What was your meltdown point?

[Delphinoula]

Not really a meltdown, but more of a self-pitying thought that lasted all of (maybe) a minute on the meseta under empty skies, 40 plus degree temps, after 30km, and no shade, town, or bar in sight: "What the hell am I doing this for?"

Yeah, that lasted long (like I said, less than a minute), then it was "Oooh, look, shiny thing!"

I think that’s one of the signs that you are doing everything right.

 

[RJM]

I both experienced close to what you might call a meltdown as well as an epiphany. Three years ago, my peregrino friend and I reached Los Arcos after a day’s walk from Estella. While strolling around the center of town, we suddenly found ourselves to be fenced in. Upon enquiring what was up we were told that there was going to be a bull run. Bull run was not something I had been expecting, but before we could escape, the run had already started. We had to endure the event until it was over.
It was a harrowing experience seeing the bull being chased down by a horde of people, both young and middle aged. I could see fear being written all over the face of the bull as it was desperately trying to escape through any possible opening. I could literally see foam oozing out of the mouth of the panic-stricken bull. I was surprised to see that several peregrinos in the crowd were even clapping and cheering for the chasers of the bull. While the bull was eventually able to meander its way out of the immediate center of town, two more bulls showed up and went through a similar experience as the first one.
I had a hard time reconciling myself with the fact that I should be experiencing the torture of an animal while on a spiritual journey. It pained me even more that the same display was played out on even a bigger scale on another Camino town, Pamplona. The agonizing thoughts kept me up most of the night.
The bright side from the first-hand experience in Los Arcos was that having seen the plight of the bull turned me into an ardent advocate for animal welfare and plant-based diet.

If one of the peregrinos was holding a cold Estrella Galicia beer and it was in the little plaza there in Los Arcos, it might have been me, lol. I've stayed in that town before during those festivities, and they do it in Puente la Reina as well.
Also, those are not bulls, at least most of them from what I saw. They are young cows and some steers too, I think. I did see them run one young bull that had the classic fighting bull look to it, but it was not very aggressive. If they were to actually let loose real Spanish fighting bulls in that small town it would probably be too hazardous.
Those livestock live to see the sundown, unlike Pamplona where they fight later on. I would guess that mongrel mix of cows and steers in Los Arcos are owned by a local there and they run the same ones every year and by evening they are back in pasture munching on grass.

 

[cbacino]

In another thread Dave posted this:

Which got me thinking of the times when I've 'hit the wall.' and how different it feels to walk day after say as opposed to undertaling a shorter, limited duration event like (say) a marathon or triathlon. It's easier to persevere in the latter two, because when it's over, it's over. But the camino has a relentessness that can really wear on you.

On day 2 of one of my early journeys on the Frances I was in a lot of pain from some mysterious foot complaint. So somewhere between Zubiri and Pamplona I just sat down on the verge of the road, and angrily threw my boots off onto the dirt like a 2 year-old having a tantrum. The hissy-fit only lasted a few minutes, then I just felt ridiculous. So I changed my shoes, got up, and just kept walking - and all was well in the end. I learned that day that meltdowns are definitely temporary...

Which didn't stop me several days later from pouring myself into a bar in Atapuerca and just collapsing into self-pity. That day, the weather felt like a combination of a firehose and a wind turbine an I'd had it!

But these moments seem to happen less and less the more the camino 'breaks me in.' Each walk has been different, but meltdowns don't happen so much anymore, if at all. Which is only a blessing that I don't assume to be permanent...

I wonder if I'm the only one. What's your meltdown point, what does it look like, and has it become a moving target?

Getting bed bugs in my sleeping bag. Nothing a good hot laundromat dryer couldn’t fix.

 

[Delphinoula]

great post, I remember the day when I was walking pass the Iron Cross, at sunrise a great start to a beautiful day. About 3 hours later, I remember going through this very small town, seemed deserted. then going down this small rocky path, starting from large boulders to small stones. I knew the stones would be tearing up my feet,; I had just recovered from some large blisters from the week before. I was angry, exhausted and sad to say, cussing out load-thinking I deserve better; It seemed like it was never going to end. This day was my worst day, harder then the first day from SJPP. In my mind, I knew there was going to be an end, I really had no justification for feeling that way, and was acting like a spoiled brat, knowing others had it worse then that. Also, somewhat ashamed for my thoughts and cussing out load.

Bless your heart. Last day walking to Santiago I again was waddling through the umpties time through deep mud I was chanting pig path pig pig road piggy pigetity pig

 

[Former member 59618]

Like...we weren't? Thete's no way of knowing that.

Actually it sounds like lots of prayers were being said and answered: if you pray for strength, likely what you're going to get are the difficult conditions that cause it to develop. Nothing gets delivered on a silver platter...

I dunno about nothing being delivered on a silver platter...sounds a bit Puritan and Judeochristian to me. There have been things that have been effortlessly “delivered” to me after prayer, especially on the Camino (Camino angels, etc). Sometimes you’re out thorough the ringer to develop character and sometimes, things just come easy

 

[VNwalking]

Puritan and Judeochristian

Nah...haha...I'm definitely neither of these.

But I do value challenge. Managed skillfully, it's a gold mine. What I was thinking when I wrote that is that 'spiritual' activities and experiences are not universally lovely and full of light. Yes, you're right - sometimes things do 'drop into our laps.' But if the opposite happens...well...it's something to use.

 

[Gadflyparexcellence]

If one of the peregrinos was holding a cold Estrella Galicia beer and it was in the little plaza there in Los Arcos, it might have been me, lol. I've stayed in that town before during those festivities, and they do it in Puente la Reina as well.
Also, those are not bulls, at least most of them from what I saw. They are young cows and some steers too, I think. I did see them run one young bull that had the classic fighting bull look to it, but it was not very aggressive. If they were to actually let loose real Spanish fighting bulls in that small town it would probably be too hazardous.
Those livestock live to see the sundown, unlike Pamplona where they fight later on. I would guess that mongrel mix of cows and steers in Los Arcos are owned by a local there and they run the same ones every year and by evening they are back in pasture munching on grass.

Hopefully you're right. Nonetheless I shudder to think that given the trauma that they went through at this small scale event, what their counterparts might be experiencing on much bigger occasions. It's really puzzling to think how one could derive pleasure/enjoyment from the suffering of others.

I would look you up - with Estrella Galicia beer as the pointer - during my next trip through Los Arcos, under a more uplifting circumstance. Best

 

[Delphinoula]

The Canals leading up to Sevilla were built by prisoners of the Franco Regime talking about pain suffering and death. Canals of tears. All it needed then was to be in any way shape or form against Franco.Now those canals keeping the earth green. So I remembered them and gave thanks to them and hope their toil is not forgotten.

 

[RJM]

Hopefully you're right. Nonetheless I shudder to think that given the trauma that they went through at this small scale event, what their counterparts might be experiencing on much bigger occasions. It's really puzzling to think how one could derive pleasure/enjoyment from the suffering of others.

I would look you up - with Estrella Galicia beer as the pointer - during my next trip through Los Arcos, under a more uplifting circumstance. Best

I believe those type of festivities go back to the 14th or 15th century if I am not mistaken. You should have asked some of the locals about it. I did. In fact there were a couple of locals in the group I was drinking beer with. They were very gracious and informative.

 

[henrythedog]

Having completed multiple previous caminos I hit my personal mental wall last month on the Camino de Madrid.

A sudden recurrence of very painful plantar fasciitis made the first three days challenging.

The walk into Cercedilla on day 4 was excruciating, but the mental hit was when I fell for a set of ‘cafe arrows’ which took me off route. The cafe was shut for the winter! I didn’t see the funny side of the situation one little bit.

I’m into good physio now, but it’ll be a couple of months before I can do more than 10-15k in a day

 

[VNwalking]

The walk into Cercedilla on day 4 was excruciating, but the mental hit was when I fell for a set of ‘cafe arrows’ which took me off route. The cafe was shut for the winter! I didn’t see the funny side of the situation one little bit.

Ouch.
Yeah, I wouldn't have been laughing either.
May your physio go well!

Those places where expectations are raised, then dashed - these are where it's so easy to go out of balance, especially at the end if the day or when there's pain.

Oddly, the only time I really hurt myself on the camino (falling hard on my face), I was still able to walk 30 km that day and was full of joy. I think it was either endorphins or shock. The next say was much harder.

 

[Camino Chrissy]

Ouch.
Yeah, I wouldn't have been laughing either.
May your physio go well!

Those places where expectations are raised, then dashed - these are where it's so easy to go out of balance, especially at the end if the day or when there's pain.

Oddly, the only time I really hurt myself on the camino (falling hard on my face), I was still able to walk 30 km that day and was full of joy. I think it was either endorphins or shock. The next say was much harder.

This reminds me, VN, that last pring, I fell on the Fisherman's route in Portugal. Although not flat on my face, I was thrown forward as I tripped on an embedded rock, slamming me to the ground, hitting my chest hard. I thought I had strained a pectoral muscle and kept feeling pain in certain movements, but was still able to carry my pack each day. After returning home three weeks later and having an xray, I discovered I had two fractured ribs. On top of it, I had a pretty miserable cold for two weeks at the same time...still no meltdown, but I was definately lost my mojo and no longer on my A-game.

 

[adrianm4492]

Hiking 20 k up the 1060 meter Ibaneta pass via the Valcarlos route the first time in 2004 at 65 to the monastery at Roncevalles was one of the most difficult days on the Camino and certainly the most physically exhausting day of my adult life then to date. I was pooped! Although I had hiked throughout the summer in preparation for the trip, nothing had prepared me for such an effort. Beneath a deep blue sky and brilliant sun I gasped and ached while my pack weighed like bricks.

After hiking about 5 hours I finally staggered over the pass into a picnic area filled with a munching mob; they had arrived by bus and cars! Never will I forget the look that one très correct French woman drinking champagne from a crystal flute, no plastic for her, gave me as I trudged past exhausted! ET would have been better received. A kindly couple from Scotland offered me the best ever cup of tea from their thermos. Refreshed I continued on to the monastery, happy that the path was now slightly downhill....Eventually I made it to Santiago walking all the way.

On that first Camino I learned the hard way that this is NOT a walk in the park! For the next nine times what mattered most was to DO IT!

I don't know if it was a meltdown but on my second Camino I got to this point in late January with a torrential blizzard blowing at 90 degrees straight into my face. I was trying to walk in four feet of fresh snow, was drenched through due to not having a poncho, was frozen to the core and couldn't get up a steep embankment due to the slippery snow. I genuinely feared for my life. If someone had have been sitting the sipping champagne at the top i would have happily smashed their real glass over their head!

 

[VNwalking]

@adrianm4492 , that definitely counts.

 

[Karl Oz]

This reminds me, VN, that last pring, I fell on the Fisherman's route in Portugal. Although not flat on my face, I was thrown forward as I tripped on an embedded rock, slamming me to the ground, hitting my chest hard. I thought I had strained a pectoral muscle and kept feeling pain in certain movements, but was still able to carry my pack each day. After returning home three weeks later and having an xray, I discovered I had two fractured ribs. On top of it, I had a pretty miserable cold for two weeks at the same time...still no meltdown, but I was definately lost my mojo and no longer on my A-game.

A broken rib is not nice at all.

 

[VNwalking]

I tripped on an embedded rock, slamming me to the ground, hitting my chest hard. I thought I had strained a pectoral muscle and kept feeling pain in certain movements, but was still able to carry my pack each day. After returning home three weeks later and having an xray, I discovered I had two fractured ribs.

Ouch! And you cheerfully walked all that way, Chris?
(Well, you were pleny cheerful in Santiago, anyway...)
Wow. You do have a high meltdown threshold!

 

[Camino Chrissy]

Ouch! And you cheerfully walked all that way, Chris?
(Well, you were pleny cheerful in Santiago, anyway...)
Wow. You do have a high meltdown threshold!

Yep, still quite cheerful as the pain wasn't all that bad. I also had a nasty cold at the same time, but still no meltdown...I was in a bit of a funk though for awhile.

 

[Brian E]

I am kind of in the camp that the term "Meltdown" is kind of a strong word and the implied meaning can probably differ to people. I posed a somewhat similar question/topic awhile back before my first Camino and happy and thankful to report after 3 Caminos no official meltdowns. In case anyone is interested in seeing some of the responses...

https://www.caminodesantiago.me/community/threads/that-one-dispairing-moment.52574/#post-651082

 

[ginniek]

Happy to say “no meltdown points” so far on any Caminos. The three of us might get a bit snitchy with each other, as you do when you get tired and irritable. Maybe it’s our running training that kicks in. With distance running it’s more mental than physical and you can break difficult parts into sections and count it down as you go. Tricking yourself that it’s not that much further (to the top of the mountain, along a boring section of tar, etc...) is useful and also good uplifting music is excellent to be able to disconnect from the fatigue or pain. We only use our music when it is getting to that point as we don’t want to disconnect to everything happening around us when everything is good. I find it easy to autopilot when it starts to get difficult and just think “come on....5 kms is just a parkrun, it’s not that far really” Walking into Ourense tomorrow, hopefully I haven’t jinxed myself and lose the plot somewhere

If you hadn't already planned to do so, spend some time soaking in the pools at one or more of the great hot springs in Ourense.

 

[Kimball]

In another thread Dave posted this:

Which got me thinking of the times when I've 'hit the wall.' and how different it feels to walk day after say as opposed to undertaling a shorter, limited duration event like (say) a marathon or triathlon. It's easier to persevere in the latter two, because when it's over, it's over. But the camino has a relentessness that can really wear on you.

On day 2 of one of my early journeys on the Frances I was in a lot of pain from some mysterious foot complaint. So somewhere between Zubiri and Pamplona I just sat down on the verge of the road, and angrily threw my boots off onto the dirt like a 2 year-old having a tantrum. The hissy-fit only lasted a few minutes, then I just felt ridiculous. So I changed my shoes, got up, and just kept walking - and all was well in the end. I learned that day that meltdowns are definitely temporary...

Which didn't stop me several days later from pouring myself into a bar in Atapuerca and just collapsing into self-pity. That day, the weather felt like a combination of a firehose and a wind turbine an I'd had it!

But these moments seem to happen less and less the more the camino 'breaks me in.' Each walk has been different, but meltdowns don't happen so much anymore, if at all. Which is only a blessing that I don't assume to be permanent...

I wonder if I'm the only one. What's your meltdown point, what does it look like, and has it become a moving target?

Zubiri and Pamplona? What a killer stretch. It was terrible. My calves and quads cried. I tool the bus after to recover.

 

[maryalex]

In another thread Dave posted this:

Which got me thinking of the times when I've 'hit the wall.' and how different it feels to walk day after say as opposed to undertaling a shorter, limited duration event like (say) a marathon or triathlon. It's easier to persevere in the latter two, because when it's over, it's over. But the camino has a relentessness that can really wear on you.

On day 2 of one of my early journeys on the Frances I was in a lot of pain from some mysterious foot complaint. So somewhere between Zubiri and Pamplona I just sat down on the verge of the road, and angrily threw my boots off onto the dirt like a 2 year-old having a tantrum. The hissy-fit only lasted a few minutes, then I just felt ridiculous. So I changed my shoes, got up, and just kept walking - and all was well in the end. I learned that day that meltdowns are definitely temporary...

Which didn't stop me several days later from pouring myself into a bar in Atapuerca and just collapsing into self-pity. That day, the weather felt like a combination of a firehose and a wind turbine an I'd had it!

But these moments seem to happen less and less the more the camino 'breaks me in.' Each walk has been different, but meltdowns don't happen so much anymore, if at all. Which is only a blessing that I don't assume to be permanent...

I wonder if I'm the only one. What's your meltdown point, what does it look like, and has it become a moving target?

I didn't have a meltdown, but I did have a Bad Attitude Day. Many of the people I'd met at Orisson or a little later were stopping in Burgos and taking the train to Madrid to play a few days. I recall being pouty and thinking.. I wanna go play in Madrid! I had a rest day in Burgos and by the time I was walking I'd talked to myself. "You can walk or you can leave. You do not have an option of walking and whining." And I was ok after that. well.. until I got pneumonia. LOL

 

[AlwynWellington]

@VNwalking , coming to your thread as I prepare for my sixth really long distance walk because I found a reference to Via Francigena in a post above. Thank you for starting it and reading the posts and your so thoughtful responses.

I had started from Le Puy in early April after four years of training and planning to honour and in memory of my late wife, Cathy.

My first meltdown was as I was about to descend the stairs out of the Cathedral at Le Puy: I was transfixed to the spot thinking "would I be able to do any honour by completing the walk we had planned together". The moment passed and within the hour I was meeting pilgrims and walked with one from lunch time.

Early May and I had passed through Pamplona with many adventures and people met in France and also in Spain after only 2 days. Crested Alto del Perdon and, beside the silhouette montage, looked at the accommodation list to decide my next stop. I saw the next village had one albergue with 12 beds. At that moment six pilgrims walked past. When I saw the surface of the descent I quaked. The only time I slipped in four years of training was on the same type of surface: variably sized rubble on a sloping rutted surface. So went down slowly and carefully with short deliberate steps. Then I saw a giant's staircase: the depth to the next step was about 500 millimetres compared to about 200 mm in multistory buildings. Took one slowly, then the next, then flew down the remaining dozen or so. And, as it happens, had bypassed the six for passed me at the crest.

Started off the next day and about 30 minutes later had a pain in my right hip. I completed the day to Estella. A hospitalero from Brazil was most helpful, advised me to get medical advice and walked me most of the way to the bus station the next morning. The ride to Logrono was most instructive, including meeting a woman from Chicago whose brother coached a women's rugby team. From Logrono made Najera in two days and then bused to Burgos. The next day walked to Tarjados and the day after to Hontanas with quite a bit of pain. The next morning I could not move independently and an ambulance was called.

My second meltdown moment was when the ambulance doors closed. I remembered my thoughts in the cathedral at Le Puy and sobbed uncontrollably.

In London, with confirmation it was only pulled muscles and help from Osteopath and by keeping the hip muscles active I was able to walk Thames Path and then from Southwark to Canterbury. It was on the approach to Canterbury I serendipitously found the perfect exercise. This was three stiles: the way in which I had to lift the leg up and over was the key. The first stile was a bit awkward, the second a few minutes later less so and a few minutes on I nearly flew over the third.

The next year I returned to Estella and finish at Compostela, stopping at Hontanas to present a small token of appreciation to the owner/hospitalero.

Once again, @VNwalking , thank you for such an interesting thread.

 

[Debbiecb]

I started walking from SJPdP and found my Camino family in Beilari. We walked together to Pamplona and I realized I wanted to pare down my backpack so I had to go Correos next the morning and mail it to Santiago. I told my Camino family to start walking and I would catch up with them. Well, it took me two hours after they left to get out of Correos. I got a cab driver who spoke no English to take me to the Camino trail. Well, he did take me to the trail, but he took me back to Larrasoana. So I had to walk back to Pamplona and was looking to take a bus to Puente la Reina. I used my GPS and got lost and walked for hours. I was getting so frustrated and scared and started crying feeling so helpless and lost. I posted on the Camigas website and told them I was lost in Pamplona and I had the most amazing responses. Women started to reply to help me and one woman called me on Facebook messenger told me how to get to the bus station, what bus to take and told me to keep in touch with her. I made it and so grateful for the help of the women. I assumed I would not see my Camino family again. I found a nice Albergue in Puente la Reina and went out to find a place to eat dinner and in the back of the restaurant I was going to eat I found my Camino family. That day was frustrating but also a day of miracles and I realized the truth that the Camino provides.

 

[fred4ski]

In another thread Dave posted this:

Which got me thinking of the times when I've 'hit the wall.' and how different it feels to walk day after say as opposed to undertaling a shorter, limited duration event like (say) a marathon or triathlon. It's easier to persevere in the latter two, because when it's over, it's over. But the camino has a relentessness that can really wear on you.

On day 2 of one of my early journeys on the Frances I was in a lot of pain from some mysterious foot complaint. So somewhere between Zubiri and Pamplona I just sat down on the verge of the road, and angrily threw my boots off onto the dirt like a 2 year-old having a tantrum. The hissy-fit only lasted a few minutes, then I just felt ridiculous. So I changed my shoes, got up, and just kept walking - and all was well in the end. I learned that day that meltdowns are definitely temporary...

Which didn't stop me several days later from pouring myself into a bar in Atapuerca and just collapsing into self-pity. That day, the weather felt like a combination of a firehose and a wind turbine an I'd had it!

But these moments seem to happen less and less the more the camino 'breaks me in.' Each walk has been different, but meltdowns don't happen so much anymore, if at all. Which is only a blessing that I don't assume to be permanent...

I wonder if I'm the only one. What's your meltdown point, what does it look like, and has it become a moving target?

I had a meltdown in O Cebreiro. I think i was on my 20th day and the long uphill hike, running out of daylight...very tired. Several pilgrims had said it was a special, great town. As soon as I saw it i realized it was a 'disneyland' type re-enactment town and very touristy. It was fFoggy, couldn't see 10ft in front of me, and couldn't find the muni Alburgue. I asked at several hotels/restaurants - they all wanted 40euro for a room. At the second one in the middle of a restaurant I lost it and lashed out at the pompous innkeeper... very embarrassing. After 2 hours of going in circles i had to go back and eat crow and shell over 40euros for a tiny room with thin walls, no hot water and a terrible bed. The next morning, i saw the Alburgue 2 blocks away. After that - it was all better: i vowed to 'accept what is given'

 

[Bradypus]

Mine was arriving in Sarria on my last Camino Frances walk in 2016. Having good memories of the place from previous Caminos I was looking forward to seeing it again and having lunch there. Probably having a short day for a change and wandering around in the evening. When I saw what a hideous tacky theme park it has become I became full of anger, lost my appetite completely and stormed through the place without even stopping for a drink or to refill my water bottle. I have never abandoned a Camino part-way except for two occasions when physical injury stopped my progress completely. But for the next couple of hours after Sarria I seriously considered tearing up my credencial and going home from the next bus stop or train station. I eventually calmed down, found a quiet place for the night and continued my journey the next day in a better frame of mind.

A close runner-up is probably the moment in the pilgrim office when I was told that it is now obligatory to walk the last 100km on an approved route to receive a Compostela. Entirely by chance the final 102km of my journey had been on an official path and therefore I technically just qualified for a Compostela. I think that I only just managed to contain my anger and remain polite as I told the volunteer that in those circumstances I no longer wanted a Compostela and asked for my credencial to be returned and for the form I had filled in to be torn up.