Skip to main content

How To Walk 800 km

John is just walking the 80 metres back to his bike here, but you get the general drift. 
The question I get asked more than any other at the end of the Hikoi is "how are your feet?" It's nice that people care, but my feet have never been an issue on long walks. Good shoes and socks prevent blisters and cushion the effects of long distances on hard surfaces, but I have had other issues. When walking the Camino Santiago knees, Achilles tendons and shin splints have all at one time or another given me trouble. This time round, these have all been fine and I finished feeling as though I could just keep on going indefinitely; to Cape Reinga if needs be. Over the last couple of years I have learned 6 things that have made all the difference. Namely:

1. Footwear. On the Camino I wore walking shoes - Salomon in 2009 and Asics in 2012. A year ago I changed to full walking boots - Salomon Cosmic 2 - and the difference was instant and major. When walking more than 15 minutes in my Asics Gel Arata walking shoes I needed supports on both knees, but after 800 km in the boots I have had not the slightest suggestion of problems. I carried the knee supports in my Hikoi pack but didn't use them once. I use Smartwool socks. Blisters are caused by uneven pressures on skin surfaces, which in turn are caused by bunching or ridging in socks, rough patches in shoes, and/or by accumulated sweat. Smartwool socks deal with perspiration fairly effectively. They also fit snugly on the feet and hold their shape no matter how often they are washed.

2. Preparation. My lovely lime green Salomon boots wore out two weeks into the hikoi which annoyed me intensely until I checked my records and found that in the previous year I had walked 800+ km in them. Most of this had been on asphalt, for which the boots weren't really designed, hence the rather low mileage, but it did reassure me that I had put in enough preparatory kilometres.   In the months before heading off to Stewart Island I was walking or cycling at least an hour a day, and going for a lengthy walk (25 km or so)at least once a week. I found that cycling, by building up thigh muscles, is a very good preparation for walking up hills.

3. Nutrition. I actually put on weight on the Hikoi. This is a testament to the hospitality of the people of Southland and Otago, but also a sign that I had my input and output gauged pretty well. A man of my weight burns around 450 calories an hour walking, or about 2,250 calories for a 25 km walk. Add that to the energy required just to keep my vital systems functioning, and my body needs nearly 5,000 calories of energy to stay upright and move itself at 5 kph for 5 or 6 hours. If it doesn't get this amount it will start to look for energy from within its own reserves. It will try to use fat first, but if the difference between input and output is too great the fat won't be able to be metabolised fast enough so the body will use soft tissue and muscle instead - and my joints will suffer.

4. Pace. My natural walking pace is about 6 kph, and Clemency's a bit faster. This time around I aimed at more leisurely 5 kph and made sure we had a break every couple of hours. 

5. Stretching. A simple routine of stretching: first thing in the morning, before setting out and immediately after finishing is a good preventative discipline.

6. Attitude. This last is perhaps the most significant. When Clemency and I first started walking around Dunedin, we hatched a plan to walk from our house in Highgate to St. Clair and back. This seemed to us to be an insurmountably immense distance.... until we actually did it. We found that it was, in reality, a pleasant stroll of about 90 mins (about 8 km) each way, with an even more pleasant half time interlude of coffee and muffin in one of the several beachside cafes. It became something we did often. We found that the tyranny of distance was contained largely between our ears. Most of the ability to walk long distances is in the continual revision upwards of what we think we are capable of and what we think of as a "normal" walk. I guess this psychological training is at least half of the reason for doing the preparation I mentioned above.

Comments

Nick Thompson said…
Sorry about this late comment (I stumbled across this post by way of the ones on General Synod) but I was struck by the way in which your experience of footwear on the Way of Saint James was the opposite of mine.

When I first did the Camino in 1997, I started out in worn-in Merrell walking shoes. By the time I got to the end, like everyone I guess, I was aching all over - my feet and shins especially.

In the years after that I started taking on bits of the various Chemins St-Jacques in France. By accident I started walking in sandals without socks one day - Tevas - as I'd seen some elderly Belgians doing in Spain.

They were a revelation. After that blisters were a thing of the past and, although I still ached at the end of the day, it was never with anything like the intensity I'd experienced the closer I got to Santiago.

I guess each person's physiology is different, but I've recommended good sandals for the Camino ever since!

cheers,

Nick Thompson
Theology, University of Auckland

Popular posts from this blog

Ko Tangata Tiriti Ahau

    The Christmas before last our kids gave us Ancestry.com kits. You know the deal: you spit into a test tube, send it over to Ireland, and in a month or so you get a wadge of paper in the mail telling you who you are. I've never, previously, been interested in all that stuff. I knew my forbears came to Aotearoa in the 1850's from Britain but I didn't know from where, exactly. Clemency's results, as it turns out, were pretty interesting. She was born in England, but has ancestors from various European places, and some who are Ngāti Raukawa, so she can whakapapa back to a little marae called Kikopiri, near Ōtaki. And me? It turns out I'm more British than most British people. Apart from a smattering of Norse  - probably the result of some Viking raid in the dim distant past - all my tūpuna seem to have come from a little group of villages in Nottinghamshire.  Now I've been to the UK a few times, and I quite like it, but it's not home: my heart and soul belon...

Kindle

 Living as I do in a place where most books have to come a long way in an aeroplane, reading is an expensive addiction, and of course there is always the problem of shelf space. I have about 50 metres of shelving in my new study, but it is already full and there is not a lot of wall space left; and although it is great insulation, what is eventually going to happen to all that paper? I doubt my kids will want to fill their homes with old theological works, so most of my library is eventually going to end up as egg cartons. Ebooks are one solution to book cost and storage issues so I have been  using them for a while now, but their big problem has been finding suitable hardware to read them on.  I first read them on the tiny screens of Ipaqs and they were quite satisfactory but the wretchedness of Microsoft Reader and its somewhat arbitrary copyright protection system killed the experience entirely. On Palm devices they were OK except the plethora of competing and incomp...

En Hakkore

In the hills up behind Ranfurly there used to be a town, Hamilton, which at one stage was home to 5,000 people. All that remains of it now is a graveyard, fenced off and baking in the lonely brown hills. Near it, in the 1930s a large Sanitorium was built for the treatment of tuberculosis and other respiratory ailments. It was a substantial complex of buildings with wards, a nurses hostel, impressive houses for the manager and superintendent and all the utility buildings needed for such a large operation. The treatment offered consisted of isolation, views and weather. Patients were exposed to the air, the tons of it which whistled past, often at great speed, the warmth of the sun and the cold. They were housed in small cubicles opening onto huge glassed verandas where they cooked in the summer and froze in the winter and often, what with the wholesome food and the exercise, got better. When advances in antibiotics rendered the Sanitorium obsolete it was turned into a Borstal and...

The Traitor

A couple of people have questioned me privately about the Leonard Cohen song The Traitor , and about Cohen's comments on the song, "[The Traitor is about] the feeling we have of betraying some mission we were mandated to fulfill and being unable to fulfill it; then coming to understand that the real mandate was not to fulfill it; and the real courage is to stand guiltless in the predicament in which you find yourself". What on earth does he mean, and why am I so excited about it? For the latter, check with my psychiatrist. For the former, my take on the song is this: The Traitor is another of those instances, as in The Partisan , where Leonard Cohen uses a military metaphor to speak of life in general and human love in particular. Many of us hold high ideals: some great quest or other that we pursue. These are often laudable things: finding true love, finding the absolute love of God, becoming enlightened, spreading the Gospel, writing the great novel or some such ...

Camino, by David Whyte

This poem captures it perfectly Camino. The way forward, the way between things, the way already walked before you, the path disappearing and re-appearing even as the ground gave way beneath you, the grief apparent only in the moment of forgetting, then the river, the mountain, the lifting song of the Sky Lark inviting you over the rain filled pass when your legs had given up, and after, it would be dusk and the half-lit villages in evening light; other people's homes glimpsed through lighted windows and inside, other people's lives; your own home you had left crowding your memory as you looked to see a child playing or a mother moving from one side of a room to another, your eyes wet with the keen cold wind of Navarre. But your loss brought you here to walk under one name and one name only, and to find the guise under which all loss can live; remember you were given that name every day along the way, remember you were greeted as such, and you neede...