When people dream about walking the Camino de Santiago, they imagine a spiritual journey filled with beautiful scenery, personal reflection, and profound moments of enlightenment.
What they don’t imagine is slathering themselves with Voltaren cream multiple times a day while carefully rationing Advil and wondering if trekking poles can double as crutches.
Welcome to my Camino.
Our first day on the trail was absolutely magical.
We set out on a misty, foggy morning that looked like something straight out of a fairy tale. Moss-covered stone walls lined the path. Ferns seemed to spring up from every corner. Massive trees arched overhead, creating a canopy that made us feel as though we had wandered into an enchanted forest.
For mile after mile, I found myself stopping to admire the scenery. The beauty of Galicia is difficult to describe. It is lush, green, peaceful, and unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.
The first nine miles were mostly uphill. I felt strong and optimistic.
Then came the downhill.
Apparently, my IT bands had held a secret meeting and unanimously voted to stage a full-scale rebellion.
On Day One.
The outside of both knees began protesting loudly. Every downhill step felt like they were filing formal complaints with management.
By late afternoon, Julie and I arrived in the beautiful town of Portomarín, perched above the Miño River. We checked into our hotel and enjoyed a beverage on the patio while taking in the view.
The hotel itself?
Well, let’s just say our hotel manager appeared to have put on her cranky pants that morning and forgotten where she left her smile. Dinner wasn’t much better. It was one of those meals where every bite tastes exactly like the previous bite. Bland. Flavorless. Forgettable.
Fortunately, the Camino has a way of balancing things out.
Day Two began with more than fifteen miles on the schedule.
By this point, my IT bands had become swollen and inflamed. The good news? My bulging discs and sciatica had apparently decided to take a vacation.
After months of battling severe back pain, dry needling, physical therapy, steroid injections, and foot drop, I found myself in the bizarre position of being grateful that my back no longer hurt while being completely consumed by knee pain.
I was surviving on a carefully balanced cocktail of Voltaren cream, Advil, and the occasional pain pill.
Not exactly the Camino wellness program I had envisioned.
We somehow managed 10.57 miles before I finally waved the white flag.
As it turns out, that was a very wise decision because the remaining five miles were mostly downhill. And when your IT bands are inflamed, downhill isn’t merely difficult—it’s downright cruel.
Sometimes wisdom comes disguised as quitting early.
Our reward was arriving at one of the most delightful places we’ve stayed.
Our hotel in Palas de Rei was amazing.
Our host, Nion, originally from India, greeted us with warmth and kindness that immediately made us feel at home. The hotel featured a Moroccan theme and was filled with fascinating artifacts collected from around the world.
After settling into our beautiful rooms, Julie and I enjoyed a beverage on the terrace while Nion appeared carrying ice bags for my knees like some sort of Camino guardian angel.
Then he handed us dinner menus.
Then he cooked dinner.
Then he served dinner.
The next morning he cooked breakfast and personally saw us off on our way.
If hospitality were an Olympic sport, Nion would be standing on the podium collecting gold.
Day Three took us from Palas de Rei to Melide, a distance of just over ten miles.
The first five miles were mostly downhill.
At this point, I would like to officially nominate whoever designed this section of the Camino for a lengthy discussion with my IT bands.
Once again, the day involved generous applications of Voltaren cream, Advil, and pain medication.
I was moving at roughly the speed of continental drift.
A snail passed me and asked if everything was okay.
The frustrating thing is that once the trail flattened out or started climbing, I could settle into something resembling a normal walking gait. But those downhill sections were brutal.
It’s difficult to fully appreciate the beauty of the Camino when every step feels like your knees are conducting a hostile takeover.
And yet, somehow, the beauty still finds a way in.
The ancient forests.
The stone villages.
The friendly pilgrims from around the world.
The quiet moments along the trail.
The encouraging “Buen Camino” exchanged dozens of times each day.
Eventually, we arrived in Melide and discovered yet another wonderful place to stay.
Julie and I are staying in a separate house across the street from the main hotel, giving us the entire second floor to ourselves. The property even has a swimming pool.
That afternoon, we celebrated our arrival with what has become a perfectly balanced pilgrim meal: a protein bar and a poolside beverage.
Health and wellness, Camino style.
Later that evening, we enjoyed a wonderful veal dinner and reflected on the journey so far.
The best decision we made before leaving home was scheduling a rest day after these first three days of walking.
Today is that day.
There will be no hiking.
There will be ice.
There will be laundry.
There will be stretching.
There may even be a nap worthy of Olympic competition.
The Camino has already taught me an important lesson: sometimes the pilgrimage isn’t about conquering the trail. Sometimes it’s about adapting to whatever challenges the trail throws at you and finding joy anyway.
So here we are.
Forty miles completed.
Knees angry.
IT bands staging a full-scale rebellion.
The medicine pouch getting more use than the guidebook.
And yet, despite the pain, I wouldn’t trade this experience for anything.
The people we’ve met have been wonderful. The scenery has been breathtaking. Every village has its own personality, and every day brings a new adventure.
Tomorrow we’ll lace up our boots once again and continue toward Santiago.
One beautiful, painful, unforgettable step at a time.
Debby’s Fitness Journey 
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