The Long Night Walk to Zhuhai- A Tale of Two Blisters

We all met at Yellow Submarine, a sandwich shop owned by an American man and his wife. Sonya from China, Elena from Singapore, Agnes from Ireland, ‘Captain Handsome’ (a direct translation of his name), Raymen, (both Chinese) and I sipped coffee and munched sandwiches as we made introductions and game planned. The night walk was to start at 7:30 pm so we hustled across the street to find our starting position outside the stadium. There was a huge stage with hundreds of people gathered, ready to walk. Just before 9 pm, we finally started walking. The energy was fantastic. Everyone was excited to be

moving. We were a lively sea of people rushing through the city.
Not long after we started, we were along the highway, spread thin. On one curve I could see the exodus spread half of a mile ahead of and behind me. After an hour and a half we reached the first checkpoint. Our team scanned our time cards, sipped water and kept on. We had walked 8 kilometers. Around midnight we lost track of each other. I carried on with Sonya and Agnes, walking quickly and sometimes running to pass roadblocks…swarms of people walking in tight groups. After midnight I hit our third checkpoint alone. I had gone ahead of the group, following the pace of a few nice Chinese men who were using me to practice their English. When I hit the checkpoint, I was tired but I didn’t want to stop to wait for the crew. I was in ‘go’ mode, sweaty, and

not wanting to cool down. Around 2 am I reached the 30km checkpoint where they had food for the walkers. In America, these energy tents offer Powerbars, gel packs, and Gatorade. But this is China. As I walked through the crowd, I was offered rice porridge, eggs boiled in tea, and meat and rice wrapped in lotus leaves. I respectfully declined and dug in my bag for a Snickers bar. I left the station just as it began to rain. A young Chinese man walked along side me for over an hour. We didn’t say a word to each other, but it was nice to have someone to pace with. My new best friend and I split up at the next station, and I started to lose steam. The 25 pounds in my backpack was starting to feel more like 50 pounds. By this point everyone was spread out, but every few minutes I would pass a group who would gasp, then chatter in Chinese about the foreigner with the huge pack. My phone was dead, severing my communication with my teammates. I was led through a small city, which transitioned into highway, which transitioned into a country back road. I was pleasantly reminded of the country roads in Texas- paved rural paths lined with trees, winding from one small town to the next. About every 300 meters there was a help station- a small group of volunteers bundled in jackets, blankets, and umbrellas with a generator powering a light shining the way. Their encouragement was amazing. 加油 (Jiayo!! Jiayo!), they would say. (Come on! Fight on! literally meaning to put gas in the tank) The rain started to come down heavily and steadily. I walked alone. After the 40 km checkpoint, I stopped for rest. I didn’t know if I could continue. My knees throbbed. My feet complained loudly each time I lifted them from the concrete. There were blisters forming on the bottoms of my feet, and I could feel the tendons and muscles in my hips and legs tightening up like twisted rubber bands. I made a mental note to do more yoga. It was 4 in the morning and I had already walked more than a marathon. To say I was tired is an understatement. I searched my soul for motivation…inspiration….any ‘ation’  I could find.
‘Why the fuck am I doing this?’ was the question. I was having trouble locating the answer. My knees were aching so much that I feared my ACL might snap from the pressure of my 1000-pound pack. When I thought I might give in, I hit the 49 km checkpoint. There, I rested, ate another Snickers bar, had some tea, and left with a bit more juice in my tank. I had six kilometers to go. I did anything to distract myself from the pain. I sang Bob Marley songs, calculated what percent of the walk I had finished with each step, and tried to recall the details of interesting psychology articles I read in college. I was on the outer edge of Zhuhai, walking along the beautiful bay. The sky was beginning to light up as a sliver of the sun peeked over the horizon. With 2km to go, I hit a wall. I stopped, unsure that I could take another step.

‘Just keep moving forward.’ I thought. ‘If you keep moving forward, you’ll finish sometime.’ 

Just keep moving forward.

A man wearing sandals passed me. Thankfully, I didn’t have the energy to murder him. I hated everyone and everything. I wanted to quit. I wanted to die. Just then, the heavens opened up and sent an angel down to me in the form of Captain Handsome. He came from nowhere. I didn’t realize it was The Captain at first. I was actually a bit annoyed at the man speaking to me in Chinese, asking me how I was, and if I was hungry. He gave me an external battery to charge my phone. I was reconnected with the rest of the team and their encouragement.

Just keep moving forward.

Then came the game changer. Out of his magic Mary Poppins backpack, The Captain pulled a bag of bread. He offered me one of the lightly browned , french toast-like squares. I took one bite and decided it was the best bite of food I have ever put in my mouth in my whole life. The bread was manna from heaven, made from grain ground by God himself and sweetened with honey from the promise land. I inhaled one piece, then another. With that tasty snack, I had the

energy to keep on. But even with the refreshment of my snack, I thought the last kilometer would never end. I kept looking for the finish line that didn’t appear. I couldn’t distract myself from the pain anymore. It came in full force. I limped along, trying to keep up with Captain Handsome. One tear rolled down my cheek. I held back more tears because I figured my body needed to keep the electrolytes. When we finally finished, I dropped my pack, documented the moment, and collapsed. I traded my hiking boots for moccasins, and limped to the car where The Captain’s friends were waiting. The next few days were filled with rest, mass amounts of fluids, and two of the most painful massages I’ve ever had. 
Contrary to everything I just said, this was a great experience. My favorite part was walking on the back roads of China with only the sound of my footsteps, my breath, and my beating heart. I also made new friends and strengthened existing relationships with my teammates. Many good things came from the experience of the walk to Zhuhai. I can honestly say it was well worth the pain….almost.