It was a seven-mile hike to the Walmart but I was determined to go the distance. Were there closer stores? Probably. But I was a scared college freshman. I had recently crashed my car. (That’s another story.) All I knew was the Walmart – which was seven miles away. It was late summer/early fall. I had young, strong legs and an abundance of time. I grabbed a backpack, some music and set off for the seven-mile walk to the Walmart.
The sun was waning late in the day but I still had hours before darkness. My idyllic country college, tucked among expansive corn fields and lazy wraparound porches, slowly shrank in the distance as I set off on my quest. On some level, I knew this was both impractical and inefficient. The fact was I wanted to do it. Never one to back down from a challenge, or ask for help, the feat I’d set for myself intrigued me; irregardless of the small reward of single-serve microwaveable soup. Could I do it? Would I do it? The answer to both was “yes” but I wanted to prove it to myself.
It is irritatingly true to say that I have a peculiar habit of making things harder on myself. Repeatedly throughout my life, I have chosen the harder, bumpier, nausea-inducing route even though easier alternatives were apparent. I suppose when you get down to it, I simply don’t want to take the easy path. I tell myself the harder path garners bigger rewards. (Note: I have nothing to support this hypothesis – except interesting stories.) Frankly, the wispy, romantic notion of a lonely walk on empty roads to country stores appealed to me.
However, I began to regret this decision just before the halfway mark. The Walmart was at the top of a hill. I have no idea how big the hill was, but after almost 3.5 miles it really didn’t matter; it might as well have been Everest. Walking past inflatable pool floats and clunky ice chests, I gratefully accepted the blast of conditioned air inside. Soon, I was checking out with an armful of soup and a single ice cold water. With one last moment of appreciation for 65 degrees, ceilings and linoleum floors, I walked outside and eyed the first steps of the 3.5 miles back to my dorm.
I often reflect back on this walk. Ultimately, it was stupid. I could have gotten a ride. I could have gone to a different store. I could have eaten something else. I could have done a lot of things differently than I did. However, there is something to be said for knowing and trusting yourself enough to set off on a long, hard (somewhat impractical) journey. Are there easier ways of getting places? Yes. Are they better ways of getting places? Yes. Yet, I remember my seven-mile hike to the Walmart vividly.
Yes, you can take the easy route.
Yes, sometimes there are easier options.
But sometimes…you just want to create a memory and take a walk.