When I told my friend’s mother, who had done the Camino de Santiago many times before, that I was going to do it last year, she told me: “The Camino begins the moment you decide to do it.” That stuck with me, and I think it also applies to hiking and other types of long-distance or endurance projects and trips. Our hikes begin long before we reach the trailhead. And this process can end up being an experience in itself, with its own life-changing aspects.
Learning from failure
Before traveling to Everest Base Camp in 2024, I trained, researched and prepared. But that was my first 14-day high-altitude hike, and I had never hiked for more than five days in a row. So, yes, I was prepared, but honestly, I wasn’t completely in my best shape. (Will we ever?) So when altitude sickness caught me at over 16,000 feet, I had to make one of the hardest decisions of my life: abandon part of my original plan and not go to Gokyo Lakes and climb Gokyo Ri. I decided to start descending because I was feeling too weak and miserable and no longer having fun. I know we can’t totally control the effects of altitude, but something inside me still thinks that maybe if I had been a little bit in better shape, I could have pulled through. Well, I guess we’ll never know. But after that, I promised myself that I would always, given the possibilities of course, do everything I could to prepare myself physically and mentally for my next big hike.
And so I did.
It took me a lot to get to the highest mountain in the world.
We have no agency over nature and the universe. Anything can happen, anything can go wrong. And that’s part of life. But I can still do my part: study, learn, organize, research, prepare and train. Really train. I know some people prefer to improvise, and that’s totally fine. But that’s not at all how I roll. I do believe in leaving room for the unexpected, for adjustments, and for letting things flow. But I also believe in the power of knowledge and information. It can save you from many difficulties.
The addictive feeling of possibility.
In 2025, when I climbed Mount Roraima (Google it or read my previous text in case you haven’t heard of it), carrying a very heavy backpack on my back, crossed under a waterfall while climbing the mountain wall, and went up and down for eight days with basically no aches or pains, I knew I was becoming addicted to the feeling of possibility. Of being able to do great things with my body, although I grew up hating physical education classes and any type of sport.
Feeling great at the top of Mount Roraima
I’m not an athlete, I never have been. I grew up close to the outdoors but always lying down with a book. Don’t run too much, don’t take too many risks. I was immersed in the adventures of my books, daydreaming. Although I was a curious child. So I read about explorers, adventurers, sailors and mountain climbers, longing but never believing I could achieve anything remotely close.
All that work really pays off.
But still, when deciding to tackle a big project like the Colorado Trail, the 560-mile French Way, or the Everest Base Camp Trek, I didn’t just read about it. My planning and preparation ended up seeping into my personal life, and even became my personal life in some ways:
• I need money, so I need to keep doing good work;
• I need a good night’s sleep to feel good the next morning during long training sessions, so I go to bed earlier;
• I stopped drinking so I wouldn’t have a hangover;
• I’m starting to see a nutritionist to find out how to get the right fuel to walk long distances;
• I get up early so I can train;
Etc…
Because of that, I start to see some pretty interesting consequences: I start to lose some weight (or gain some muscle) and feel better about my body, I start saving money because I cook my own food and don’t go out too much, and I don’t spend money on alcohol either. I feel more energetic and healthier. I have the great feeling of always learning something new thanks to all the books, articles, videos and podcasts. I’m busier, so I consciously choose how and who I spend my time with. I end up becoming a more intentional friend. I totally enjoy the feeling of being organized and working towards a big goal and dream.
Lazy? Don’t believe it! (Not anymore…)
Over the past few years, I’ve realized that I’m not as lazy as I always thought I was. I guess I just didn’t know that I could, maybe, if I tried, have what it took to, I don’t know, let’s say… cross the entire state of Colorado (remember, I’m in Brazil) over the Rocky Mountains for almost 500 miles carrying everything I need to survive there. Unfortunately, I didn’t grow up with much athletic encouragement. But at least now I’ve discovered all the wonderful things my body can do and the beautiful places it can take me if we both work hard enough.
Simple curiosity has made many things possible for me. And just by adding a little focus, discipline, willingness to keep going and drive, a whole new world opens up. Of course, sometimes we won’t feel like training, sometimes we won’t feel like doing anything anymore. And that’s fine. Do you need to take a day off? No problem! It is essential to slow down and rest. But keep going. The journey is full of ups and downs, but you have to keep going.
Doing our thing
I’m sure many of you can relate to what I’m talking about. Most of you may have walked many more miles and accomplished much more. I guess what I’m trying to say here is that we don’t need to be great athletes or some kind of special person to be able to achieve great things. What do you consider a great thing, anyway? I don’t want to be fast, much less the fastest. I don’t want to break a record. I just want to move forward and have a great journey, reach my limits, maybe surpass them, challenge my body and achieve fantastic things, in my simple personal opinion.
I remember the moment I decided I was going to hike the Colorado Trail. It was November of last year. Since then, in a way, I have already started my journey. So much learning and growth, so many feelings, so many beautiful connections. I feel much lighter in my soul and much stronger both physically and emotionally because of this whole process of managing a project that is really just me trying to make another dream come true.
Right now, as I write this text, a little over a month away from officially starting the trail, I deeply believe that I will make it and become a hiker, which makes the 12-year-old version of me feel really surprised and proud. I’m doing my part and I feel great about it. However, I am also aware in my heart that even if things don’t go as planned, even if I can’t finish it for some reason, it will all be worth it. The pre-trip journey has already improved me in countless ways and taught me not to give up and to continue living a life that leads me towards my dreams. One step at a time.
