15 life lessons from a 12-hour walk
So one Saturday, I walked outside my door just after sunrise and kept walking … for 12 hours. Here’s what I learned.
So, Saturday, 19 September 2022. I walked outside my door just after sunrise. A small pack on my back. No one at my side. Nothing in my ears. My phone in airplane mode. I walked and hiked for 12 hours in silence. I returned just after dark, having walked 36.64 kilometres. I learned many things, taking the time and spending the energy to live one day of my life in constant, quiet, forward movement.
Among them, yes, humans are capable of far more than we think. Absolutely. Also, if you’re in it for the long haul (and I guarantee you, in the 11th hour, 12 hours will feel like a long haul), you’ve got to take care of yourself. But I’ll get to more of the lessons in a minute.
Where did I get this idea — to just walk out into nature on my lonesome from sunrise to sundown, untethered from the modern world? Colin O’Brady gave an interview with the Next Big Idea Podcast earlier this summer and I was hooked from the moment he told his story. A ten-time world record holder who’d been in a tragic accident in Thailand and told he might never walk again normally, Colin proposed the solo, silent, 12-hour walking retreat as a path towards what he calls the Possible Mindset.
No stranger to thinking nearly anything is possible, nor the power of exercise, meditation and unplugging, I didn’t take a lot of convincing. In fact, as soon as I had heard about the 12-hour walk, I was dying to go. I had only two problems: find a free weekend and convince my family I could do it.
I quickly solved the first challenge. I picked a weekend in September, and set the walk on a day I normally did my tech shabbats. No guests were planned, no workshops to attend, I could plan my work projects for during the week. Okay, done. I checked I would have 12 hours of sunlight, and indeed I would. Weather very windy, but possible. Okay, all good.
I decided to tell my family on the Thursday before the Saturday walk. I had planned my route, thought about my supplies, checked with my fitness coach on my physical capacity. It was all good. My husband asked me if I had booked a medical appointment for the Monday as he thought I’d be pretty banged up after walking 12 hours. I smiled politely and responded that I would be fine. I knew how to pace myself, and if I fell or injured myself, I would listen to my body and call emergency services if necessary. Good. Right answer. Box checked.
Problems solved, I set out early last Saturday morning in 30 km winds.
12 beautiful, long, solo hours in nature, in one of France’s most beautiful locations. I had chosen my route for its beauty — in fact, much of the walk was a hike, with a total elevation of over 692 meters (it was higher, but my watch died in the 7th hour, so I don’t know the full total; note to self: bring an external battery next time). I hiked and walked the cliffs around the Giens Peninsula, all of which I had hiked in sections over the years. This would be my first time hiking the entire peninsula in one outing, and first I had to walk there (and get back). I was told I could do the hike around Giens in 6–7 hours. A couple of hours to get there, and a couple hours to get back — so a route that was manageable within 12 hours. Right? Right.
Here’s what happened and here’s what I learned. Some, possibly all, of the lessons apply to life, and so, if you ever come to visit me, don’t be surprised if you find them posted on my fridge next to my Thoreau quotes. 😄
Lessons learned from a 12-hour walk
- Be prepared — Be the good scout, and take what you’ll need in terms of water and food (if you can’t carry all the water you’ll need, get more on the way). I also took a head lamp, basic first-aid supplies, an extra pair of socks, a windbreaker, a phone, a watch, my ID and a little money. Make sure your route, if you plan it in advance, really is doable. Build in wiggle room, because …
- Your plan will go askew — Because yes, all the best plans do. Be prepared for things to go sideways, to get lost, to have maybe underestimated the challenges or overestimated your capacity. When this happens, and it will …
- Enjoy the journey — Including those long moments when you are lost; you will find your way again. The important thing to keep in mind, when you’re out there for 12 hours is …
- It’s not a race — It doesn’t matter how fast some people are going. They are joining and leaving you at different points in the path and it really won’t matter at the end who got there first. Remember …
- If you’re in it for the long haul (and I guarantee you, in the 11th hour, 12 hours will feel like a long haul), you’ve got to take care of yourself — That means resting when you need to rest, drinking and eating something every 45 minutes, sitting down and changing your socks half-way through, listening to your body. Keep in mind, though, that …
- A body in motion stays in motion — Yes, Newton’s First Law: “A body at rest will remain at rest, and a body in motion will remain in motion unless it is acted upon by an external force.” I was told that if I stopped for too long, it would take a lot more will and energy to get me going again than if I had stayed in some form of motion. This turned out to be true. Here’s the thing …
- Pace yourself — It’s 12 hours. Moderate your energy to last. To do this, you’ll have to know yourself, your personality, your tendencies and your capacity. A rule I was offered was, “Take your normal walking or hiking time, and walk at 90% of that.” Do you tend to give it your all at the beginning? Remember, it’s 12 hours. And by the way …
- The flat, paved roads will be easier — The rocky terrain will tire you out. The rocky terrain will also teach you more. I should have perhaps chosen an easier, flatter route. But the truth is, I optimised for beauty. I wanted the raging sea, the plunging cliffs, the sparkling lights on an infinite plane. The rocky terrain took me there, and it was harder, much harder. I had to pay a lot more attention to each footfall, and at times, I had to descend a dune or cling to a cliff face, because the galeforce wind was too much for me. But my goodness was it worth it because …
- If you choose the bigger life, the views will be better — From a higher, harder place, you’ll gain more perspective. You’ll be able to look down and out and across, and experience yourself as strong, and oh so small, in the grander scheme of things. Though you are small, there will be help, for …
- You will meet more people in the beginning than you will in the end — There will be so many people on your path when you start out, and this will give you courage. You’ll feel part of the human race, and if you are walking or hiking in a place where others are also walking and hiking, you’ll look out for each other. Be kind to all you meet. They will be kind to you. In the end, as your walk winds down, there will be fewer and fewer on the path, but …
- Near the end, you’ll come to a place where you will love them all — As different and varied as they will be, all those you meet on your path that day, you will be grateful for them, each and every one, the variety in age and shape and sound. You will smile at young mothers carrying newborn children, wrapped close, on secluded paths; the sight of an older couple’s synchronised step and hands held, loosely, will burn itself into your brain. Speaking of your brain …
- The brain loves to thrash; let it, until it’s done — You will get to a place where and when it quietens. You will. It took my brain 5 hours to stop its incessant chatter: its multiple, simultaneous conversations about my current distance and time, my physical state, my “Everest”, my future, my plans, my pace, my past, my patterns, etc. etc. But it quietened, and in time, I settled into my body, nearly almost thoughtless, in flow. Which brought me to one of life’s most obvious lessons …
- Be present — It’s all we have; it’s all we ever have. There came a point where I was taken by a small, light-blue butterfly flitting about ahead of me. In that moment, it was just she and I in the world, together in time. In being present …
- Save a little energy for the end — There will be surprises; there always are. Despite 11.5 hours on the road, I was able to speed up at the end and make it home just after sunset, 15 minutes past my 12-hour mark. I had a reserve, and I was so happy I did. My surprises? Waves that lapped at my feet and wet my shoes (and I still had several hours to go), a path that was covered by a raging sea, meaning I had to double back, an unplanned-for hill at the end of my 12-hour walk. But I managed. Oh … and the big lesson?
- Humans are capable of more than we think, and old? Like so much, it’s in our heads. All those limiting beliefs we walk around with — we don’t have enough time or money or talent or love or good health or capacity (though some of that may be true) — are doing just that, limiting us. We are capable of so much more than we think. Don’t believe me? Try a 12-hour walk. You — and Life — might surprise you.
Oh, and one more thing.
A bonus lesson: The best comes on the other side, the next day; you will feel your reset’s full effect. Be prepared for euphoria, for ease of mind and body, for finding your North again.
With special thanks to Colin O’Brady for sharing the 12-hour Walk with the world.
