Navigating Uncertainty: A Day of Reflection on the Run

Today, I woke up feeling slow, like I couldn't quite get going. I think it had to do with not knowing exactly which road I wanted to take. Uncertainty is always a bit of a brake—something that can inhibit or slow down action. Even after 58 days, that still holds true. I packed my things, and my wonderful host, who treated me a bit like a mother that morning, gave me a warm farewell. I told her it would take me a few more minutes to leave, but eventually, I made it through the door.

It was one of those days where, for some reason, I just wanted to turn around and stay in the comfort of not heading out into the unknown. For those who think I don’t experience that feeling—it still sets in quite often. But once I figured out my way out of town and started running, I was reminded again of what an incredible opportunity this is. So many people would love to leave their daily routines but have no choice. That realization helped me appreciate every step. Still, the uncertainty of my exact route lingered, and I found myself reflecting on decision-making.

I’ve come to believe that it's better to make a wrong decision and later realize I should have chosen differently than to be stuck in indecision and not move at all. Sometimes I feel unsafe, but overall, I am very safe. So what’s the problem, Andrea? I think it’s just that stepping outside of my comfort zone is inherently difficult.

Today’s run took me through relatively flat terrain, across the hot and dry fields of Araucanía, where only a few people live, and those who do seem to lead a simple life. As you might gather from my earlier thoughts, despite telling myself I wasn’t thinking much, I was actually thinking a lot. Running through places where people live in harsh, economically challenging conditions always makes me reflect—on inequality, on my privileges, on history, on the 'why' of it all. My thoughts often ran in circles without reaching clarity.

At least by mile 15, I had figured out my route. From that point on, I knew exactly which roads I would take and when I would turn. The thoughts, however, kept coming and going. I do like pondering while running, but I have to remind myself now and then to stay focused on traffic and my surroundings.

Most of the land I passed through felt hot and dry—the grass golden like hay, tractors working the fields, and the sun beating down much hotter than in previous days. When I arrived in Freire, my main concern was finding a place to stay as quickly as possible, hoping to avoid another long wait like yesterday. Thankfully, it worked out more easily this time—though the price was higher than I would have liked. But sometimes, there’s just no way around paying what’s asked.

Now, I’m wrapping up my work for the night and hoping to get some rest. Thanks for following along. I suppose our thoughts are our constant companions. At their best, they help us put things into perspective and gain a better understanding of the world. But for now—enough thinking for today. Cheers!