I awoke feeling like I’d been hit by a sledgehammer. I was shattered despite sleeping for ten hours. A sure fire sign that I needed to rest. I’ve been resisting taking a rest day for two and a half weeks but have had to give in.
So that is what I decided to do today. Nothing.
At the start of the day, I felt guilty. I thought I should be out there, making progress.
However, I then checked my stats, which is something I haven’t done for a while. I saw that since I started walking, I have climbed more than 43,000 feet on the Offa’s Dyke Path and Wales Coast Path in accumulative terms. To put it in perspective, Everest is 29,000 feet. And I’ve lugged a 20KG the whole way too.
After this realisation, I decided not to be so hard on myself when I’m walking, and to stop being disappointed with what I perceive to be short distances. This isn’t a weekend’s ramble or even a week-long backpacking trek. People who think it is probably haven’t walked more than a thousand miles carrying almost half their body weight on their backs. The only people who understand what this is like is the other people who’ve done it, frankly.
So in sum, I don’t think I’m doing half bad, all things considered.
Oh, and I’ve loved doing nothing today too.