I thrive on adventure, particularly physical and mental challenges. I feel awkward sharing my accomplishments, but inside I have all kinds of pride when I achieve what I set my mind to. I love that momentary feeling. Honestly, planning and preparation are the best part. In the past, I gravitated mostly to athletic goals, running marathons, and the like. I added biking and open water swimming to complete a half-Ironman triathlon (sheesh, I’ll never do that again!). My beloved mother used to say, “I don’t know why you do that to yourself.” I don’t know why I do that to myself either sometimes. But there is something inside that needs to be fed.

I’ve done some traveling in my life, mostly in Europe, and if I had it my way, I’d see the whole world. But, you know, it’s kinda expensive, and the pesky job gets in the way. When I heard about the Camino the first time, the idea of combining a physical challenge with travel, plus the whole spiritual aspect, I knew I had to do it. Except, I hate walking. I’ll run 10 miles, but please, get the parking space closest to the store! I adapted though. Walking the Camino was one of those life-changing experiences, unlike any other physical challenge or travel excursion. I have to write about it. Tell someone. This took place in 2013, and my memory isn’t what it used to be, so I have the grand idea of walking it again on the coastal route. The problem is, I’ve been sitting in bed for the last 7 years. Well, that’s an exaggeration, but there is that pesky depression that strikes me now and again. I’d really like to bookend these difficult years with another walk. Maybe it will happen.