Hike 105km? You’re crazy.

T-Minus 1 Week

Why?

If I’m honest I simply did not want to do this hike until a week before it. I didn’t think I could do it. It seemed just a bit crazy. I also have knee problems. No way. The only reason I was doing it was because I just happened to find myself as part of a group of friends who were keen to walk 105km and I couldn’t say no and be that one person. But, like I said, this changed a week before.

I had a moment with myself while visiting a family friend and was trying to grasp why in hell I would want to do this crazy silly thing. What is my why? What is my reason? Peer pressure alone would not suffice at kilometre fifty when your blisters have formed, popped, reformed and popped again. Maybe I was doing it for mental and physical resilience, to see what my body is capable of, to see how my mind would react to this kind of stress, a little science experiment of sorts. Or maybe I wanted to celebrate Lithuanian independence or walk around the forests. These for sure were relevant but what I quickly realised, feeling existential, was that I truly had no reason other than experience itself. I was simply walking 105km because it’s so outside my comfort zone and life is short—an undiscovered unchartered adventure.

This gave me a sense of freedom; my goal suddenly wasn’t to walk 105km but to simply walk and see what happens. I felt excited to spend the day immersed in this new experience with twelve incredible people also willing to challenge themselves.

T-Minus 1 Day

Don’t be silly.

My advice to you would be to train. Don’t be silly. The body can’t go from your simple 5k runs to a 105km non-stop walk. Going into this, I only did one long 40km walk on top of gym and yoga, which placed my physical in an unideal place. I knew this so I tried to pamper myself as much as possible: it’s all about the mind games you play with yourself to keep yourself going. First, your food game has to be strong for both your body and mind. For me, this involved a kinder egg for the lowest of lows, a lot of electrolytes, caffeine, and so many snacks. Second, and crucially, my first aid kit was decked out—get zinc oxide tape, you’re welcome. Again, don’t be silly. I also stayed away from anything that would prevent my body from performing at its full capacity so no smoking and drinking. I felt both excited and apprehensive. How far could my body and mind take me?

LIFTOFF

105km walk? Just an average day.

I remember knowing with certainty that this day ahead would be a core memory in my life.

Waking up, I felt energised and ready—a privilege amongst the group after a night in a hostel room full of snoring. Breakfast was…funny. I mean it was half four in the morning in a foreign country and twelve of us were attempting to walk 105km in 24 hours. Casual things. Before I knew it, we took our start of walk picture and set off just like that. Again, casual things, don’t mind us.

Here’s how it went. The day was essentially a constant ever-evolving mental cycle of pain followed by drive and determination followed by euphoria followed by pain and so on. Pain->determination->euphoria->pain. Honestly, my knee was hurting from the very first step. The first pain moment was fine, the second was whatever but by hour 15, the pain moments became not walls but literal tanks ploughing you down. The voice in your head telling you to stop walking and go home to your cosy warm bed is so sweet and gentle, so enticing and charismatic. The only way to keep going is by going consciously mad. I mean you are mad. Why else would you succumb your body to this? My motto was to fake it till you make it. I kept my pain to myself and instead just spent the day cracking jokes and being silly. What pain? I don’t know her.

This made most of the day an incredible time bonding with the group. I consciously took turns walking with everyone, feeling as if I was connecting deeply with each person as the kilometres added up. We all encouraged each other, pushed each other, and became close through our shared pain and fight to keep walking. Seeing two of the group members in particular go from the brink of collapse and giving up to a newfound inner fire was an insane experience to witness. The first, Danny, had said that he would be done at kilometre forty. At kilometre fifty-five, this man overtook me, running, roaring, chanting, English flag on his back and staff in his hand. The sheer determination and insanity in his eyes were nothing I’d witnessed before. He had to dig to the deepest depths to find this. The second, Vlad, walked to kilometre forty in barefoot shoes, each pebble and stick stabbing and stabbing and stabbing into his feet to the point where every step he was holding back tears. He was surely going to be the first one to stop. Luckily, Justinas’ dad who was on safety car duty, literally gave him his own shoes. Vlad walked ten kilometres more than me that day. It feels incredible to have witnessed such deeply personal journeys through pain and resilience.

However, you can only fake it till you make it for so long. By hour 15 it’s a bit harder to shove things down and live in blissful ignorance. At this point, I began a practice of radical acceptance. I aligned my steps with my breathing and entered a deep meditative practice. I walked ahead and kept mainly to myself, taking an honest look at my thoughts. I could feel the drive within me, within my soul. I would keep going no matter what. I was hungry to keep going. I dared my mind to keep challenging me. I dared the hike to get harder. I was unleashed. When the walls of sheer lack of energy hit, I noticed them and dived deep. I felt unafraid simply because I knew that I had the choice to stop if I wanted to. I could take this experience to wherever I wanted to. So I can only describe these moments as ones that deeply connected me with myself. I knew that with this kind of cultivated strength and resilience, I truly had my own back in handling life’s ups and downs. I’ve got this.

However, at kilometre 68 I was so sure I would make it. At kilometre 70 I stopped my hike. What a sudden change of plans. The pain games were all fun and games… until I had to take a long hard look at myself. How much damage was I willing to do to my body? The pain had been excruciating for hours, that was whatever. I had bossed this pain. I could keep going through this pain. The massive red flag came when the group started to jog for a little stretch. At this point, my knee pain had travelled up to my hips. Every step in that jog I felt a shift in the pain I was experiencing. It felt like my hip would tear. This felt more than just pain that would take a week or two to recover. This felt serious. This felt like damage.

I stopped and let the group walk ahead to our dinner stop. I cried. Every part of me wanted to keep going but my body had made itself known. I knew my day was over. After this, I tried walking another kilometre to double and triple-check that my pain games were indeed over. Although part of me wishes I had kept going and tried harder, I know within myself that I made a good decision to stop when I did. The truth is my body had not been prepared enough for this. I didn’t lack the strength; I lacked the endurance. The ultimate act of self-compassion was acknowledging and accepting this.

Getting back to the accommodation I felt a deep sense of euphoria and pride I had not experienced before. I felt proud of myself for making it so far, but most of all I felt proud for the group. As we relaxed at base camp, more and more members called it a day and we sat reflecting, relaxing, and limping. Three out of twelve made it to the end, finishing earlier than expected. This is an insane feat of resilience!

BEYOND 105

Strong back, soft heart

Looking back, I can feel within myself how much stronger I am from this experience. Since then, life has thrown its own stresses into the mix, and I feel that I dive into them with more of a balance of compassion and resilience. Strong back, soft heart. This duality is one I consciously cultivated and solidified on this hike. I pushed myself and my body: strong back. But when the signs came, I didn’t ignore them: soft heart.

I’d like to thank Monika and Justinas for putting in so much time and effort to organise such a large group of people, all coming from different countries for this hike. Without them, this experience simply would not have existed. I can do nothing but highly recommend it, even dare you to do it. Just do it and see what happens for what have you to lose.