I was fortunate to work with The University of South Carolina Men's Basketball team as a Graduate Assistant between the years of 2004-2006. The experiences I had then were rich beyond measure and probably need to be the subject a book of stories one day. And as the author Byron Katie would say, "Drop the 'probably.'"
If memory serves me correctly, it was during that second season that Matt Jennings, our Strength Coach, pitched to us to start walking back to the hotel after morning shootarounds on game days where we were on the road. (Remind me to tell sometime about the laughs we would all share if someone ever called him the Weight Coach. "Yep. That's me. Out here coaching weights!")
For those of you unfamiliar with college basketball, a shootaround is a practice of sorts the morning of the game to allow the guys to get shots up in the arena where we would be playing that night and have one final scouting report walk through to prepare for our opponent. Typically the shootarounds were in the morning.
So we started doing it. Those walks, even though I struggle to remember the details (probably should have been blogging then to remember) provided opportunities to connect with locals, see local sights and also provided amazing chances for us as a group of GAs and staff to bond. And all of that happened simply because we listened to Matt and just walked.
Until I started walking like that I didn't know how much of a walker I was. I mean, I really love to walk. I love to walk cities. I love to walk neighborhoods. I love to walk on a treadmill. My favorite, though, is to walk cities and neighborhoods that I don't know discovering nooks and crannies that I didn't know existed much like we experienced on our Matt Walks™️.
In recent months I've had morning walks in Charleston, Phoenix and now this morning in Madrid. The best morning walk is the one I don't plan on taking. That's what happened this morning.
After a long night flight where, of course, I didn't sleep, and a full day of 35,000+ steps around Madrid (yes, you read that correctly), I slept for 11 hours and woke up dazed and confused and with a couple of hours to burn before hopping the train that I am now on to Seville.
So I got out for an impromptu walk. I searched for breakfast first and got the best pincho tortilla (Spanish omelette) I have had yet, stopped by a local grocery (mercado) and went in a general store of sorts and also a thrift shop. Yep. Think "His House" in Columbia vibes. No. Not Goodwill. His House Broad River. Lo siento if you don't get the reflerence. This is a true "if you know, you know" situation.
I've discussed before on this blog, and in person, it's not the place that makes the experience for me. It's the people. And on my walk this morning it was the people that shaped the experience for me, not the places.
I have been incredibly fortunate to live the life and have the experiences I have had up to this point. And in my travels I have discovered that most foreign cities have streets, they have shops, they have tourist things to do and see, and they have restaurants. And I am not saying they are all the same. They're not. But at some point, a foreign city or town is just that. Foreign. It has places that I am not used to seeing. And it was in those places this morning that my experience of Madrid was truly shaped through the people I encountered along with the beliefs about me that I carry.
My first stop was a restaurant. I wasn't sure they were open because no one was eating in there. So I went to the counter and reached deep into my Rolodex of Spanish and asked the girl behind the counter, "¿abrir?" attempting to ask if they were open.
Nothing. She just stared at me.
I had a quick panic inside realizing that I was in a place wherein likely no English was being spoken.
Then I quickly shifted into an attitude of "this is PERFECT." I knew deep inside this was the type of place I was looking for. See my post about playing guitar in that restaurant in Japan for a deeper explanation of what I mean.
I ordered my pincho tortilla and cortado (Spanish coffee) and sat down. I needed a fork, and not knowing the word for fork, I played a fun game of charades to get a fork from the girl behind the counter. I must say, we made a pretty good team.
I sat in this cafe and enjoyed the sights and sounds of a local cafe in Madrid. Locals came in and out getting their coffees, speaking to the workers, and just living life. Spanish music, heavy on the salsa, played in the background.
It was heavenly.
As it came time for me to leave, I Google Translated (yes it's a verb) how to say:
"What do I owe?"
"Breakfast was very good."
The girl lit up, as most foreigners do, when I made my attempt to say these phrases in her native language. I said goodbye and was off to my next stop.
As I made it back to the street I realized then that I had stumbled into an impromptu morning walk and I was in a part of town where locals were. I love being a tourist, but I really love to see what local life is about when I travel.
Next stop was the mercado where, when I first entered, I smiled that one of the workers from the restaurant I just visited was buying a bag full of tomatoes. It was a small store but had just about everything one would ever need to live.
What made this experience so rich? The cashier. When she realized that I didn't speak Spanish, her face lit up. She was so kind in playing her own game of charades showing me what I owed and asking me if I needed a bag.
(By the way I just passed Ciudad Real Central Airport. It apparently is an airport that opened in 2009 and went bankrupt 3 years later and features a 13,000 foot runway. That's long. https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ciudad_Real_International_Airport)
If you know me and/or read this blog you'll know that one of my core misbeliefs is that I don't belong. I don't mention that for you to say, "Awwww but you do belong Brian."
I also know that I belong. And yet, sometimes I forget. I actively generate the belief that I do belong and remind myself of it often. But. If I'm not careful, the belief that I don't belong (coupled with the belief that I'm not good enough) will push me around and I will find in the world what I am generating myself meaning that I will find that I don't belong and that I'm not good enough. Interesting how that works, isn't it?
I say all of that to say: being in a foreign country, not speaking the language and coupled with being tired from travel and not actively generating beliefs of belonging and being good enough can cause me to start to spiral into a rough spot. I was beginning to climb into my head and spiral last night and a little this morning. This is what I do when I start to BELIEVE that I don't belong and BELIEVE that I am not good enough. Thankfully this morning I reminded myself of simple truths:
I am loved
I belong
I don't have to do anything to earn love
I am good enough
I am loved unconditionally
It was because I generated and carried those beliefs that I was able to accept the love and care that the people this morning gave me as well as accept the love and care from those I engaged with yesterday during a really fun Free Walking Tour (thank you Walkative for making it easy to sign up).
This is one of the main things I love about travel. It's a Petri dish for me to work on the things I am working on all of the time. Working on them in a foreign country gives me a different angle to work on them. It really feels like I'm lifting weights, struggling with generating these beliefs and deepening my knowing of the beliefs I'm working to generate.
It is really easy for me to walk into a place here and feel like I don't belong. Let's face it. I don't speak the language, I look like I'm not from here and I'm an American. I mention the last part because a vendor I visited last night seemed to have said something derogatory about me as an "Americano." But that's going to happen. It happens in my life back home. I'm not going to make everyone happy. Nor is it my responsibility to do so.
It was a fascinating morning and thanks to Matt and our morning walk crew for teaching me the power of a morning walk in an area I don't know, and for teaching me the value of having an open mind while on these walks.
It's one of my favorite things about me: my ability to show up. Be open. Be curious. Be loving.
My experience of life is so much richer when I show up like that.
On to Seville I go.
I wonder what magic I will encounter there.
This picture was taken on my morning walk near my hostel, Siesta and Go. I recommend this hostel as a quiet and clean place to recharge.
I love this picture for several reasons. Some which I may discuss later.
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