I have been doing a lot of walking. More walking than I’ve ever done in my life. More walking than I thought possible.

We wake up; we start walking. We go to bed; I’m walking in my dreams. My feet are so used to endless stepping that my feet subconsciously move while I use the bathroom.

But we have to walk. Got to keep training. Got to be prepared. In a few weeks we will be in Spain. And then it will all be real. We will be walking the Camino de Santiago every day. Walking will be our full-time job.

You can learn a lot about yourself by walking. I don’t know how this is possible. But walking does something to you. To your soul. You hear a voice when you walk. A still, small voice you would have never heard otherwise. A wise and ancient voice that speaks directly to your heart.

The voice keeps telling you, “You are insane.”

And we are insane. Namely, because we’re carrying heavy backpacks as we walk. The packs are not all that heavy in regular life. In fact, they’re pretty light. They’re just normal backpacks. No big deal. But after several miles uphill, your backpack becomes a mid-sized Nissan from hell.

This is why you are constantly thinking about ways to reduce your pack weight. But you can’t, of course. Everything inside is a necessity. You’ve already reduced your belongings to a few pounds.

Your shampoo is a tiny bar of special camping soap. Your toothbrush has the handle cut off to save .0004 ounces. You carry only enough toilet paper to accommodate the needs of a small hamster.

Funny thing is, when people find out you’re walking the Camino, they offer friendly advice. Everyone has a useful tidbit. You quickly learn that everybody on planet earth must’ve known about the Camino except you.

You soon discover that many people in your friend circle have already walked the trail. Dozens of them.

Which surprises you. How did you not know this about your friends? Maybe you just tuned these people out all these years? Maybe you weren’t ready to listen. Maybe you were a self-absorbed little turd?

Then, at some point it hits you: You probably know more people who have walked parts of the Camino than people who have visited Yellowstone National Park. You even poll your friends for proof. How is this even possible?

But the answer is already staring you in the face. Other trails don’t “call” people. The Camino speaks to you, yelling from across the sea. Using a voice in your head and heart. The voice says, “Leave your house, put down your phone, leave your life behind for a while.”

“How do I do that?” you reply.

“Just start walking.”

“Walk? Why should I walk?”

“Because,” the voice replies, “you truly are a self-absorbed little turd.”

“But what am I looking for on my walk?”

“You’ll know it when you find Me,” the voice answers.

You really can learn a lot just by walking.