Anything worth doing hurts: lessons from a long walk

Twenty two kilometers is a good hike. It’s not a full day’s walk, by any means, but it’s a solid start at a leisurely pace. After a month in Paraparaumu it seemed the perfect way to honor the Kapiti Coast and thank her for the gift of rest, recuperation, and peaceful joy. To walk is to pay careful homage, one footstep at a time, to a landscape, and to give the world back the very thing she gave us: life.

It was at my first break that I realized there was a problem. I felt a slight pinch along the outside of both of my big toes. By lunch my toes were tender with each step. 

About an hour before I got to Pukerua Bay I seriously considered calling my husband and asking him to pick me up. But then, my determination won out over common sense and in my characteristic, bull headed manner, I decided to finish the task at hand and do what I’d set out to do. One of the things I’ve learned over the years is that there is always a point in any adventure that you just want to quit. It hurts. Your heart fails. You question your own ability. It seems as if it’s not worth it to follow through. I’ve also learned that those difficulties can be pushed through, passed over, and the hardships borne, and the victory of accomplishing the hard thing is always worth the passing pain. So, I kept walking.

Days later, I was still paying the price. My feet were in bad shape. I had matching 2×1 cm blisters on the outside of my big toes. My pinkie toe on my left foot was swollen like a sausage. The tips of my toes were so sore that I could barely stand to wear socks… this was fully two days after my walk.  Three weeks later and I’ve got blood blisters, black, beneath four of my toenails, pushing up in such a way that I’m worried about losing the nails.

Tony asked me the next day, after I teared up from banging my toes into a cabbage that was rolling around on the floor of the camper, “So, was it worth it?”

Of course it was worth it! I had a fantastic day. It was a walk, and an adventure that will live in my mind forever. The blisters will pass, the toenails will regrow if I lose them. The memories will last forever.

Here’s the thing: Anything worth doing, hurts. Several times a week I get emails from folks who express envy, or their desire to do some of the things that we get to do, traveling as a lifestyle.

The reality is, most people aren’t willing to push through the hard spots. They call in their safety net the moment it gets tough. They aren’t willing to do without or give up the things they would have to in order to get the postcard moment they want from my world. Dreams come with a cost. If you want to live epically, if you want to do the big things that you dream of, that will pull you out of your status quo and into something bigger and more authentically “you,” it’s going to cost you.  If you’re feeling the angst of midlife and asking, “Wasn’t there supposed to be more than this?” The answer is yes… but it won’t be comfortable. The status quo is easy because it is comfortable, it doesn’t hurt that much. If you want your dreams, you can have them, but you’ll have to work, you’ll have to push, and you’ll have to learn how to suffer.

That’s what I spent the second half of my walk thinking about. It was worth every step.

You can read the whole story here

What are you doing (have you done) that hurts, but is worth it?