We left from home six days ago.
That’s six days of us trying to figure out what the hell we are doing. Like how did we come up with an idea this crazy? And this isn’t a bad attempt at a humble brag. We feel a knot form in our stomachs each time someone asks us where we’re heading. The answer seems so preposterous at this point. We feel small. Inadequate. Like posers.
And yes, we’ve done trips like this before. But those road are in the past, and this is in the future. This is where the idea of a journey meets with harsh reality. In reality the hills are steeper. The sun hotter. The roads more complicated to navigate. The jetlag worse and our legs punier.
In due time the anxiety will hopefully fade. Until then we just need to push on. Even when it hurts. And our goal seems so far away it is practically out of reach.
The good part is that we are not alone. So many people have already lent us a helping hand, said an encouraging word, helped us plan our route and given us a place to stay at. We might be small, but the hearts of those helping us are big.