I Didn’t Know I Needed This
On recovery, ambition, and discovering a different kind of pace
A few days ago, my cousin sent me a link.
It was a video of a woman who goes on long walks through the south of France. These walks are through countryside and hillside trails, passing small farms and fields, seeing sheep along the way. Staying in inns, eating French food every night, then getting up the next morning and walking again.
Something in me lit up while watching this 1 minute video clip. My immediate reaction was hell yeah! This is going on my bucket list!
I messaged my cousin “I need more details. I would totally do this.” To which she replied “I thought you’d be interested. It’s right up your alley!”
I noticed in the caption of the video that I could get her guide so I signed up for that. Within seconds I received her beautifully detailed guide in my email. She had laid out a detailed daily itinerary and miles needed each day. The shortest day was 8 miles and the longest day was 20 miles. This was a 150 mile hike over a 12 day period. The more I read the more excited I got.
I mean you’re walking through France! From inn to inn, across the country, through working farms, legally. Places I’ve never been before. It sounded idyllic.
I devoured that guide and what I discovered was it wasn’t just one long walk, but two. Without even reading the details of the second long walk, I knew I had to do both. No hesitation. No debate. Just certainty.
Different landscape, same idea. Long days on foot, moving through countryside and small towns, staying in inns along the way. But in England!
Which, in hindsight, says something about how my brain works more than it says anything about the actual trip.
Right now I’m recovering from hip arthroscopy surgery. I’ve been non-weight bearing for the last month. I’m just now putting 30 pounds of weight on that leg. I move through my house on crutches. I have to learn to walk again.
And yet this idea didn’t land as something far away from my life.
It landed as something I could already feel myself doing.
My goals are always very defined.
Years of lifting. Years of building and cutting. Training cycles. Discipline. Structure. Yoga woven into everything I teach and practice. I used to compete in bodybuilding, and I’ve already made the decision I won’t be doing that again.
I will keep lifting but not to compete. Not to chase a stage. Just because I love it. The process. The strength. The simplicity of it.
But something has shifted in how ambition feels. It’s not just about performance anymore. It’s about aliveness. And for some reason, walking for days through France or England feels more alive than I expected it to.
Not because it’s extreme. Because it isn’t. Ok maybe it’s a bit extreme, it is a 150 mile walk after all.
It just feels slow. Repetitive in the best way. Days measured in distance instead of urgency. Walking through fields and small towns that don’t ask you to be anything other than someone passing through them.
I think that’s what resonated.
Because the last 17 months have been teaching me something I didn’t fully understand until now: what it feels like when life forces you to slow down.
When everything takes longer than you want it to. You either fight it or you adjust. I’ve been adjusting.
The idea of going on a long walk feels exciting. Permission to move at a human pace for a long stretch of time.
Maybe that’s why it affected me more than I expected.
Lately so much of my focus has been on getting back to where I was. Back to lifting. Back to yoga. Back to moving without pain. Back to the version of myself that existed before the injury.
But sitting there reading that guide, I realized something.
For the first time in a long time, I wasn’t thinking about getting back.
I was thinking about something new.
Maybe this season has also been trying to teach me not every goal has to be about performance. Not every ambition has to be measured by a finish line, a trophy, a stage, or a personal record.
Some goals are simply experiences you want to have.
And right now, walking 150 miles through the countryside of France and England feels like exactly that.
A year ago, if you had asked me what was on my bucket list, I probably would have given you a very different answer.
Today?
It’s walking through small villages, passing sheep in open fields, staying in little inns, and seeing where the trail leads.
Funny how quickly a new dream can find you.
If you’re enjoying these reflections on recovery, ambition, and nervous system regulation, I’d love to have you along for the journey.