Dusty Camino de Santiago trail marked with iconic scallop shell posts under warm sunset light.

How the Camino de Santiago Changed My Life at 25

At 25, I found myself in one of the most exciting yet confusing chapters of my life. I was living in Spain on a gap year, studying Spanish and traveling around Europe. My family had just visited me, and we’d spent a week together in Sevilla and Prague, which was… nice, though you know how family trips can be. In just a few days, I was flying to Egypt for another adventure. I had started dating a Spanish girl, and beneath all the travel and romance was a decision that weighed on me constantly: should I return to the U.S. to start working, or take the risk of staying in Europe to build a life here?

It was in the middle of this emotional crossroads that I set out to walk the Camino de Santiago — hoping the long, quiet miles would help me find some clarity. I didn’t know it yet, but walking the Camino Inglés, about 118 km over 3 days from Ferrol to Santiago, would change my life in ways I never expected. If you’re interested in the full route breakdown, including daily distances, tips, and photos, you can check out my Camino Inglés itinerary here.

Pilgrim with backpack and scallop shell standing inside a golden church, ready to begin the Camino de Santiago.
At the start of the Camino, carrying more questions than answers.

Before the Camino: Feeling Stuck

Even though I was living what should have been a dream — traveling Europe, studying Spanish, meeting people, and seeing places I’d only ever read about — I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was… off. Every day I woke up with this quiet, constant pressure in the back of my mind, asking me what came next.

The question of whether to stay in Europe and build a life here or head back to the U.S. to start working wasn’t just a decision. It felt like the decision — the kind that would shape everything after. Staying in Europe seemed exciting but risky. The lower salaries, uncertain career prospects, and distance from home made me feel like I’d be sacrificing the future I thought I was supposed to build.

I went back and forth constantly, running through every possible scenario, second-guessing myself at every turn. On top of that, the pace of travel, school, family visits, and a new relationship was leaving me feeling untethered — like I was just bouncing from one thing to the next without any real clarity or direction.

By the time I decided to walk the Camino, I was hoping, maybe even expecting, that the miles would help me figure it all out.

Fork in a quiet forest trail, symbolizing uncertainty and a crossroads before starting the Camino de Santiago.
Choices in life can be hard and sometimes it feels like once you go down a path, you can’t go back.

On the Trail — The Journey

By Day 2 of the walk, I’d already covered about 72 kilometers (45 miles) and still had another 15 kilometers (9 miles) to go before I could finally stop for the day. Day 1 had been tough but manageable, full of nervous energy and the excitement of starting. The weather had been kind, the trail felt fresh, and even the soreness in my feet carried a sense of accomplishment.

But by the second day, my legs were screaming, my shoulders ached, and my energy was running on fumes. At that point, I honestly just wanted to sit down in the mud and wallow in the mess I’d willingly signed up for. So, like everyone else on the Camino, I kept walking.

The Inspiring Moment That Changed Everything

As I trudged along, debating whether to stop and take a break, I suddenly heard footsteps behind me. Someone was catching up — or at least it sounded that way. Whether there was actually anyone there, I couldn’t say, but something in me snapped: No one is going to pass me.

I made a deliberate choice to pick up the pace. The footsteps seemed to quicken too, and I pushed harder, walking faster and faster until it felt like I was flying down the trail. For miles I kept that pace, refusing to let whoever was behind me catch up.

When I finally turned around — miles later — there was no one there. Just silence, the empty trail stretching out behind me.

But the energy I’d tapped into stayed. I finished the remaining 15 kilometers with a determination I didn’t know I had.

That moment taught me something simple but profound: even when you feel like quitting — when your mind insists you’re done — there’s usually more left in the tank than you think. You’re in charge of your limits, and sometimes those limits are just illusions.

Lone hiker walking across an empty beach, reflecting determination and perseverance on the Camino de Santiago.
When you think you’ve reached your limit, you can always take another step.

Why That Moment Happened — The Science Behind It

What I experienced in that moment, digging deeper and finding unexpected energy when I thought I was spent, isn’t just some mystical Camino magic. There’s actually a name for it: the central governor theory, first proposed by researcher Tim Noakes.

This idea suggests that the brain deliberately limits your physical output well before your body actually reaches its true limits — a built-in safety mechanism designed to protect you from overdoing it. In other words, fatigue is partly an illusion, imposed by your mind to keep you “safe,” even though your body could handle more. As Noakes explains in Frontiers in Physiology, fatigue is essentially “a brain-derived emotion that regulates exercise behavior to protect the body” (Noakes, 2012).

Psychologists have also shown that self-regulation — the ability to control your focus, emotions, and impulses in pursuit of a goal — plays a critical role in endurance and perseverance, especially when under physical and mental stress. In a review published in Frontiers in Psychology, researchers describe how self-control helps people override the urge to quit and maintain effort during challenging activities.

When I heard those footsteps behind me, my brain reframed the situation. Instead of obsessing over how exhausted I felt, I zeroed in on the challenge of not being overtaken — and that mental shift triggered a surge of adrenaline I didn’t know I had. My pace quickened, my focus sharpened, and what had felt impossible minutes earlier suddenly felt within reach.

Whether someone was really behind me or not didn’t matter. That perceived challenge pushed me past what I thought I could do — proving that the limits I felt weren’t actually real, just illusions my mind had created.

How the Camino de Santiago Changed My Life Forever

Walking the Camino at 25 taught me more than I ever expected about my body, my mind, and the stories I tell myself. That moment on the trail, when I pushed through what I thought was my limit, has stayed with me ever since.

It turns out the Camino doesn’t just test your legs; it tests your perspective. It shows you that most of your limits aren’t real. They’re just comfortable excuses your mind offers when things get hard.

If you’re considering walking the Camino, or if you’re standing at your own crossroads right now, wondering if you have what it takes, here’s what I learned: you can always take one more step.

And sometimes that’s enough to change everything.

That experience on the Camino gave me the clarity I was searching for. It helped me realize what kind of life I really wanted — and gave me the confidence to choose it. I decided to stay in Europe, and today I’m building my life in Vienna.

Buen Camino.

Vienna skyline at sunset with St. Stephen’s Cathedral and glowing rooftops, symbolizing a new chapter after the Camino de Santiago.
Vienna at sunset — where my Camino journey ultimately led me.

Frequently Asked Questions

Does the Camino de Santiago really change your life?

It can — but it depends on what you bring to it. For me, walking the Camino forced me to slow down, confront my own doubts, and discover I was capable of more than I thought. The simplicity and rhythm of walking, combined with the physical challenge, create space for clarity and self-discovery.

Is the Camino more of a physical or mental challenge?

Both — but the mental part surprised me the most. The physical fatigue is real, but it’s manageable. The harder part is quieting your thoughts, pushing through discomfort, and realizing your limits are often self-imposed — especially if you’re walking on your own, with no one else to distract you or set the pace.

Do you need to be super fit to walk the Camino?

Not at all. People of all ages and fitness levels walk it every year. The key is to pace yourself, listen to your body, and take care of your feet. The Camino isn’t a race — it’s a journey.

How long is the Camino Inglés route you walked?

The Camino Inglés is about 118 km (73 miles) from Ferrol to Santiago. I completed it in 3 days, but many people take 4–6 days depending on their pace and how much they want to enjoy the stops along the way.

Where can I read more about your Camino route?

I wrote a detailed itinerary of the Camino Inglés, including daily distances, tips, and photos — you can check it out here.

What are the biggest lessons people learn on the Camino?

Many people say they learn patience, resilience, and how little they actually need to feel content. For me, the biggest lesson was realizing that the limits I felt were often in my head — and I was capable of more than I believed.

Is it safe to walk the Camino alone?

Yes — the Camino is considered very safe, even for solo travelers. The routes are well-marked, and you’ll usually encounter plenty of other pilgrims along the way if you want company.

How do you stay motivated when walking the Camino?

Focus on small milestones, take breaks when you need to, and remind yourself why you started. Walking solo taught me how powerful a shift in mindset can be when the going gets tough.

Why do people cry on the Camino?

It’s common for people to feel overwhelmed by the physical effort, emotional release, and sense of accomplishment — or even by the kindness of strangers along the way.

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