Travelling at Walking Pace
By late afternoon, I had already walked for nearly 9 hours. Waves crashed against rugged cliffs, distant voices drifted from fishing villages a little inland, and the Atlantic Ocean extended endlessly to my right. Each new stretch of coastline blended seamlessly into the last. Of course, the physical endurance alongside the sun relentlessly beating down on me since dawn was harsh enough, but there was nothing to compare with the mental game I forced myself to compete in. The physical exhaustion...