Feeling Good, Feeling Strong.

The sunrise that morning had been rather strong for the middle of January. I started the day with a meditative walk followed by a deeper mindfulness practice in the comfort of my room. Work went by smoothly until I got a text from Monika reading: ‘Ok, FYI, I’m organising the hike again :DDDD don’t tell anyone’. Within 30 minutes, I had called my boss to get time off work and started to book my flights. I knew this had to be it - the day I finally overcome Hike4Freedom. Although I had done no training whatsoever, I knew this time it would be different. The previous two attempts, each ending at around 80 kilometres had hardened my spirit. I knew it would be painful, and I was excited for it. For the first time, I had no foolish hopes or expectations of the walk going by smoothly. I had a burning image in my head of finally realising this accomplishment through the suffering of it all.

And so, the weeks rolled by rapidly, but I had managed to squeeze in two long-distance hikes in barefoot shoes – one from Edinburgh to North Berwick and the other through the seven hills of the Athens of the North. I made sure to stretch daily, hoping that would offer me some sort of relief during the adventure looming ahead. Before I realised it, Valentine’s Day rolls around and I am flying to meet Justinas in Kaunas. There was an uneasiness between us, a knowing of the painful journey we would be embarking on very shortly, and yet through it all we shared stories and relived memories, smiling not just with our mouths, but with our eyes.

The night before the hike neither one of us could get much sleep. When we finally managed to fall into the astral world, my alarm, which I had forgotten to turn off, rang at 4am. I was so dazed and confused that I could not register what was happening. Luckily Justinas had a little more awareness than me and turned it off so that we could finish our rest ahead of the journey. In the morning, we had the breakfast of champions – buckwheat with olive oil, got dressed in preparation for the cold night of the Baltic winter and started heading for Vilnius. I was walking in my Vibram barefoot toe shoes and was very eager to test out how long I’d be able to last in them. I decided to bring my Sketchers cushioned shoes, which were a gift from my family, in case I needed to fall back on more adequate gear. Looks like I can learn from my mistakes.

As we took our first morning steps in Kaunas, I realised something. The ground is, in fact, very cold during the winter, especially when wearing minimalist footwear. I asked Justinas if we could stop by a Decathlon so that I may get a second pair of toe socks to keep myself warm. And so, before I could even start the hike, the Decathlon curse had returned. Or rather, the Decathlon blessing, for it really was a miracle that I could go to a store to buy toe socks with 1hr to go before the official starting time of our mission. On the way to Vilnius railway station, we decided to hop on a bus. As we were closing in our destination, the engine broke down… not the worst of omens. Justinas and I looked at each other smiling and said ‘Well, I guess the hike has begun!’.

The first 20km were incredibly difficult for me. It was snowing continuously, and so my hope to keep my feet warm and dry had dissipated very quickly. Luckily with the two pairs of socks, one of them had become sort of like a wet suit, and the water within had warmed up with my own body heat, keeping my feet relatively comfortable. My head was banging from within and yet there was no part of me that could even conceptualise the idea of quitting. I’d just get on with it. Around kilometre 30, my mental sky started clearing up and Justinas reminded me of my first crack at the hike back in 2023 and how pained I was at this point in the journey. Now, two years later, I felt nothing but joy. I was pleasantly surprised to find that I was feeling stronger and livelier after 30km of walking, than when we had started the hike. I knew this had to be the one.

We kept passing the time by taking in the stunning views around Vilnius, and when we’d reached kilometre 45, we had been blessed by Jurgis and his cazan (big-ass pot of food). The atmosphere was filled with love and support. Warm food, herbal tea, joyous conversations and, crucially, a friendly dog. I took this opportunity to dry my feet and my shoes by the fire, hoping it would make the rest of the walk somewhat easier. Monika warned me that this would be the last opportunity to change into my cushioned shoes for the next 8-10 hours, as the support team would be going to sleep. After giving it some thought, I decided to bite the bullet and just get on with it in my trusty toe shoes.

The night got cold. The kind of cold that creeps into your soul and makes you wonder – why even do this? Why put yourself through this difficulty? For what? What could you possibly find at the end of the road that you did not already have? Although my demons were trying to lay traps in front of me, I had walked this path before, and I knew where each hole would be. I skilfully dodged the confines of my own mind and made it out the other side. We lost a few good souls to the night. Hikers who dropped out as the going got tougher and tougher in the cold and dark. Still, I knew that each step got me closer to my destination, and for as long as I could walk, damn it I would.

I will never forget the feeling of the first few droplets of the morning sun softly landing on my retina. The seemingly never-ending 13 hours of darkness had come to a halt as we reached km 73. We still had a third of the way to go, but the Sun brough life to us all. Praised be the Life Giver. The snow had started to warm up, so we decided to have a pit-stop by a beautiful lake where the brave Vilnelės Pankai were doing their morning dip.

The pit-stop ended up being a tad too long and so the early morning hours became unbearably cold. The rush of adrenaline and blood-flow had slowed down and the body entered a premature phase of rest. This was not great, so in an attempt to warm myself up, I started pacing around the lake, but my body was not being receptive. I’d just have to wait for the sun to reach greater heights. This too shall pass. As minutes were slowly rolling on by, the cold only seemed to get worse, and I could see that my hood had become frozen. Despite the lovely conversations I was having with the cold-water swimmers, I knew we’d have to leave soon, and I was grateful when our group finally decided to move on. In a last effort to warm ourselves up, Justinas and I decided to jog ahead, but nothing seemed to work. We’d just have to breathe through and hope our bodies will slowly take in the warm glow coming down from the Cosmos.

By this point the group was formed of just a handful of us – Monika, our leader, Vytautas and Mr. K, two seasoned hikers, Justinas, one of the original hike4freedom founding members from back in Hong Kong and myself. As we came upon a supermarket, the group wanted to stop again to purchase some supplies. Justinas and I were impatient. Impatient and frustrated. Too many breaks, too little walking. The weather is cold, our spirits are down, we wanted none of it. All we wanted to do was keep walking, get on with it and finish up. We didn’t care for food, chatter or breaks. In these trying times, Monika’s leadership really shone through, straightening us out with kind compassion. Simultaneously, Vytautas and Mr. K gently hinted towards our youthful impatience. So, we sighed. So, we breathed. As we finished up the shop, Jurgis came around again. This time with warm plov and buckwheat. A good treat before the last 30km of the hike.

I can’t quite remember specific happenings from the last 30 kilometres. What I do know is that the atmosphere was fantastic. New hikers had joined us for these last few hours of walking and so spirits were high. Justinas and I were passing the time by asking each other silly hypotheticals. There was a dog walking with us, who loved receiving sticks as gifts. Life was good. Around kilometre 90 the pain became unbearable, but for Christ’s sake I was 17km short of finishing, there was no way I’d drown on the shore. I couldn’t quite flex or rotate my feet, but they were sturdy enough to allow my legs to do the work, and so I’d kept on keeping on.

Perhaps the most memorable part was the last few steps. It was my strava that we were basing the hike on, and as we reached the Vilnius train station, we were a couple hundred meters short of 107km. My body must have been sensing the end of our journey, for it was ready to expel the byproduct of all I had eaten in the past 29 hours. And so, as we were pacing around the platform trying to bridge our distance gap, my main objective was, in all honesty, to not shit myself. Each step, a prayer. Each rumble in my stomach, a deepening of the breath. It was all part of my meditative practice.

I didn’t quite understand what we’d accomplished as the little distance counter showed 107km. All I knew was that I could finally run for the toilet in the train station as the other were celebrating. It’s still hard to put into words how monumental this achievement was. I’d spent three years trying to complete hike for freedom and I’d finally done it. Not only had I done it, but I was the first person to finish it in barefoot shoes. The sole was an 8mm sole, so now I have my sights on the next goal – 3mm, and perhaps one day, actually barefoot.

As for my reflections on what this journey has taught me:

1. You would never ask a tree to grow faster, and so must we be patient with ourselves. It takes time and active nurturing to reach our goals. This one took me three years, but…

2. It was never about reaching Vilnius train station. The culmination of the multiple attempts and hours of training across these three years in that one moment of success wasn’t what truly mattered, but, as the old cliché goes – it was the journey that did.

3. Anything you set out to do in life, it will be much easier to accomplish with the loving support of friends, family, and more often than we realise, strangers. Allow the world to nurture you on your journey. Be open to receiving the gifts so bountifully present around you.

4. People will try to discourage you from achieving the things that matter to you. This is not because they want to drag you down, but rather because they deeply love you. They want to make sure you are safe and comfortable, but for your soul to grow, you must actively strive beyond what you’ve already charted. A boat is safest on the shore, but that is not what it was built for.

I am looking forward to the next crazy text from Monika when I’ll have to drop my everyday life and join some strange adventure :).