I did a 12 hour walk. The idea was brought on by a social media post followed by two days of random internet searching. Turns out Colin O’Brady, an author and athlete, wrote a book, The 12 Hour Walk, and it has sparked a number of people to try the concept of “unplugging” and removing entertainment, in order to be with yourself, for twelve straight hours. It sounded fascinating. Me being me, I gave myself little time to think it through before I went for it.
I didn’t read the book. I only prepared what little I thought I would need. I choose the soonest day that the temperature would still be under 90 degrees. Two days later I went for it, feet first and brain second. Any more time to dwell would, most likely, keep me from doing it at all. I am exceptionally good at overthinking and excuses.
The concept is really simple. I left my house and wasn’t to be back home for twelve hours. I wasn’t to use any form of entertainment (social media, books, podcasts, music, or other people). It was just me and the path under my feet. The goal wasn’t to go any great distance; it was just to be with myself and to deal with whatever comes up. Honestly, I’m great company, so no problem. Oh, silly Katie.
Within two hours I was in pain. I walked slow(ish) because I knew that I had time, but I obviously don’t know how to take things easy. My hips were killing me, and I could feel the start of blisters on my little toes. I was good enough to myself to rest when I reached a park. I bandaged my toes, sat, and prepared for my next stretch of walking, but patience for the tedious is not a virtue I’m skilled at. Throughout this rest period I felt like I needed to keep moving. It was like this was more for my body than my mind. I didn’t want to listen to myself; I wanted the entertainment of walking. My mind constantly hammering me with the expectation of something to come. She was loud and pushy. Within twenty minutes I was on the move.
It is important to note that I did have my phone, in airplane mode, with me the whole time. I could have called my husband to bring me blister bandages or rescue me from my folly at any time. He is my knight in cargo shorts, after all. I, of course did nothing of the sort. Being the stubborn person that I am, I shuffled another three miles to get to a drug store to try and rescue myself. It didn’t work, by the way, and the pain only stopped if I stopped. I didn’t do that either.
I walked for most of the twelve hours. By the time I was done I had put 13 miles under my feet. I walked through the parks and neighborhoods of my city, seeing places I’d never seen. I didn’t always feel safe, and I was completely lost twice, but I always put one foot in front of the other. Time became weird and pain a constant. I had challenged myself, there was no way I was backing down, but my steps became shorter and my breaks more often. Up until the last three hours, I still thought I was going to be able to make it home. I called for a rescue the moment those twelve hours were up, two miles from home. I had never been so grateful to see that little blue car.
I had watched a few posts and videos about others’ experiences with the walk. Most seemed to be tired yet joyful, or least content with the experience. I was grouchy. I was the grouchiest about the fact that I wasn’t happy. I had given this walk some serious expectations; all it taught me was that my mind is loud and my body is weak. The app that I used to track my path and miles deleted all the info, so I didn’t even have proof. What a bunch of bullshit.
I was frustrated that I didn’t have some sort of huge epiphany, but as I had an Epsom salt soak in my redneck porch tub, I let all that go. It was easier let go than normal and I felt surprisingly settled. I had no desire to be entertained and no worries fighting for my attention. My mind was still talking, but it just didn’t matter. It wasn’t a feeling of peace, like floating on a calm lake, it was more like floating down a river. Things were still going on, but most just passed on by.
It’s been five days since this experience. Muscles in my legs are still protesting use, but not as much. My little toes still have blisters, but they’re getting better. I’ve used my phone for entertainment very little and have decided I’m not a fan of it anymore. Things feel a little different. When talking to others about my walk they almost always ask “Did you have fun?” No, I would not call it fun. It was an experience in endurance, perseverance, and acceptance. And I plan to do it again.
Perhaps I’ll read the book first.
All my love,
Katie
Health Coach Katie 