The hike that broke me a little and fixed me a little

In March, I was deep in the misery that is job hunting.
I had been trying to move abroad for a while by then, and I was just… done. Frustrated, burnt out, and tired of the soul-sucking loop of applications, interviews, and rejections.

By February, I had actually realised what I was doing wrong. I knew my portfolio and deck needed work. But I had almost no will left to fix anything. I was just tired.

I had been working nonstop since the start of college. Countless weekends, through a pandemic. I never really complained about it. I willingly did it. I can be a bit of a workaholic, and I love my work.

But after so many years of going without a real break, I had forgotten what it even means to rest. I did not know what I would do if I stopped working. The idea of “taking a break” felt scarier than my exhausting routine.

One day, when I was especially frustrated, I opened GPT and just dumped every idea I had for my break. I was reading Wild (Cheryl Strayed hiking the PCT) at the time, and the idea of a hike sounded very interesting. It felt like the kind of change I needed. Also, yes, it gave a bit of main character energy lol.

There was one problem, though: I had never hiked.
Not even a one-day hike. And now I was planning a multi-day hike in a completely different country.

Realistically, I knew I could maybe do a maximum of two weeks. I knew I could not camp. I was too much of a beginner for that. I had enough self-awareness to know this plan was slightly crazy.

With GPT’s help, I narrowed it down to two options: Rota Vicentina in Portugal and Michinoku in Japan.

Rota Vicentina (220km) seemed more realistic. The perfectionist in me also liked that I could finish the entire hike, unlike Michinoku (1000km+). GPT kind of gaslit me into believing it was an “easy” hike. Spoiler: it was not.

I quit my job in early September. Around the same time, my mental health was the worst it had ever been. Somehow, I still made it to Porto Covo in late September, a tiny fishing village in Portugal, and the starting point of my hike.

Here is what that trip, probably the best experience of my life so far, taught me.

I’m so much stronger than I think

I completely underestimated how tough it would be to hike with a heavy backpack, steep ascents and descents, and long stretches of sand.

The first day of my hike was one of the hardest. There were no real breaks or stops until I reached Vila Nova de Milfontes. I did not plan my water well and ran out halfway (rookie mistake). By the time I finished day one, I was fully ready to quit.

My shoulders were swollen. They hurt every time I lifted my backpack. The only good news was that I did not have blisters yet.

But I did not have much choice. I had already booked all my stays until the end of the hike. So I had to get up every morning and do it again.

Slowly, it got easier.
By day 5 or 6, I was comfortably hiking the entire stage for the day. Nothing really hurt. I was just walking, watching cliffs and ocean and sky, and vibing.

The biggest realisation was this: I had never actually pushed myself hard enough to see what I was capable of. This hike forced me to do that. Now I know my limit is much further out than I assumed. That thought has stayed with me in other parts of my life too.

We are way too connected

One of the best decisions I made before the hike was turning off notifications and deleting all my social media apps.

I used my phone for two or three hours a day at most, mainly for navigation. My mind felt quiet in a way it had not felt in years. I was no longer constantly plugged into news, updates, and everyone’s lives. It made me less anxious and less bothered about trivial things.

My only real worry was a forest fire that had started in one part of the trail. Real problems only.

I missed my friends, but in a different way. I wanted to actually talk to them, not just exchange memes and reels (even though that is also very important). I felt more present in my own life.

I also found it easier to connect with other hikers. There is something about walking beside someone for hours that pulls honest conversations out of you. We spoke about things we had not told many people, knowing we would probably never see each other again.

Low screen time does wonders for your mind.

I have too many things

Living out of a backpack for a month teaches you, very quickly, how little you actually need.

Do not get me wrong, I love my shelves of books and I can be a bit of a hoarder. But hiking did put a lot of things in perspective. I realised I probably do not need as many things as I own.

Since I got back, I have slowly been Marie Kondo-ing my stuff. It is not easy. Letting go of things rarely is. But I am more conscious now of what I keep and why.

Did I change completely? No. Did it help? Kinda.

Did I incorporate every single thing I learnt while hiking into my daily life? Absolutely not.
I still get overwhelmed. I still spend too much time on my phone. I still overthink.

But the hike did give me a few small, honest shifts.
I know now that my body can handle more than my mind thinks it can.
I know how good it feels when my brain is not buzzing all the time.
I know I do not need as many things as I once thought I did.

None of this looks dramatic from the outside, but it feels like a quiet turning point to me.
When I think about that month now, it does not feel like an escape. It feels like a version of myself I got to meet for the first time.

Someone who can walk a little further than they believe.
Someone who is okay with being a little more offline.
Someone who knows they can carry less and still feel full.

I did not come back with a brand-new life. I came back with a slightly different centre.
And on most days, that is enough.

The trail is far away now, but every so often, in the middle of a noisy day, I remember the sound of my own footsteps on sand, the wind, and the simple relief of reaching the next town.
It is a small reminder that I can choose that kind of stillness again, whenever I am brave enough to step away.