The Camino is calling and I must go...

March 7, 2024 started out like any other day. I was at a work conference. Our annual Specialty Care/Rare Disease meeting where cross functional partners from all over come together to collaborate, learn, inspire/be inspired/get inspired, brainstorm, and more. That morning we had an early call, following the awards dinner the previous night (big congrats to Jane and Rod!). I sat down next to my colleague Brian, and wondered who would be presenting that morning as the agenda for the time slot was intentionally vague. Soon two gentlemen came to the stage, I didn't recognize either as colleagues, one was in a wheelchair, the other walked out unassisted. A video began to play and as I watched tears welled up in my eyes. Someone, I believe it was Brian, handed me a tissue. Justin and Patrick's video and subsequent talk truly touched me. A synopsis from their website: "I'll Push You is a story of friendship and love, a story of hope and sacrifice, a story that explores the raw, deep human condition and the connections we all long for. The Camino de Santiago serves as a backdrop to the lives of Justin Skeesuck and Patrick Gray. I'll Push You provides insight into what it means to live for one another, what it means to overcome limitations, and what it means to push one another toward who we each long to be.

At first glance, this story appears to be an adventure tackling a physical challenge in order to fulfill the dream of a man who lives life from a wheelchair. The reality of I'll Push You is there are many ways we can push one another. Justin's perspective on life and the way in which he lives it pushes Patrick beyond his fears and doubts. Join us as we discover what it means to let go of safety and what it means to rest completely in faith."

Later that day I ran into Justin and Patrick in the lobby and I asked if I could take a picture with them. Still later, as I walked into the Carousel Bar in the French Quarter with my colleagues, I saw Justin, Patrick, Kristen and Donna (their respective wives) in a lively conversation with another group of colleagues who invited us over for a photo. After the photo I began speaking with Donna who I instantly felt a connection with. She was warm and kind. I whispered, "if you guys are wanting a quiet dinner, I am happy to discreetly mention it to folks so you can enjoy your evening without distractions". Donna explained that the evenings when they travel for speaking engagements were very special because they get to meet the people they spoke to and hear THEIR stories, which in turned energized and inspired THEM. Wow. I sat there listening and learning and wishing the night wouldn't end.

I was so moved by Justin and Patrick's story. They shared that they do trips to help other people with disabilities complete the last 100km of the Camino de Santiago each year, it's called Accessible Camino. Nursing a long-term knee injury and a yet-to-be-discovered Achilles tear, I wasn't sure I would be able to complete the journey, yet alone help others. Faith is such a personal experience, and it's not something I regularly share with friends and even more rarely, with colleagues. That being said, I prayed on it. I felt a deep-seated feeling in my gut- "I'm supposed to do this". I told colleagues and friends about it. When I got home I purchased their book on audible and listened to it as I began to ramp up my training. I was so inspired I purchased 15 more books (and later, even more) and began giving them to family and friends, with the caveat when they finished they would please share with someone else (I've done this before with books that truly touched me, like The Go Giver). I watched the documentary of their journey with my children. I applied for the 2025 Accessible Camino Trip.

In July of 2024, after completing their 9th Accessible Camino, Justin and Patrick announced they would be taking 2025 off, and that 2026 would be their FINAL Accessible Camino trip. I was on a wait list to apply for the 2026 trip.

Well, 2025 challenged me in perhaps every way a person can be challenged.

January: In January my burgeoning Achilles injury resulted in having Achilles surgery to fix the tears and strengthen the tendon (they build a sheath around the Achilles, after surgically removing a large heel spur). I was only off work for a few days, but my recovery was significant- it's a full year recovery that I am still working through.

The week after my surgery, a close family member did her daily check-in call. Now that I was no longer taking narcotics she had some news to share. She was diagnosed with Stage 2, Triple Positive breast cancer AND had tested positive for the BRCA 2 gene. In my world view, when someone I am close to needs something, I show up, whether is next door or across the country. I was supposed to protect this family member and take the hits for her, and I felt helpless, I couldn't walk, much less drive, to go and be with her.

February: The following month, my beloved mother-in-law, who had just turned 90 and celebrated with a family trip to Marina del Rey California, was diagnosed with Stage 4 Pancreatic Cancer. She passed away in April. Watching a vibrant, amazing woman, whose detailed, nuanced stories of escaping Cuba to build an incredible life in America captivated me, slowly, then quickly, go downhill was devastating for our family.

Summer: As we continued to process our grief, my significant other, Phil, celebrated a low-key birthday, and I began to get stronger, hoping that August would be the month when I bumped up from slow recovery to super-charged recovery. As we all know, when we make plans, God laughs. Phil called on that fateful Wednesday night to say he was going to stop by the neighbors on his way home from work (we were cat-sitting), I was out to dinner and not coming home for a few hours. The phone rang again 90 minutes later and Phil told me he was in an ambulance on his way to the hospital. Turns out he fell down the neighbor's step, twisted his leg and as he fell he landed squarely on his kneecap, rupturing 3 tendons in his knee, requiring emergency surgery. The next 8-12 weeks are a blur of caregiving, cleaning, working, prepping one kid to return to college and another to head out for their freshman year. During this time I was working on a special project for work and I was taking a personal development course that I had signed up for just before Phil's accident.

Autumn: I made the first cut and was invited for a formal interview for the Accessible Camino trip. I was thrilled! Again, I decided this was bigger than me; while of course I wanted to go, more importantly, I wanted, and I prayed, that the people who were supposed to go on this trip were selected. I was intentional that I wanted my heart and my head to be alignment, I really needed to believe this, otherwise it was just performative BS in my mind. I shared these feelings, thoughts and prayers with my good friend, Kristen, as well as a select, very small group, asking for positive vibes, prayers, etc. in the same vein of "whoever is supposed to go on this trip, is selected".

I received a text message one Saturday morning that made my difficult year, all the sweeter: "Jennifer, you're going to Spain with us! CONGRATULATIONS! You've been selected for the 2026 I'll Push You Accessible Camino Group trip on The French Way."

And so it begins. Training reset. This blog outlines the next 19 weeks of training.