I suffer a case of hiker’s vasculitis—breakdown of blood vessels under the skin and leakage of blood into the tissues. I hadn’t incurred that problem for years, but it happened one night while hiking just prior to my departure. I have to be careful with anti-inflammatories, though. I was prescribed way too many of them when I was competing, which left my stomach damaged. They can cause internal bleeding and blood thinning, so I tread carefully when using them. Fortunately a little for me goes a long way.

First Aid Kit

The little kit will provide me with some antiseptic, more ibuprofen, tape and gauze. Little emergency essentials. I can order refills for this bag.

Emergency reflective blanket

This might not help for my feet, but it will come in handy if one of us gets injured and needs some warmth. Always an essential because you never know what’s going to happen.

Emergency ice pack

This is the kind you squeeze to activate. It’s a chemical-based, one-type use bag. Good for injuries, swelling and reducing swelling around insect bites. It might come in handy for foot and toe hot spots too.

And, finally,

Gaiters—

These will help keep grit, pebbles and dirt out of my shoes and socks. When worn with my rain pants, they’ll also help keep water out of my shoes. While they’re not specifically made to repel rain, they will slow it down.

That’s a wrap! (No intended.)

That’s my care package. See anything you use or think you’d do well to try out?

I’ll let you know how successful I was at selecting my items when I return!

WORKOUT WEDNESDAYS will be on hiatus until October 19. I’ll give you a foot and blister care wrap-up and then head into eating and diet strategy for brain care and aging. I’ll be sharing some great information I’ll be learning at an October 9 conference.

Until then, choose your first aid kid treatment and prevention kit and supplies carefully to keep your feet in shape to keep trekking!

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