In my eighteen years of existence, never have I seen a defined line on the bottom of my calf. Not only do my calves look defined but my whole lower body has become muscularly etched and old bumps are now strong bulges that carry me and my pack through the day. Growing up I always wished for the defined muscular body that our society pushed down our throats through adds for Calvin Kline or Abercrombie and Fitch, but lacking the drive to get up out of bed, I would settle on thin.

My mom, the healthiest person I know, runs for an hour everyday before the average person wakes up for work. I remember how bad of a mood she would be in on trips when she couldn’t run or exercise, thinking how off that was, how I would feel so much better on the days where I didn’t have to move. I didn’t truly understand that grumpiness until Pamplona, when I took my first rest day after three days of being in the hiking groove, and got that Saturday feeling, the one you get after a weekend when school or work becomes real and the fun of freedom drains from you. Since then I have only taken one break-day after our long (and crazy) 55k day where it was needed or my muscles would fall off.

In all this walking I haven’t felt my body break down. Sure it hurts after I work it but to my surprise it has only been good hurt. The kind of hurt that builds you, like getting your ears pierced, sure the stab causes tears but the pride and joy from decorating your body makes up for it. If my body is a temple then there are two daily meditations and a constant stream of people looking to pray at its alter. I try to clean up after them and throw enough coins in the donation basket to support it, but sometimes it’s just too much work to maintain. Although sometimes I can’t keep up with it, in its every day use it seems to be only improving and thus making me feel great. If I could only take one thing from the Camino it’s a greater appreciation for my body and how far and fast it can take me places. Thank you body!

Back in Puente la Reina, when I first found out that Jackson and Evan walked 40k I remember Tracie asking us if we would be up to that and all I thought was Hell no. I don’t know if it was Amber’s excitement for exercise or my competitiveness but a few days later I was suggesting a 50k day to beat their record, and Amber was totally down.

As the days passed by Amber and I set out to train for this idiotic ego boost. We first did a 30k and rested in Burgos, then hiked 42k and took out time for the next two days. Suddenly a Brierley day wasn’t enough and we were doing 30k days to get to bigger towns.

It was in Carrión de los Condes that we met our competitors who were completely oblivious to the competition. Evan and Jackson had been forced to walk their 40k day and did not enjoy it whatsoever, but we had officially beaten them once completing the 42k day, in our training for the mighty 50k day. After a few days of walking with our competition and Aaron, I saw them as less enemy and more friend so we invited them along on our 50k.

A day before the starting town of the 50k day I realized I had messed up my math and had planned a 60k day. Getting nothing but surprise and reluctance, we decided a 60k was too much settling on a 52k day starting from Sahagún to Puente de Castro. With Aaron, Jackson, and Evan still unsure whether they would join us, Amber and I were ready to take on the challenge.

I woke up in Sahagún at 6:30 with all my stuff packed up but my sleeping bag. After a quick yogurt breakfast we set out determined to get there. Pumped for the day and jittery with excitement I set off setting a speedy pace that put me at the front of the pack. That’s when it happened; the clouds closed up and it started pouring, instantly slowing me down and putting me in a bad mood. People where positive they weren’t going to finish it and I was sure I would follow the pack and also certain that I would be disappointed in myself for failing to follow out my plan.

Halfway through the day after a hearty lunch we decided to push on and I had decided, silently, that I would be finishing the day 52k from where I started. I had fallen behind on the stretch between 25k and 30k and passed right by the group who was seated in a park taking a break. Worried because it was two o’clock and we had only done half of the day I kept my steady pace and kept a walkin’.

At the second Brierley ending town we passed through in one day, Mansilla de las Mulas, I decided to wait up for the pack and see if I could gain friends to finish out the journey with. Once they arrived and immediately expressed that they were going to stay there and not go on further, I felt peer pressure creeping in, telling me “you just finished 37k a feat in itself, why more?” I was ready to let go of the 50k day dream. Then Aaron asked if it was another 25k and I answered him with the truth, “it was 6k to the next town, 5k to the one after that and 5k to the goal, making it only about 15k,” completely doable. Aaron’s digging and confidence to push on and finish it out pushed me past true peer pressure and back on to the path determined to achieve my goals.

We said goodbye to Jackson, the only one stoping in Mansilla and headed on. Wow that last 15k was rough. For the first five I put in my music and listened to the only lady that would get me through this, Britney Spears. Keeping a fast pop queen pace I went ahead of the group and began to sing my heart out from early “Baby One More Time” lyrics to her comeback “Circus” tune. I was in Britney heaven- not even the pain of my feet could bring me out of it. But solitude can only last for so long before it gets unbearable, so I decided to join the group for the last 12k, which for some reason they thought was 9k. We walked, me laughing and skipping along determined to ignore the pain and pump everyone up since we had already done so much and were about to set a class record. On the last 2k I felt the exhaustion set in, it was 8 o’clock and I was hungry and tired and my muscles started shaking, but I kept on going getting excited at each sight we saw for our planned Albergue. Once there we were the only ones and were hungry for three meals. Our hospitalera, a nice woman who had snapped her fingers and winced in pain as we told her we had just came from Sahagún, a 54 and a half kilometer stretch according to her, had offered to order food since we were not in a good state to try and convert what we wanted over the phone and would never be caught dead walking the 2k to the supermarket. We ordered two meals each and got 5 Cokes completely free with our order. I was pumped. But thirty minutes later, our food showed up with five blue cans filled with liquid trash. The food was great; I just wished I had something decent to wash it down with.

Not saying you shouldn’t strive to achieve your goals but all I got for mine was a watered down Coke (Pepsi).