Love at Spain's Iron Cross

38 - Choices

38

Choices

Saturday, June 19

After his date the night before, Jordan had only six hours of sleep, but he felt energized. He was on the trail at first light, following the yellow arrows as they guided him out of Salamanca and back onto the Via de la Plata. He thought of Grace and grinned.

I hope she's smiling as well. A gift to each other. I would have been content just sharing dinner. As long as I don't feel needy, I'm gonna be happy either way. That's the key. Feel content no matter what. People I hang out with should know that I enjoy their company, whatever they wish to give. I was so grateful for Grace's friendship. But dancing, talking, and connecting physically all added to our pleasure. I loved her smile, laugh, conversation, talent, fluidity, body, and passion. What a woman! Lived up to her name. The Irish guy she chooses for life is gonna win the top prize.

As the sun rose, he took off his outer layer and got into a rhythm. Jordan felt his heart beating easily. He pushed off with his poles at each footstrike. On level surfaces or slight uphills, the sticks and steps moved in unison. He took long strides and covered much ground. For the downhills, he changed, planting each pole early, so his arms had time to absorb some of his body's weight before the next step felt the rest of it.

This way, up to twenty-five percent of the mass is supported by my elbows and shoulders, which are healthier. My legs should last much longer that way.

He finished the first ten miles to Castellanos de Villiquera just after nine. He knew he could walk as fast as four miles per hour, so the speed felt right. But better, his knees were strong. Not even a hint of trouble. At a restaurant, he ordered his usual. Today he had two of everything. The Spanish tortillas and cafes con leche were delicious. He also drank plenty of water and was glad he needed a long restroom break. Never again would he drink so little.

As the day wore on, he slowed a little bit, but Jordan still felt strong enough to average more than three miles an hour. He reached his destination, El Cubo de la Tierra del Vino, before two. Over twenty-two miles total, no blisters, no knee trouble.

Thank you.

The rest of the day he took it easy. Wrote some in his journal, sent a brief email thanks to Grace, and then jotted down some ideas. Progress on all fronts. No desire for pain meds, some more book brainstorming, and tender thoughts of Oriana, as if his wife were smiling about his healing time with Grace MacGowan in Salamanca. He went to sleep early, to catch up on what he had missed the night before. He smiled as he drifted off, thinking of the hymn, "Amazing Grace".

Losing sleep because of such a charming Irish woman is something I'd gladly suffer more often.

Sunday, June 20

He had another long trek planned, but Jordan felt optimistic. It was around eight miles to the first town, so he took a little more time before departing, leaving around seven. He had his snack and plenty of water, just like yesterday. His legs felt a little sore, but not in a negative way. It was from using different muscles than when running in Salamanca. Jordan got to Villanueva de Campean just after nine, so restaurants were open.

Perfect. Get to repeat my usual line with the coffee and omelet about whether or not the second of each will be the same as or better than the first.

He smiled.

He was back on the Camino before 9:30. Twelve miles to go, water bottles filled, and bladder empty. Not many people on the Via de la Plata. This part of it paralleled a highway, with little to offer in the way of scenery, so Jordan's thoughts turned inward. The day's journey was a gradual net downhill descent, but never so steep that he had concern for his knees. He flew along the trail.