This morning, I had the privilege of being present at the memorial service for a woman I have known my whole life. Although I had known her since my childhood, I learned more about her at this memorial through the words and stories told by her daughters, who are my peers and friends. I heard the most incredible words in the stories that they told about their mom.
Both daughters remarked that they really couldn’t recall a day of their lives that their mom didn’t say these words:
“It’s a great day to be alive, isn’t it?”
Those words resonated for me. After all, isn’t that exactly why I walk and crew in the 3Day for the Cure? We each should always be grateful for and reminded that life is short, and life – every day of it – is a gift. Although I have been walking and crewing in the 3Day walks for 9 years now, I can sometimes lose touch with the very basic reason that we walk. We walk because we are the ones who can. We walk in memory of friends lost. We walk in honor of survivors fighting. We walk for the daughters we are glad to know are healthy. We walk in the hope that someday nobody will worry about losing their loved one to this disease. But really, that simple message sums it all up. We walk BECAUSE IT IS A GREAT DAY TO BE ALIVE.
So, there I was, heading into the afternoon with that thought bouncing around in my head. And off I went with my 16 year old daughter so she could practice highway driving. About half an hour into things, another car merged onto the highway without yielding and we were hit on the passenger side. I’ve never actually been in a moving car in an accident, and it was pretty frightening. I saw the accident coming and there was little I could do to stop it. My daughter, with only 4 months of driving experience, reacted exactly right, and she probably saved our lives. She didn’t swerve into the next lane where we would definitely have been collided into, spun badly around or worse. She didn’t slam on her brakes in a panic causing us to be rear-ended at highway speeds. She remained calm enough to slow us down into a gentle collision. Sure the merging car crashed into us. And yes, we were all shook up and both cars sustained damage. But it could have been so much worse.
And there it was, clear as the squashed up quarter-panel and the badly bent passenger doorframe. Clear as the light of day that we all walked away into.
It is a great day to be alive. Every. Single. Day.
Showing posts with label walk. Show all posts
Showing posts with label walk. Show all posts
Saturday, August 21, 2010
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Countdown Time
I’ve been enjoying the tweets the past few days from folks getting ready to walk in the Boston 3-Day next month. The message winging about states something along the lines of: “in one month, I will be walking in the Boston 3-Day”. It is exciting stuff to be at the countdown to the big event. As I read those comments, I started to think about the next step. If you will be walking 4 weeks from now (or 6 weeks, or 8, or whatever your own countdown is), what will you be doing 4 weeks and THREE DAYS from now? I’m encouraging you to think ahead and plan for the moments after your 3-day. What will you be doing to keep your spirit of the 3-day alive?
Whether you walk or you crew, those three days are going to be swirling with physical challenges and teeming with emotional moments. For three days, you will be pushing yourself to be the best person within you. You will be cheering for everyone around you; and you will be cheered on for every step you take and every box you lift. It’s a wonderful world – the 3-Day.
You have probably started to plan for what you will do at the end of those three in terms of the logistics; such as who will you pick you up at closing and how you will get home. Next, I strongly urge you to think about what you will do to hold onto the sense of the 3-day. A community bonded together is something we all need to feel every day of our lives. The power of a group of people who spend all their hours dedicated to a single purpose contains the energy to change the world. If only we could bottle that energy, we will be poised to make a difference in every life we touch.
So, think about how you can bottle up that energy and carry it with you. Be prepared for a little sense of let-down when you leave the 3-day community and head back into your “real life”. But if you plan ahead for this big shift, hopefully you will be ready to carry the energy with you and keep going out into the world, ready to make a difference every day.
During the 3-day, I try to look around and notice all the different people who have banded together in this common goal. I focus on how many different ages there are, and different places we have all come from. By absorbing into my mind the wide range of people that are together during the 3-day, I find that when I get into the ‘real world’, I am able to trust and believe that those people, and that strength of community is still there. In knowing and trusting that those good people are still around me every day, I am poised to remember to do good things for other people every day.
When you get back into ‘the world’, carry the 3-Day community with you. Cheer for that coworker who offers to bring coffee to work. Embrace your friend who takes care of your pets when you go away. Hold the door open for a stranger. Praise your partner for emptying the dishwasher. Life is a challenge every day, and harnessing the power of the 3-day spirit will help you make it a better world for yourself and everyone around you.
Whether you walk or you crew, those three days are going to be swirling with physical challenges and teeming with emotional moments. For three days, you will be pushing yourself to be the best person within you. You will be cheering for everyone around you; and you will be cheered on for every step you take and every box you lift. It’s a wonderful world – the 3-Day.
You have probably started to plan for what you will do at the end of those three in terms of the logistics; such as who will you pick you up at closing and how you will get home. Next, I strongly urge you to think about what you will do to hold onto the sense of the 3-day. A community bonded together is something we all need to feel every day of our lives. The power of a group of people who spend all their hours dedicated to a single purpose contains the energy to change the world. If only we could bottle that energy, we will be poised to make a difference in every life we touch.
So, think about how you can bottle up that energy and carry it with you. Be prepared for a little sense of let-down when you leave the 3-day community and head back into your “real life”. But if you plan ahead for this big shift, hopefully you will be ready to carry the energy with you and keep going out into the world, ready to make a difference every day.
During the 3-day, I try to look around and notice all the different people who have banded together in this common goal. I focus on how many different ages there are, and different places we have all come from. By absorbing into my mind the wide range of people that are together during the 3-day, I find that when I get into the ‘real world’, I am able to trust and believe that those people, and that strength of community is still there. In knowing and trusting that those good people are still around me every day, I am poised to remember to do good things for other people every day.
When you get back into ‘the world’, carry the 3-Day community with you. Cheer for that coworker who offers to bring coffee to work. Embrace your friend who takes care of your pets when you go away. Hold the door open for a stranger. Praise your partner for emptying the dishwasher. Life is a challenge every day, and harnessing the power of the 3-day spirit will help you make it a better world for yourself and everyone around you.
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Connections Really Count
Earlier this week, I responded to a friend request on www.DailyMile.com. In case you haven’t visited DailyMile, it is an awesome website that provides a fun format within which to track miles walked/run/swam, etc. At DailyMile you can also watch, motivate and inspire your friends in their own training. On the DailyMile site, people can search for you by name, exercise type, interests and group, and they request your friendship. The other day, I received a friend request from a walker named Pam. When I see a new friend request on my page, I like to look at the requester’s profile to determine our connection. Most of the requests I get are either from people I know in “real life”, or they are 3Day walkers. Pam was one of the latter.
I replied to Pam’s friend request, welcoming her to the 3Day community and acknowledging that I was looking forward to following her training. The message I sent to Pam was pretty much the same one that I have written to welcome other walkers on DailyMile. But something different happened this time. Pam responded right away and we started a dialogue. She mentioned that she was a first-timer and that she was hoping DailyMile would help her to be more motivated in her training. She lamented that she was having some trouble staying motivated; and that she is far away from the rest of her teammates. I encouraged her to follow @the3day and various 3-Day walkers on Twitter, to read the blogs of the online ambassadors, and to “like” the 3Day on facebook. Pam wrote that, up until this point, she had mostly been using facebook to connect to the event. She also told me that although she had a twitter username, she wasn’t using it. I asked her if she’d like me to inquire among my cyber friends whether there were other walkers in her city that she might hook up with. She thought that sounded great.
What happened next was a cyber-storm of activity. My plea for support for my new friend was met with a flurry of affirmative responses, including a few offers from walkers in her city asking for her contact information so that they could reach out to her. Before I could even tell Pam about this development, I realized that she was now following me on Twitter. So I tweeted her a big welcoming ‘shout out’. And the rest, as you sometimes hear, was history. Within a few hours, Pam was tweeting with more 3Day walkers than she could keep track of. I was shaking my head in amazement and joy when, just two hours after I had suggested she start ‘tweeting’, she was making plans with walkers in her area to meet for a training walk. Should I chalk it up to the wonders of cyber communication? Yes, but even moreso, I need to chalk it up to the wonders of the 3Day community!
The intense rapidness of connection that happened between Pam and her new community of local walker friends has a lot in common with how connections happen on the actual event. Imagine this: maybe I’m walking and I meet another walker. She tells me that she’s new to the 3Day and shares her story with me. I listen and I realize that she has a lot in common with someone I met in the dinner tent the night before. As we approach the next Rest Stop, I see the friend from dinner and I call out to her. I introduce my two new friends and they immediately start sharing stories. My dinner friend shouts out to her three teammates to join us, and now the six of us are walking out from the rest stop getting to know one another and making connections that will last miles into our future. Before we know it, our conversation has eaten away at ten more miles. The power of the3Day community has fueled our afternoon and kept us motivated and strong. This is what happens on The3Day, and it happens over and over again, all day long, for three beautiful days. To witness this same magical connectedness happen on my computer screen inspired me to believe that the power of the 3Day is alive every day.
I replied to Pam’s friend request, welcoming her to the 3Day community and acknowledging that I was looking forward to following her training. The message I sent to Pam was pretty much the same one that I have written to welcome other walkers on DailyMile. But something different happened this time. Pam responded right away and we started a dialogue. She mentioned that she was a first-timer and that she was hoping DailyMile would help her to be more motivated in her training. She lamented that she was having some trouble staying motivated; and that she is far away from the rest of her teammates. I encouraged her to follow @the3day and various 3-Day walkers on Twitter, to read the blogs of the online ambassadors, and to “like” the 3Day on facebook. Pam wrote that, up until this point, she had mostly been using facebook to connect to the event. She also told me that although she had a twitter username, she wasn’t using it. I asked her if she’d like me to inquire among my cyber friends whether there were other walkers in her city that she might hook up with. She thought that sounded great.
What happened next was a cyber-storm of activity. My plea for support for my new friend was met with a flurry of affirmative responses, including a few offers from walkers in her city asking for her contact information so that they could reach out to her. Before I could even tell Pam about this development, I realized that she was now following me on Twitter. So I tweeted her a big welcoming ‘shout out’. And the rest, as you sometimes hear, was history. Within a few hours, Pam was tweeting with more 3Day walkers than she could keep track of. I was shaking my head in amazement and joy when, just two hours after I had suggested she start ‘tweeting’, she was making plans with walkers in her area to meet for a training walk. Should I chalk it up to the wonders of cyber communication? Yes, but even moreso, I need to chalk it up to the wonders of the 3Day community!
The intense rapidness of connection that happened between Pam and her new community of local walker friends has a lot in common with how connections happen on the actual event. Imagine this: maybe I’m walking and I meet another walker. She tells me that she’s new to the 3Day and shares her story with me. I listen and I realize that she has a lot in common with someone I met in the dinner tent the night before. As we approach the next Rest Stop, I see the friend from dinner and I call out to her. I introduce my two new friends and they immediately start sharing stories. My dinner friend shouts out to her three teammates to join us, and now the six of us are walking out from the rest stop getting to know one another and making connections that will last miles into our future. Before we know it, our conversation has eaten away at ten more miles. The power of the3Day community has fueled our afternoon and kept us motivated and strong. This is what happens on The3Day, and it happens over and over again, all day long, for three beautiful days. To witness this same magical connectedness happen on my computer screen inspired me to believe that the power of the 3Day is alive every day.
Friday, June 11, 2010
Walking in the Rain Part Two
As I wrote about in yesterday’s post, Matt & I had scheduled a training walk for yesterday evening. In the morning, it seemed fairly definite that it was going to rain down on us. We decided that our training was important, and that we wouldn't melt if we walked in a little rain. I wrote yesterday about some of the ways that walking in the rain is pretty insignificant when measured against the importance of what we are walking for.
After work, when we met to head out for our training walk, it wasn’t raining. In fact, the sun was shining and it was getting steamy. I decided to go with my lightweight windbreaker, rather than the heavy rain jacket and rain pants. About 2 miles into the walk, we were not only still dry, we were actually getting hot. I commented on the heat and we laughed at the irony of the post I had written that morning; and then the skies laughed back at us and let loose a torrent of rain and thunder that had my pants soaked through in mere minutes.
We walked another 5 miles in the rain. Not only did my pants soak through, so did my windbreaker. But we walked on and stayed upbeat. The focus of my blog post from the morning really helped. After all, it is easy to keep going when you have an end in sight. We both knew that all we had to do was walk in wet clothes for about an hour and then we would be home to take hot showers and relax over a warm supper. I can do anything for an hour when there is a happy ending in sight.
Our positive attitude was rewarded doubly about ½ mile from the end of the walk, when I glanced off to the east and saw a magnificent rainbow spanning the horizon above the trees. Yesterday’s training walk was a lot like my dedication to The 3Day. We really do need keep walking, and we need to keep crewing and we need to keep fundraising and we need to keep reminding people about this important cause. If we just keep going, the reward will come. Yesterday, our reward was a rainbow at the end of our training walk. Someday it will be a world without breast cancer.
After work, when we met to head out for our training walk, it wasn’t raining. In fact, the sun was shining and it was getting steamy. I decided to go with my lightweight windbreaker, rather than the heavy rain jacket and rain pants. About 2 miles into the walk, we were not only still dry, we were actually getting hot. I commented on the heat and we laughed at the irony of the post I had written that morning; and then the skies laughed back at us and let loose a torrent of rain and thunder that had my pants soaked through in mere minutes.
We walked another 5 miles in the rain. Not only did my pants soak through, so did my windbreaker. But we walked on and stayed upbeat. The focus of my blog post from the morning really helped. After all, it is easy to keep going when you have an end in sight. We both knew that all we had to do was walk in wet clothes for about an hour and then we would be home to take hot showers and relax over a warm supper. I can do anything for an hour when there is a happy ending in sight.
Our positive attitude was rewarded doubly about ½ mile from the end of the walk, when I glanced off to the east and saw a magnificent rainbow spanning the horizon above the trees. Yesterday’s training walk was a lot like my dedication to The 3Day. We really do need keep walking, and we need to keep crewing and we need to keep fundraising and we need to keep reminding people about this important cause. If we just keep going, the reward will come. Yesterday, our reward was a rainbow at the end of our training walk. Someday it will be a world without breast cancer.
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Walking in the Rain
It’s raining out there! Waking up takes a little bit longer on mornings like this – the sky is glazed with grey and the sunlight that usually streams in my bedroom window is diffused and weak. Generally, I’m a fan of rain. In summertime, rainstorms remind me of childhood – when we would run outside into the rain seeking puddles to stomp through. Even now, as an adult, mid-summer thunderstorms are a joy that I share with my children and we laugh and dance around the yard until our clothing sticks to our skin.
But today, the rain is triggering a different thought, one as grey as the sky itself. That thought? “I’m going to walk in this pouring rain.” Today, after work, Matt and I have planned for an 8-mile walk. Training for a 3-day/60-mile walk takes a lot of time. It takes many hours every week. It takes scheduling finesse to fit all those hours around full-time jobs and parenting and taking care of our home. Our walk is still almost 4 months away, and yet we are “supposed” to walk about 20 miles this week to stay on track with our training. This is my 9th year walking in The 3-Day Walk for Breast Cancer, and I have learned over the years how incredibly important it is to train, train, train. And so, recognizing the importance of training, we schedule our walks carefully to fit everything we must do into our busy lives.
So, here’s the thing. Today it is raining. And today we are going to go for a walk that will take 2-3 hours. Because we are in training, and we have to make 20 miles fit into our week, we will be walking in the rain. It’s not just rainy, it is also colder than usual for June. But we’re walking anyway. We’ll dress warmly, and we’ll don our rain pants and rain jackets and we’ll suck it up. Cause here’s the thing about training for The 3Day Walk for Breast Cancer: it’s just a walk. After all, at the end of our 8 miles, when we are cold and wet, we will come home, drink hot tea and take hot showers. Even if we were “on event”, we would still do those things (and then sleep in a tent). But through all of it, it’ll still be just a walk. It won’t be cancer. I won’t be facing frightening treatment options. I won’t be watching my hair fall out. I won’t be waiting for a surgeon to decide whether I will keep my breast. I won’t be facing cancer. I’ll just be getting a little wet.
Get out there and walk, no matter what weather you are facing. It is just a walk. So, we’re gonna just keep going – rain or shine.
But today, the rain is triggering a different thought, one as grey as the sky itself. That thought? “I’m going to walk in this pouring rain.” Today, after work, Matt and I have planned for an 8-mile walk. Training for a 3-day/60-mile walk takes a lot of time. It takes many hours every week. It takes scheduling finesse to fit all those hours around full-time jobs and parenting and taking care of our home. Our walk is still almost 4 months away, and yet we are “supposed” to walk about 20 miles this week to stay on track with our training. This is my 9th year walking in The 3-Day Walk for Breast Cancer, and I have learned over the years how incredibly important it is to train, train, train. And so, recognizing the importance of training, we schedule our walks carefully to fit everything we must do into our busy lives.
So, here’s the thing. Today it is raining. And today we are going to go for a walk that will take 2-3 hours. Because we are in training, and we have to make 20 miles fit into our week, we will be walking in the rain. It’s not just rainy, it is also colder than usual for June. But we’re walking anyway. We’ll dress warmly, and we’ll don our rain pants and rain jackets and we’ll suck it up. Cause here’s the thing about training for The 3Day Walk for Breast Cancer: it’s just a walk. After all, at the end of our 8 miles, when we are cold and wet, we will come home, drink hot tea and take hot showers. Even if we were “on event”, we would still do those things (and then sleep in a tent). But through all of it, it’ll still be just a walk. It won’t be cancer. I won’t be facing frightening treatment options. I won’t be watching my hair fall out. I won’t be waiting for a surgeon to decide whether I will keep my breast. I won’t be facing cancer. I’ll just be getting a little wet.
Get out there and walk, no matter what weather you are facing. It is just a walk. So, we’re gonna just keep going – rain or shine.
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Sense of Purpose
Recently, I celebrated a very special anniversary. I call it a ‘walkaversary’. Nine years ago, I participated in my first 3Day Walk for Breast Cancer. On that first 3Day Walk, I met a particularly friendly walker who is now my husband. That’s probably reason enough to celebrate!
But I also celebrate that my life changed that weekend in more ways than I can recount (many are described in other blog posts you can read below). One major change is that walking became a constant part of my everyday life. On the last day of my first 3Day walk, I limped on a very swollen knee to the registration tent and signed up to do it again the following year. Since that day, I walk at least 4-6 hours every week, and each year as training kicks into gear, I walk up to 25-30 hours a week.
People ask how I stay motivated to walk so much. Matt and I are lucky because, since the walk has been part of our lives together from the very start, walking is a way that we celebrate our life together. Walking dates are a big part of what we like to do. That helps. But there are some other things that I recognize as being the ways that I stay inspired to keep walking year round. I hope that this list might help you keep focus in your training life.
1. Respecting Your Training = Respecting Yourself.
We all have jobs or classes and doctor’s appointments and committee meetings and more that we have to get to at specific times. And, generally, we make it to all those places when we are supposed to because we have scheduled it. You need to make walking as important as anything else in your life. Schedule time to walk and write that time directly onto your calendar as an event. Consider it a date with yourself. You wouldn’t break a date with a friend, would you? So don’t break dates with yourself!
2. Be Impressed With Yourself.
Training for The 3Day takes a lot of time and effort. Be impressed with what you are accomplishing. Tracking your training in a visible and accountable way will help you stay reminded that you should be proud of what you are doing when you take time to train. There are lots of ways that you can track all those miles. Create a chart and post it in your kitchen, make a special calendar for your office, or use an online tracking program, such as www.DailyMile.com. Whatever helps you to blow your own horn is worthwhile. What you are doing is special and incredible!
3. Be Inspired, Be Brave and Don’t Be Afraid to Cry a Little.
There are as many different experiences and meanings to the 3Day as there are walkers and crew. The stories of others will give you tremendous motivation to keep training. It is inspiring to read about why people are walking, what they are learning about themselves, how they are fundraising and more. Look for blogs on the subject, and follow the winding trail from the bloggers you like best to those that they are reading and recommending. I have listed a few of my most recent reads on my blog; other bloggers do the same. Reading the words of others can help you to think more about your own story, and this will definitely help you to keep those feet moving.
4. Embrace the Community
If you haven’t yet been on a 3Day event, you will soon discover that it is like a very big family, without the family drama. The 3Day is all about community. Walking or crewing a 3Day is a very intense experience and you can’t help but embrace the people who share it with you. Bringing that sense of community into your life year-round is a great motivator. I am grateful to the cyber world that has developed in the 9 years since my first walk. Rather than go home and lose that feeling of community during the months between events, I can visit with my 3Day family all the time. If you “like” The 3Day on facebook (http://www.facebook.com/3dayforthecure?ref=ts) you will get great pointers in your news feed, including links from online ambassadors. If you follow the 3Day on Twitter (http://twitter.com/the3day) you read fun comments all day long, and you will find yourself immersed in a community of wonderful 3Day friends. Soon you will be connecting with lots of people who will embrace you and the journey you are taking. It doesn’t matter what city each of us will be in when we have our 3Days, because we are all connected through our common passion.
5. Recognize Your Sense of Purpose
Staying motivated to train is easy when you stay connected to your own personal sense of purpose. You decided to take this journey for your own reasons. These reasons define your sense of purpose. Stay connected to that. Create a mantra that helps you focus on the meaning of your 3Day Walk. I focus on the mantra: “it’s just a walk”. With these words, I remind myself that even if my feet blister or my knees swell up, it is still just a walk. It isn’t chemo and it isn’t living in fear of leaving my daughter without a mom. I remind myself that I am walking for those who cannot take this journey. And for me, it’s just one foot in front of the other over and over again. It’s just a walk.
Think about your own reason for walking. Whatever it is, dedicate yourself and your training to that purpose. Commit yourself to training to honor that purpose. Your sense of who you are and why you are making this journey are worth naming and repeating. And doing that is certain to keep you going every time.
But I also celebrate that my life changed that weekend in more ways than I can recount (many are described in other blog posts you can read below). One major change is that walking became a constant part of my everyday life. On the last day of my first 3Day walk, I limped on a very swollen knee to the registration tent and signed up to do it again the following year. Since that day, I walk at least 4-6 hours every week, and each year as training kicks into gear, I walk up to 25-30 hours a week.
People ask how I stay motivated to walk so much. Matt and I are lucky because, since the walk has been part of our lives together from the very start, walking is a way that we celebrate our life together. Walking dates are a big part of what we like to do. That helps. But there are some other things that I recognize as being the ways that I stay inspired to keep walking year round. I hope that this list might help you keep focus in your training life.
1. Respecting Your Training = Respecting Yourself.
We all have jobs or classes and doctor’s appointments and committee meetings and more that we have to get to at specific times. And, generally, we make it to all those places when we are supposed to because we have scheduled it. You need to make walking as important as anything else in your life. Schedule time to walk and write that time directly onto your calendar as an event. Consider it a date with yourself. You wouldn’t break a date with a friend, would you? So don’t break dates with yourself!
2. Be Impressed With Yourself.
Training for The 3Day takes a lot of time and effort. Be impressed with what you are accomplishing. Tracking your training in a visible and accountable way will help you stay reminded that you should be proud of what you are doing when you take time to train. There are lots of ways that you can track all those miles. Create a chart and post it in your kitchen, make a special calendar for your office, or use an online tracking program, such as www.DailyMile.com. Whatever helps you to blow your own horn is worthwhile. What you are doing is special and incredible!
3. Be Inspired, Be Brave and Don’t Be Afraid to Cry a Little.
There are as many different experiences and meanings to the 3Day as there are walkers and crew. The stories of others will give you tremendous motivation to keep training. It is inspiring to read about why people are walking, what they are learning about themselves, how they are fundraising and more. Look for blogs on the subject, and follow the winding trail from the bloggers you like best to those that they are reading and recommending. I have listed a few of my most recent reads on my blog; other bloggers do the same. Reading the words of others can help you to think more about your own story, and this will definitely help you to keep those feet moving.
4. Embrace the Community
If you haven’t yet been on a 3Day event, you will soon discover that it is like a very big family, without the family drama. The 3Day is all about community. Walking or crewing a 3Day is a very intense experience and you can’t help but embrace the people who share it with you. Bringing that sense of community into your life year-round is a great motivator. I am grateful to the cyber world that has developed in the 9 years since my first walk. Rather than go home and lose that feeling of community during the months between events, I can visit with my 3Day family all the time. If you “like” The 3Day on facebook (http://www.facebook.com/3dayforthecure?ref=ts) you will get great pointers in your news feed, including links from online ambassadors. If you follow the 3Day on Twitter (http://twitter.com/the3day) you read fun comments all day long, and you will find yourself immersed in a community of wonderful 3Day friends. Soon you will be connecting with lots of people who will embrace you and the journey you are taking. It doesn’t matter what city each of us will be in when we have our 3Days, because we are all connected through our common passion.
5. Recognize Your Sense of Purpose
Staying motivated to train is easy when you stay connected to your own personal sense of purpose. You decided to take this journey for your own reasons. These reasons define your sense of purpose. Stay connected to that. Create a mantra that helps you focus on the meaning of your 3Day Walk. I focus on the mantra: “it’s just a walk”. With these words, I remind myself that even if my feet blister or my knees swell up, it is still just a walk. It isn’t chemo and it isn’t living in fear of leaving my daughter without a mom. I remind myself that I am walking for those who cannot take this journey. And for me, it’s just one foot in front of the other over and over again. It’s just a walk.
Think about your own reason for walking. Whatever it is, dedicate yourself and your training to that purpose. Commit yourself to training to honor that purpose. Your sense of who you are and why you are making this journey are worth naming and repeating. And doing that is certain to keep you going every time.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
It's the Little Things
Whenever Matt and I are walking, we’re on the lookout for critters: bunnies, squirrels, birds, chipmunks, groundhogs, or whatever we are lucky enough to spot. We have a similar way of looking at the world and can often pass several miles talking about the critters we’ve seen or telling stories from their viewpoint. It can get pretty amusing when we start imagining the conversations that the critters might be having about us. This way of seeing the world is something we have in common, and it is fortunate that we both love finding bits of nature to catch our eyes and motivate our walks. If just one of us was stopping to look at little things along the way, I imagine that the other one might become impatient. Instead, we are each able to inspire one another to keep a watchful eye on fields and woods.
A few weeks ago, we were on an 8-mile training walk and we stopped at about Mile 3 to check on a puddle-y pond that Matt has, for years, insisted is filled with frogs. We have repeatedly checked this little pond and he always insists that there are frogs there, but never had we spotted one. That changed for us last Saturday. I’m glad that he is so much more patient than I am when it comes to waiting for the critters. We stopped along the bike path and leaned hopefully onto the fence that overlooks this little puddle of water.
We watched the water for a few minutes and I was ready to give up, repeating - as I have on many occasions - that there are no frogs in this not-really-a-pond. But Matt grabbed my arm just as I was ready to walk away, and he pointed. It took several seconds for my eyes to adjust before I spotted the frog, but sure enough there he was. Within minutes, we were registering a tally and grinning like little kids. We found 8 frogs that afternoon and stayed watching them for about 20 minutes while folks whizzed by on their bikes and roller blades, oblivious to the froggy haven that we had discovered. Eventually we pulled ourselves away and walked the rest of our miles, engaged and renewed by the strength that watching those frogs had invested in us.
Not everyone is motivated by frog-power, but here is where I am going to suggest that maybe you should be. Inspired by the beauty of nature, I am motivated to be my best self. But there was something more happening for me as I watched those frogs do almost nothing as they floated in their puddle. The following Saturday, when we discovered 7 tiny salamanders alongside the path, I felt that same inspiration building in me again. A well of emotion and motivation invigorates me when we spot critters. That day, I decided it was time to think about what the inspiration is that I am finding from these small living things.
Every time that I stop and appreciate a simple critter living its life, I am rejoicing in all of life. That’s why it has become an important aspect of my training walks. Every 3Day event in which I participate – as a walker or as crew – is an opportunity for me to focus on life and living. My commitment to the 3Day is a dedication to the value of life, and to the hope that someday no more lives will be lost to breast cancer.
Collecting an inventory of critters while I train helps remind me of the reasons that I walk in a way that feels very tangible for me. I am watching for frogs to honor the memory of being at the lake with my friend, Mary Kay, who lost her fight with breast cancer almost 8 years ago. I am counting the salamanders for the woman who is lying on her couch counting ceiling tiles while she recovers from this week’s chemo. I am laughing at the antics of the squirrels for the little boy who wishes his mom were there to laugh at the Saturday morning cartoons with him. I am grinning at the chipmunks dancing along the bike path to remember the man who is driving his daughter home from her first dance alone. When I am standing mesmerized by a bird I have never seen before, I honor the bride whose mother isn’t there to see her wedding finery. When I rejoice in seeing the first bunnies of spring, I am celebrating my friend, Diane, a two-time survivor and the spirit that gets all creatures through the winters of their lives.
The suggestion that one should ‘stop and smell the flowers’ is valid and valuable advice. However, I caution you against thinking that is the only way to engage with the natural world. Simply smelling the flowers is not enough. You need to look at them and hold them and think about what the flowers really mean. And so, I offer this new twist on the old adage, “Stop and look for frogs.” Maybe it won’t be frogs that you find for your inspiration. But find something that helps you to be reminded that we are in this for very big reasons, even if you are reminded by something small.
A few weeks ago, we were on an 8-mile training walk and we stopped at about Mile 3 to check on a puddle-y pond that Matt has, for years, insisted is filled with frogs. We have repeatedly checked this little pond and he always insists that there are frogs there, but never had we spotted one. That changed for us last Saturday. I’m glad that he is so much more patient than I am when it comes to waiting for the critters. We stopped along the bike path and leaned hopefully onto the fence that overlooks this little puddle of water.
We watched the water for a few minutes and I was ready to give up, repeating - as I have on many occasions - that there are no frogs in this not-really-a-pond. But Matt grabbed my arm just as I was ready to walk away, and he pointed. It took several seconds for my eyes to adjust before I spotted the frog, but sure enough there he was. Within minutes, we were registering a tally and grinning like little kids. We found 8 frogs that afternoon and stayed watching them for about 20 minutes while folks whizzed by on their bikes and roller blades, oblivious to the froggy haven that we had discovered. Eventually we pulled ourselves away and walked the rest of our miles, engaged and renewed by the strength that watching those frogs had invested in us.
Not everyone is motivated by frog-power, but here is where I am going to suggest that maybe you should be. Inspired by the beauty of nature, I am motivated to be my best self. But there was something more happening for me as I watched those frogs do almost nothing as they floated in their puddle. The following Saturday, when we discovered 7 tiny salamanders alongside the path, I felt that same inspiration building in me again. A well of emotion and motivation invigorates me when we spot critters. That day, I decided it was time to think about what the inspiration is that I am finding from these small living things.
Every time that I stop and appreciate a simple critter living its life, I am rejoicing in all of life. That’s why it has become an important aspect of my training walks. Every 3Day event in which I participate – as a walker or as crew – is an opportunity for me to focus on life and living. My commitment to the 3Day is a dedication to the value of life, and to the hope that someday no more lives will be lost to breast cancer.
Collecting an inventory of critters while I train helps remind me of the reasons that I walk in a way that feels very tangible for me. I am watching for frogs to honor the memory of being at the lake with my friend, Mary Kay, who lost her fight with breast cancer almost 8 years ago. I am counting the salamanders for the woman who is lying on her couch counting ceiling tiles while she recovers from this week’s chemo. I am laughing at the antics of the squirrels for the little boy who wishes his mom were there to laugh at the Saturday morning cartoons with him. I am grinning at the chipmunks dancing along the bike path to remember the man who is driving his daughter home from her first dance alone. When I am standing mesmerized by a bird I have never seen before, I honor the bride whose mother isn’t there to see her wedding finery. When I rejoice in seeing the first bunnies of spring, I am celebrating my friend, Diane, a two-time survivor and the spirit that gets all creatures through the winters of their lives.
The suggestion that one should ‘stop and smell the flowers’ is valid and valuable advice. However, I caution you against thinking that is the only way to engage with the natural world. Simply smelling the flowers is not enough. You need to look at them and hold them and think about what the flowers really mean. And so, I offer this new twist on the old adage, “Stop and look for frogs.” Maybe it won’t be frogs that you find for your inspiration. But find something that helps you to be reminded that we are in this for very big reasons, even if you are reminded by something small.
Monday, March 8, 2010
What's In a Tattoo?
Last Thursday, I went with my 20-year old son, Zak, and a friend of ours and we all got tattoos. This was my third ink, and they have each been special, but this is the first time that I have branded myself with a declaration of commitment and personal passion. This tattoo is not a declaration of just one person; it is a declaration of my passion for thousands of people, and thousands of miles. My new tattoo declares forever my passion for The3Day walks. Adorning my leg is a blue 3 entwined with a pink ribbon. It feels great to have it there, like it has been waiting to be born.
The decision to get my tattoo at the same time that Zak was getting his first started out just as a mom being there for and with her son. I’d been thinking for a few years of getting this design in ink and when he started talking about getting a tattoo, it seemed like good timing. Funny thing is, I didn’t realize until we were there how perfect it was to have him along for this particular declaration. As we shared the tattoo party, I reflected on my son’s connection to my 3Day experiences.
Zak was part of my journey to The3Day from the very start. My first walk was dedicated to my friend Mary Kaye, who was battling breast cancer in the wake of having lost her husband to pancreatic cancer just a year before her own diagnosis. My friendship with Mary Kaye was really borne of our boys’ friendship with one another. If not for the persistence of my son and hers in their need to stay connected it’s possible that Mary Kaye and I might have missed the chance to be in one another’s lives in a deep and meaningful way. If not for Zak and R’s friendship, it’s probable that Mar and I would have only been once-in-awhile friends. So because of his role in the start of that friendship, Zak was a part of my 3Day journey from before it even began.
When I started training for my first walk, I was unprepared for the amount of hours that one must dedicate to walking. My son quickly turned the training from a chore into a pleasure by joining me on our local bike path. He’d ride his bike for miles up and down the path cycling past me, then riding alongside me then falling behind me. And then he would start all over again. He could have been out with his friends; he could have been home playing games. But instead, my 11-year old boy was keeping me company and cheering me on so I could train. When I hit the streets on my first 3Day event and saw the bike safety crew patrolling our route in the same looping manner, I would smile each time thinking of my own safety crew back home.
Above all, Zak holds a vital role in my 3Day memories. He made it possible for me to complete all 60 miles of the most physically demanding 3Day I have walked yet. Each event has had it’s own challenges and demands; but the most intense for me was the Boston 3Day of 2002. As any New Englander will tell you about our spring weather: anything goes – and that weekend it sure did.
Day One was a perfect, sunny, clear day around 70 degrees with a slight breeze. I walked most of that day with Matt, celebrating our “walkaversary”. It had been one year since we had met on the 3Day. A lot had happened in that year and I was so grateful to have him along as my walking partner, and rapidly moving towards being the life partner that he is today.
We had a perfect day for walking, and at the end of our day relaxed on the lawn outside the dinner tent playing cards with some other walkers. At dinner that night the announcements included a weather forecast that sounded a bit threatening. Rain was coming in and was expected for all of Saturday. They advised covering our tents with extra layers of plastic and to be prepared for a wet walk.
I made a phone call to my ex-husband, Mike. Our hometown is about 2 hours west of the route planned for Day Two and he had offered to bring our kids eastward to cheer along the walk route. I was really looking forward to seeing them among the cheerleaders. I called to see if the forecast might be impacting his/their plans. He laughed and told me that since they could sit in a dry car and we’d be the ones walking in the rain all day, he didn’t see any reason for their plans to change. I was happy to hear it and reflected on how fortunate our kids are that we have been able to be friends in the wake of the end of our marriage.
The rains whipped in during the night and by morning, it was pouring in earnest. Back in those days, walkers packed every thing up each day to have our tents and personal belongings moved to the next ‘tent city’ site. We dressed in everything we could, packed up our stuff and our tent and headed out for the day. Less than an hour into the walk, Matt’s wimpy windbreaker was failing and the temperatures were dropping. I called Mike again to check in about his plans with the kids. He confirmed that their plans were the same and that they were on the way. I asked him to bring a raincoat for Matt to borrow and he agreed. We kept on walking. It continued to rain and the temperature continued to drop.
It was getting cold for May, but as long as we were moving, it seemed okay. There were a lot of walkers dropping out from the cold. I called Mike again. He said, “You’re still walking? It’s snowing here on our drive!” I was shocked at the thought of snow in May, glad that it was just cold rain for us. And then just minutes later the sleet started. I could continue to share all the details of that morning’s walk, but you get the point. My brand new gore-tex raincoat was soaked through, stuck to my icy skin. When we stopped for a lunch break, I changed from old wet socks to fresh wet socks, huddled in the shelter of a high school’s doorway overhang. The 3Day offered warm buses and options to get dry and head back to camp. But we were stubborn and determined to keep walking. Looking back, Matt and I have reflected that it was unwise for us to keep walking. We were cold and wet and not making the clearest decisions. But we also determined to finish what we had come to start. At the most difficult points in that day, I couldn’t help but think of Mary Kaye, and think of all the times that she didn’t have a choice about when to give up. If she could keep fighting to survive, surely I could walk through one cold wet day.
Just at the point when I was so cold each step hurt, Mike called to say that he thought they were close. I could hear my son exclaim, “Look at all those porta-potties!” We conferred on directions and they were pulling up alongside us minutes later. I don’t usually use my cell phone on the route, but that one time I was certainly grateful to have it along. We ran up to the car and opened the door to greet them, and to get the raincoat that I’d asked Mike to bring for Matt. What a surprise we had! Mike is an outdoorsman, and had brought piles of gear for us to change. We jumped into the back of his small wagon into what looked like most of the inventory from a closeout sale at Outdoor Adventureland. There were dry sweatpants for Matt and big yellow, fisherman style pants and jackets for each of us. The kids cheered us on as we struggled to change in the back of the car. I had to stay in the wet pants I’d been walking in, but everything else for both of us was changed into dry stuff. Hugs were exchanged all around and we asked Mike to drive onto the next rest stop to check in on us before he and the kids turned back towards home.
So on we walked. It felt better, but I was still shivering. The pants I was wearing were drenched to my skin under the yellow rain pants. I was icy cold. I was disheartened that we had made it this far and that we might still have to give in to the elements. Mary Kaye wouldn’t give up, I thought. We approached the rest stop, and I ran over to the car. I looked at my son, the only person close to my size…”Please?” I asked him, “Please can I have your pants?”
I’d love to tell you that it was a Lifetime Movie Special Moment. I’d love to say that his eyes lit up and he rejoiced in his chance to help me. More like, he reluctantly relented. But he handed over the prize of his dry pants and I was able to change out of that icy layer. Dry and warmer now, I hugged my boy and thanked him. I told him that he had given me the one thing I needed most to be able to complete my day. Embarrassed by his pantlessness, he smiled with a new understanding. “You’re welcome Mom. I’m glad to do what I can.”
Warm and dry, we continued to walk. The whole mood of the day changed for us from that moment. We were strong again, and could laugh and share our story with the other walkers who had survived into this second half of a very long day. The sun even came out in the afternoon and we walked into camp (indoors that night) feeling victorious. We talk about that day often over the years. If not for the support of my family, I never would have finished walking that day. I might even have succumbed to the hypothermia that threatened me at lunchtime. If not for my son’s supportive gesture, I would have a different story to tell about my own survivor-day.
There was a moment of connection for my son and I that day. It might not seem like a big deal, but for a 12-year old about to sit pants-less for two hours in a car with his dad and his little sister, loaning me his pants was a very big deal. Zak gave up something he really didn’t want to because he knew I needed it more than he did. And in the years between then and now, I have known that I can count on him for that level of support. I can ask him for anything and he will give me what I need. He is just that kind of person. He gives of himself freely and often no questions asked. People can count on him. I don’t think he’s ever had to hand anyone his pants since then, but I know he would if he needed to.
I trust that every time I look at my beautiful new tattoo that years of 3Day memories will scroll through my thoughts. At the top of that scroll will be the look in my son’s eyes when I thanked him for helping me survive my walk. May we all have that kind of opportunity to recognize it when we have helped another person.
The decision to get my tattoo at the same time that Zak was getting his first started out just as a mom being there for and with her son. I’d been thinking for a few years of getting this design in ink and when he started talking about getting a tattoo, it seemed like good timing. Funny thing is, I didn’t realize until we were there how perfect it was to have him along for this particular declaration. As we shared the tattoo party, I reflected on my son’s connection to my 3Day experiences.
Zak was part of my journey to The3Day from the very start. My first walk was dedicated to my friend Mary Kaye, who was battling breast cancer in the wake of having lost her husband to pancreatic cancer just a year before her own diagnosis. My friendship with Mary Kaye was really borne of our boys’ friendship with one another. If not for the persistence of my son and hers in their need to stay connected it’s possible that Mary Kaye and I might have missed the chance to be in one another’s lives in a deep and meaningful way. If not for Zak and R’s friendship, it’s probable that Mar and I would have only been once-in-awhile friends. So because of his role in the start of that friendship, Zak was a part of my 3Day journey from before it even began.
When I started training for my first walk, I was unprepared for the amount of hours that one must dedicate to walking. My son quickly turned the training from a chore into a pleasure by joining me on our local bike path. He’d ride his bike for miles up and down the path cycling past me, then riding alongside me then falling behind me. And then he would start all over again. He could have been out with his friends; he could have been home playing games. But instead, my 11-year old boy was keeping me company and cheering me on so I could train. When I hit the streets on my first 3Day event and saw the bike safety crew patrolling our route in the same looping manner, I would smile each time thinking of my own safety crew back home.
Above all, Zak holds a vital role in my 3Day memories. He made it possible for me to complete all 60 miles of the most physically demanding 3Day I have walked yet. Each event has had it’s own challenges and demands; but the most intense for me was the Boston 3Day of 2002. As any New Englander will tell you about our spring weather: anything goes – and that weekend it sure did.
Day One was a perfect, sunny, clear day around 70 degrees with a slight breeze. I walked most of that day with Matt, celebrating our “walkaversary”. It had been one year since we had met on the 3Day. A lot had happened in that year and I was so grateful to have him along as my walking partner, and rapidly moving towards being the life partner that he is today.
We had a perfect day for walking, and at the end of our day relaxed on the lawn outside the dinner tent playing cards with some other walkers. At dinner that night the announcements included a weather forecast that sounded a bit threatening. Rain was coming in and was expected for all of Saturday. They advised covering our tents with extra layers of plastic and to be prepared for a wet walk.
I made a phone call to my ex-husband, Mike. Our hometown is about 2 hours west of the route planned for Day Two and he had offered to bring our kids eastward to cheer along the walk route. I was really looking forward to seeing them among the cheerleaders. I called to see if the forecast might be impacting his/their plans. He laughed and told me that since they could sit in a dry car and we’d be the ones walking in the rain all day, he didn’t see any reason for their plans to change. I was happy to hear it and reflected on how fortunate our kids are that we have been able to be friends in the wake of the end of our marriage.
The rains whipped in during the night and by morning, it was pouring in earnest. Back in those days, walkers packed every thing up each day to have our tents and personal belongings moved to the next ‘tent city’ site. We dressed in everything we could, packed up our stuff and our tent and headed out for the day. Less than an hour into the walk, Matt’s wimpy windbreaker was failing and the temperatures were dropping. I called Mike again to check in about his plans with the kids. He confirmed that their plans were the same and that they were on the way. I asked him to bring a raincoat for Matt to borrow and he agreed. We kept on walking. It continued to rain and the temperature continued to drop.
It was getting cold for May, but as long as we were moving, it seemed okay. There were a lot of walkers dropping out from the cold. I called Mike again. He said, “You’re still walking? It’s snowing here on our drive!” I was shocked at the thought of snow in May, glad that it was just cold rain for us. And then just minutes later the sleet started. I could continue to share all the details of that morning’s walk, but you get the point. My brand new gore-tex raincoat was soaked through, stuck to my icy skin. When we stopped for a lunch break, I changed from old wet socks to fresh wet socks, huddled in the shelter of a high school’s doorway overhang. The 3Day offered warm buses and options to get dry and head back to camp. But we were stubborn and determined to keep walking. Looking back, Matt and I have reflected that it was unwise for us to keep walking. We were cold and wet and not making the clearest decisions. But we also determined to finish what we had come to start. At the most difficult points in that day, I couldn’t help but think of Mary Kaye, and think of all the times that she didn’t have a choice about when to give up. If she could keep fighting to survive, surely I could walk through one cold wet day.
Just at the point when I was so cold each step hurt, Mike called to say that he thought they were close. I could hear my son exclaim, “Look at all those porta-potties!” We conferred on directions and they were pulling up alongside us minutes later. I don’t usually use my cell phone on the route, but that one time I was certainly grateful to have it along. We ran up to the car and opened the door to greet them, and to get the raincoat that I’d asked Mike to bring for Matt. What a surprise we had! Mike is an outdoorsman, and had brought piles of gear for us to change. We jumped into the back of his small wagon into what looked like most of the inventory from a closeout sale at Outdoor Adventureland. There were dry sweatpants for Matt and big yellow, fisherman style pants and jackets for each of us. The kids cheered us on as we struggled to change in the back of the car. I had to stay in the wet pants I’d been walking in, but everything else for both of us was changed into dry stuff. Hugs were exchanged all around and we asked Mike to drive onto the next rest stop to check in on us before he and the kids turned back towards home.
So on we walked. It felt better, but I was still shivering. The pants I was wearing were drenched to my skin under the yellow rain pants. I was icy cold. I was disheartened that we had made it this far and that we might still have to give in to the elements. Mary Kaye wouldn’t give up, I thought. We approached the rest stop, and I ran over to the car. I looked at my son, the only person close to my size…”Please?” I asked him, “Please can I have your pants?”
I’d love to tell you that it was a Lifetime Movie Special Moment. I’d love to say that his eyes lit up and he rejoiced in his chance to help me. More like, he reluctantly relented. But he handed over the prize of his dry pants and I was able to change out of that icy layer. Dry and warmer now, I hugged my boy and thanked him. I told him that he had given me the one thing I needed most to be able to complete my day. Embarrassed by his pantlessness, he smiled with a new understanding. “You’re welcome Mom. I’m glad to do what I can.”
Warm and dry, we continued to walk. The whole mood of the day changed for us from that moment. We were strong again, and could laugh and share our story with the other walkers who had survived into this second half of a very long day. The sun even came out in the afternoon and we walked into camp (indoors that night) feeling victorious. We talk about that day often over the years. If not for the support of my family, I never would have finished walking that day. I might even have succumbed to the hypothermia that threatened me at lunchtime. If not for my son’s supportive gesture, I would have a different story to tell about my own survivor-day.
There was a moment of connection for my son and I that day. It might not seem like a big deal, but for a 12-year old about to sit pants-less for two hours in a car with his dad and his little sister, loaning me his pants was a very big deal. Zak gave up something he really didn’t want to because he knew I needed it more than he did. And in the years between then and now, I have known that I can count on him for that level of support. I can ask him for anything and he will give me what I need. He is just that kind of person. He gives of himself freely and often no questions asked. People can count on him. I don’t think he’s ever had to hand anyone his pants since then, but I know he would if he needed to.
I trust that every time I look at my beautiful new tattoo that years of 3Day memories will scroll through my thoughts. At the top of that scroll will be the look in my son’s eyes when I thanked him for helping me survive my walk. May we all have that kind of opportunity to recognize it when we have helped another person.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Humankind. Be both.
Recently a co-worker approached me because she has been thinking about doing her first 3Day this summer. She'd heard from another co-worker that I had “been involved in a few events” and she hoped that I would tell her more about it. I warned her that once I start talking about the 3Day, it might be hard to get me to stop. There are so many stories to tell and so much to say about what the event has meant to me.
She started in, as so many people do, asking about technical details:
- Do you set up your own tent?
- How do you raise all that money?
- Where does your stuff go while you walk?
- How many pairs of sneakers will I need?
I stopped her after just a few questions to explain that she can get all those answers and many more from the very detailed and very well thought-out 3Day website. I assured her that she would have more support than she could imagine from the 3Day itself as well as from other walkers, and on event from the Crew. I didn’t mind answering those questions, but I really felt that I had something more that I could give her.
I proceeded to tell her about my first walk. I wanted her to hear about that walk because it changed my life. In reality, each of the fourteen 3Day walks that I have done has affected me. They have shaped me and helped me to grow in a myriad of ways. But my first walk, in Boston in 2001, changed my vision of the world and my own role in it.
I decided to take that first 60-mile walk to honor my friend Mary Kay as she was wrapping up what we prayed would be her last treatment phase. I was driving to the Jersey shore every few weeks to be with her during chemo to help with her kids and just to be with her. I was focusing on her needs, but had begun ignoring my own. When I became committed to Mar’s care cycle, I dropped my own exercise routine. I was lamenting about that loss of balance to a friend one day as we walked into a store together. There, as we walked in the door, was a life-size cutout of two women, powerfully striding across an unseen finish line. The caption read:
“The 3Day Walk for Breast Cancer. Do something bigger than yourself.”
I am not generally a believer in signs. But hey, that was definitely a sign. I registered the next day and immediately started training and fundraising. Three months later, on May 17, 2001, I headed east to Leominster, MA. These days, walkers and crew take care of all the technical stuff in cyber land. We register online, fundraise online, get our tent assignments online, and watch safety videos online as well. But in 2001, the internets were still pretty young. Back then, all that stuff happened at a big in-person gathering of walkers that was referred to as “Day Zero”. A lot of stuff happened at the carnival of Day Zero. Everyone waited in lots of lines and began building a community. I met a man that day – another walker – with whom I have now walked and crewed for 9 years. I actually married that walker 4 years ago. I suppose you might think that’s what made my first walk so life-changing. It certainly is one way that my life changed because of that first walk. But the walk itself changed who I was and what I believed in.
That change began at Day Zero when I watched the required “safety video”. They called it a safety video because it contained all the important rules of the walking road, but it was about way more than just our safety. It was also an inspirational video. The intent of that video was to remind of us the ways that we each could build a spirit of community. Those twenty minutes were filled with examples of the ways that we could take care of one another on the event. Helping another walker set up their tent at the end of a long day was an opportunity for kindness. We could take an extra minute to hold a door open. We could show kindness by simply picking something up for someone too tired to do so him/herself. We could always find someone who needed us. The message was powerful that we had a unique opportunity in these three days to build a community of kindness and caring.
That 20-minute video shaped my weekend. I embraced the vision of kindness and I was embraced by it. For those three days, I helped to build a community of kindness. For those three days, every person really felt that s/he could make a difference in the world. We touched one another by setting up tents or by walking across a field to bring water to someone whose blister was just ‘too much’. We created a world of hope and strength simply by being kind.
Before my three days started, I was confident that I was making a difference in the fight against breast cancer with the money I had helped to raise. And I knew that I would be making a difference with the awareness that our army of walkers would raise as we walked through the communities of Massachusetts. But by the end of those three days, I had learned a lesson about making a difference that has become part of who I am. I learned that being kind is what it takes to create a community. I recharge that personal vision every time I return to the community of a 3Day event. Those events are an amazing experience in being engulfed in a community of people who have learned that kindness and giving really can make a difference. We, the walkers and crew of The3Day, have learned that finding ways to give to other people is the best way to live. When you see how simple it is to make a difference in another person’s day, you begin to realize that you really can make a difference in the world.
It isn’t always easy to translate the kindness of The3Day into the “real world” but do I try every day. Being kind can change the world. I can change the world.
I really can do something bigger than myself. And so can you.
She started in, as so many people do, asking about technical details:
- Do you set up your own tent?
- How do you raise all that money?
- Where does your stuff go while you walk?
- How many pairs of sneakers will I need?
I stopped her after just a few questions to explain that she can get all those answers and many more from the very detailed and very well thought-out 3Day website. I assured her that she would have more support than she could imagine from the 3Day itself as well as from other walkers, and on event from the Crew. I didn’t mind answering those questions, but I really felt that I had something more that I could give her.
I proceeded to tell her about my first walk. I wanted her to hear about that walk because it changed my life. In reality, each of the fourteen 3Day walks that I have done has affected me. They have shaped me and helped me to grow in a myriad of ways. But my first walk, in Boston in 2001, changed my vision of the world and my own role in it.
I decided to take that first 60-mile walk to honor my friend Mary Kay as she was wrapping up what we prayed would be her last treatment phase. I was driving to the Jersey shore every few weeks to be with her during chemo to help with her kids and just to be with her. I was focusing on her needs, but had begun ignoring my own. When I became committed to Mar’s care cycle, I dropped my own exercise routine. I was lamenting about that loss of balance to a friend one day as we walked into a store together. There, as we walked in the door, was a life-size cutout of two women, powerfully striding across an unseen finish line. The caption read:
“The 3Day Walk for Breast Cancer. Do something bigger than yourself.”
I am not generally a believer in signs. But hey, that was definitely a sign. I registered the next day and immediately started training and fundraising. Three months later, on May 17, 2001, I headed east to Leominster, MA. These days, walkers and crew take care of all the technical stuff in cyber land. We register online, fundraise online, get our tent assignments online, and watch safety videos online as well. But in 2001, the internets were still pretty young. Back then, all that stuff happened at a big in-person gathering of walkers that was referred to as “Day Zero”. A lot of stuff happened at the carnival of Day Zero. Everyone waited in lots of lines and began building a community. I met a man that day – another walker – with whom I have now walked and crewed for 9 years. I actually married that walker 4 years ago. I suppose you might think that’s what made my first walk so life-changing. It certainly is one way that my life changed because of that first walk. But the walk itself changed who I was and what I believed in.
That change began at Day Zero when I watched the required “safety video”. They called it a safety video because it contained all the important rules of the walking road, but it was about way more than just our safety. It was also an inspirational video. The intent of that video was to remind of us the ways that we each could build a spirit of community. Those twenty minutes were filled with examples of the ways that we could take care of one another on the event. Helping another walker set up their tent at the end of a long day was an opportunity for kindness. We could take an extra minute to hold a door open. We could show kindness by simply picking something up for someone too tired to do so him/herself. We could always find someone who needed us. The message was powerful that we had a unique opportunity in these three days to build a community of kindness and caring.
That 20-minute video shaped my weekend. I embraced the vision of kindness and I was embraced by it. For those three days, I helped to build a community of kindness. For those three days, every person really felt that s/he could make a difference in the world. We touched one another by setting up tents or by walking across a field to bring water to someone whose blister was just ‘too much’. We created a world of hope and strength simply by being kind.
Before my three days started, I was confident that I was making a difference in the fight against breast cancer with the money I had helped to raise. And I knew that I would be making a difference with the awareness that our army of walkers would raise as we walked through the communities of Massachusetts. But by the end of those three days, I had learned a lesson about making a difference that has become part of who I am. I learned that being kind is what it takes to create a community. I recharge that personal vision every time I return to the community of a 3Day event. Those events are an amazing experience in being engulfed in a community of people who have learned that kindness and giving really can make a difference. We, the walkers and crew of The3Day, have learned that finding ways to give to other people is the best way to live. When you see how simple it is to make a difference in another person’s day, you begin to realize that you really can make a difference in the world.
It isn’t always easy to translate the kindness of The3Day into the “real world” but do I try every day. Being kind can change the world. I can change the world.
I really can do something bigger than myself. And so can you.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
The World Needs More Cheerleaders
On Saturday, I skipped a weekend training walk. Instead, I sat on the bleachers in a local gym for about 6 hours watching cheerleaders cheer. Seriously. My daughter is a cheerleader and her team was participating in the Western Mass Invitational Tournament. It was held in a high school gym that was packed with more shades of school spirit than I have ever experienced.
Let me be perfectly clear about something: I was never a cheerleader. I actually avoided being present at events at which there were cheerleaders. And when my daughter announced that she wanted to become a cheerleader, I was startled. I’m a bit of a feminist. I didn’t shave my legs in high school and I was politically active before I could even vote. And I didn’t have any friends who were cheerleaders. They were too cool and I was too…not. Based on my experience of cheerleaders in high school and my perception of who/what they are culturally, I was shaken that my daughter wanted to be “one of them”. My perception was that cheerleaders were ditzy, mean-girls, who walked through their lives worrying about how to be popular, and not about much else. This didn’t jive with my understanding of my very bright, academically elite, sweet and friendly daughter. It worried me that this was what she wanted to become. But when your child wants to do something in her life, you support her. At least that’s the way I live my life. And she wanted to be a cheerleader, so I put my heart into supporting her as a cheerleader.
I have now sat through more school events in the past 4 years than I had in my entire life leading up to this point. Over time, I have learned a great deal about cheerleaders. Some of them are ditzy, but more of them are really smart and care a lot about their grades. Some of them are mean girls, but more of them are very sweet and thoughtful. Some of them care a lot about being popular, but more of them are just average kids with some very good friends.
And each of them, every cheerleader I have seen, is a true athlete, who works very hard, and is dedicated to cheering on and up the people she (or he) interacts with.
I had a real revelation yesterday watching the cheerleaders at the Regional Competition. I was sitting in the bleachers, experiencing a sense of pride reflecting on how hard our school’s team had worked to get ready for this. I was watching all the teams of girls (and a few boys) cheering their loudest for one another, and I was thinking about how far I had come in my own understanding of what it means to be a cheerleader. And then it dawned on me that I actually had come to love and understand cheerleaders years before my daughter had ever decided to become one.
I really started to love cheerleaders on my first 3Day Walk for Breast Cancer. Cheering is a crucial aspect to The3Day Walk. On every corner is another smiling face waiting to cheer the walkers forward. There are groups of families who spend the whole weekend stalking the walkers, seeking opportunities to thank them (us) for walking. Cheerleaders on the walk come in all genders, all shapes, and all sizes. There are loud cheerleaders chasing the walkers with shouts of praise and heartwarming chants. There are quiet cheerleaders who silently stand their ground and let the sign they hold say it all with words like “Thank you for walking with love from a 10-year survivor.” There are friendly cheerleaders who engage walkers in chat to help pass a difficult hill. There are old cheerleaders and young ones. The important thing is that every step of those 3 Days, there are people poised to cheer the walkers on.
Even though I had trained very hard for my first walk, I had a difficult time with knee pain. On the second day, I walked through miles of excruciating pain on an intensely swollen knee. Each time that I thought I might be close to giving up, there would be another cheerleader with kind words expressing their faith in me. Those cheerleaders gave me strength and kept me going.
Here’s the important thing I have realized about cheerleaders:
When you are in pain or fearful that you are not going to do something as well as you hope, you really deserve to have someone cheering for you. We all do, whether we are walking 60 miles, playing basketball or just trying to do our best at school or jobs. A little “woo-hoo” really goes a long way.
Let me be perfectly clear about something: I was never a cheerleader. I actually avoided being present at events at which there were cheerleaders. And when my daughter announced that she wanted to become a cheerleader, I was startled. I’m a bit of a feminist. I didn’t shave my legs in high school and I was politically active before I could even vote. And I didn’t have any friends who were cheerleaders. They were too cool and I was too…not. Based on my experience of cheerleaders in high school and my perception of who/what they are culturally, I was shaken that my daughter wanted to be “one of them”. My perception was that cheerleaders were ditzy, mean-girls, who walked through their lives worrying about how to be popular, and not about much else. This didn’t jive with my understanding of my very bright, academically elite, sweet and friendly daughter. It worried me that this was what she wanted to become. But when your child wants to do something in her life, you support her. At least that’s the way I live my life. And she wanted to be a cheerleader, so I put my heart into supporting her as a cheerleader.
I have now sat through more school events in the past 4 years than I had in my entire life leading up to this point. Over time, I have learned a great deal about cheerleaders. Some of them are ditzy, but more of them are really smart and care a lot about their grades. Some of them are mean girls, but more of them are very sweet and thoughtful. Some of them care a lot about being popular, but more of them are just average kids with some very good friends.
And each of them, every cheerleader I have seen, is a true athlete, who works very hard, and is dedicated to cheering on and up the people she (or he) interacts with.
I had a real revelation yesterday watching the cheerleaders at the Regional Competition. I was sitting in the bleachers, experiencing a sense of pride reflecting on how hard our school’s team had worked to get ready for this. I was watching all the teams of girls (and a few boys) cheering their loudest for one another, and I was thinking about how far I had come in my own understanding of what it means to be a cheerleader. And then it dawned on me that I actually had come to love and understand cheerleaders years before my daughter had ever decided to become one.
I really started to love cheerleaders on my first 3Day Walk for Breast Cancer. Cheering is a crucial aspect to The3Day Walk. On every corner is another smiling face waiting to cheer the walkers forward. There are groups of families who spend the whole weekend stalking the walkers, seeking opportunities to thank them (us) for walking. Cheerleaders on the walk come in all genders, all shapes, and all sizes. There are loud cheerleaders chasing the walkers with shouts of praise and heartwarming chants. There are quiet cheerleaders who silently stand their ground and let the sign they hold say it all with words like “Thank you for walking with love from a 10-year survivor.” There are friendly cheerleaders who engage walkers in chat to help pass a difficult hill. There are old cheerleaders and young ones. The important thing is that every step of those 3 Days, there are people poised to cheer the walkers on.
Even though I had trained very hard for my first walk, I had a difficult time with knee pain. On the second day, I walked through miles of excruciating pain on an intensely swollen knee. Each time that I thought I might be close to giving up, there would be another cheerleader with kind words expressing their faith in me. Those cheerleaders gave me strength and kept me going.
Here’s the important thing I have realized about cheerleaders:
When you are in pain or fearful that you are not going to do something as well as you hope, you really deserve to have someone cheering for you. We all do, whether we are walking 60 miles, playing basketball or just trying to do our best at school or jobs. A little “woo-hoo” really goes a long way.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Lessons of the Snow Day
Today we had a snow day.
As a kid snow days had a magic all their own. In the New Jersey town I grew up in, there was a town-wide alert for snow days. When there was questionable weather, we would listen at 7:05 to hear whether the alert whistle would blow to inform us that a snow day had been declared. For kids poised between their PJs and getting dressed for the day, that sound was a signal to offer up our own whistle of glee. Mother Nature had dumped a gift of a day into our laps. At that age, there really was no connection to the long-term issue of having to give back that day in June. All that mattered was that suddenly our vision of the day had changed. Instead of dressing for school and flustering out the door into our regimented day, we could lazily stretch into an unexplored day. We could bundle into jackets and layers, find sleds and friends and create a winter wonderland. Or we could watch cartoons all day. There might be a play-date with friends or baking cookies with grandmothers. The magic of a snow day was the big promising stretch of the unknown. The magic was the opportunity to not know what was next and to enjoy whatever it turned out to be.
Snow days now are still magical. My partner is a teacher and I have a flexible work place so a snow day usually means a bonus day off together that we hadn’t expected. Although there are always chores to do and usually mountains of ice or snow to move around, the day is still a special treat. And even though a day off in February will mean an extra day of work in June, the day we get to have is a chance to be very present in life, and remind ourselves to just be here now.
Trying to learn to embrace the moment is something I have struggled with for years. I am one of those people who would prefer to be in control of every moment. I don’t exactly overplan but I do like to plan very thoroughly. But I have tried to change that about myself. After losing Mary Kay to breast cancer, I recognized that I needed to learn to appreciate the moments I was having rather than planning for the moments I was going to have. Life really is too short to be thinking about the next moment instead of living in the current one. What if something comes along and takes away your next moment? Maybe it’ll be breast cancer that steals away your next moment. Or maybe it’ll be a bus. Or maybe you’ll miss a bus and simply miss the next thing on your schedule. Missing the next big moment or the next small one is frustrating if you are dedicated to the plan instead of the moments. I want to try to fully embrace the moments as they happen.
One of the things that I appreciate most about The3Day Walks is the way that the event forces me to live in the moment. I confess that, even 9 years into it, I do spend weeks planning what to pack, how to pack, how we’ll get there and so on. And that is after months of planning our fundraisers and letter-writing. And that is after totally planning which city to walk in and which city to crew in. After all, I didn’t say that I have totally conquered the “In The Moment” concept, just that I am working on it!
But on the walk itself, there I really can Be Here Now. Walking 20 miles a day, I really don’t have time or energy for anything other than the path directly in front of me. I have the time to focus on and really talk to the person walking next to me. Hopefully, I will talk to her or him for hours because they have a story to tell and something to teach me. When the day gets long and my feet are worn out, I am simply there in that moment. And when I walk into camp at the end of that long day and am greeted by enthusiastic cheering crew and fellow walkers, I am right there, in that one moment. Where else could I possibly want to be?
This morning, when the cyber snow day whistle sounded its alarm announcing a bonus day off, I could have startled into a planning frenzy. I could have worried about whether the laundry would get done and what this winter day off was going to do to our summer plans. Instead, I rolled over and lazily stretched into an unknown day of being with and celebrating my family. Right here, in this moment. Thank you, 3Day, for that lesson.
As a kid snow days had a magic all their own. In the New Jersey town I grew up in, there was a town-wide alert for snow days. When there was questionable weather, we would listen at 7:05 to hear whether the alert whistle would blow to inform us that a snow day had been declared. For kids poised between their PJs and getting dressed for the day, that sound was a signal to offer up our own whistle of glee. Mother Nature had dumped a gift of a day into our laps. At that age, there really was no connection to the long-term issue of having to give back that day in June. All that mattered was that suddenly our vision of the day had changed. Instead of dressing for school and flustering out the door into our regimented day, we could lazily stretch into an unexplored day. We could bundle into jackets and layers, find sleds and friends and create a winter wonderland. Or we could watch cartoons all day. There might be a play-date with friends or baking cookies with grandmothers. The magic of a snow day was the big promising stretch of the unknown. The magic was the opportunity to not know what was next and to enjoy whatever it turned out to be.
Snow days now are still magical. My partner is a teacher and I have a flexible work place so a snow day usually means a bonus day off together that we hadn’t expected. Although there are always chores to do and usually mountains of ice or snow to move around, the day is still a special treat. And even though a day off in February will mean an extra day of work in June, the day we get to have is a chance to be very present in life, and remind ourselves to just be here now.
Trying to learn to embrace the moment is something I have struggled with for years. I am one of those people who would prefer to be in control of every moment. I don’t exactly overplan but I do like to plan very thoroughly. But I have tried to change that about myself. After losing Mary Kay to breast cancer, I recognized that I needed to learn to appreciate the moments I was having rather than planning for the moments I was going to have. Life really is too short to be thinking about the next moment instead of living in the current one. What if something comes along and takes away your next moment? Maybe it’ll be breast cancer that steals away your next moment. Or maybe it’ll be a bus. Or maybe you’ll miss a bus and simply miss the next thing on your schedule. Missing the next big moment or the next small one is frustrating if you are dedicated to the plan instead of the moments. I want to try to fully embrace the moments as they happen.
One of the things that I appreciate most about The3Day Walks is the way that the event forces me to live in the moment. I confess that, even 9 years into it, I do spend weeks planning what to pack, how to pack, how we’ll get there and so on. And that is after months of planning our fundraisers and letter-writing. And that is after totally planning which city to walk in and which city to crew in. After all, I didn’t say that I have totally conquered the “In The Moment” concept, just that I am working on it!
But on the walk itself, there I really can Be Here Now. Walking 20 miles a day, I really don’t have time or energy for anything other than the path directly in front of me. I have the time to focus on and really talk to the person walking next to me. Hopefully, I will talk to her or him for hours because they have a story to tell and something to teach me. When the day gets long and my feet are worn out, I am simply there in that moment. And when I walk into camp at the end of that long day and am greeted by enthusiastic cheering crew and fellow walkers, I am right there, in that one moment. Where else could I possibly want to be?
This morning, when the cyber snow day whistle sounded its alarm announcing a bonus day off, I could have startled into a planning frenzy. I could have worried about whether the laundry would get done and what this winter day off was going to do to our summer plans. Instead, I rolled over and lazily stretched into an unknown day of being with and celebrating my family. Right here, in this moment. Thank you, 3Day, for that lesson.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
What It Means to Not Walk
Two days in a row of not walking due to weather, work and a sore back has produced a serious frustration within me when I sit down to write. The bottom line is that I don’t want to write about not walking. Are there thoughts that I can share and express about what it means to NOT walk?
I have not walked before. I learned a lot from the experience of not walking.
In October 2009, Matt and I drove to Philadelphia for The3Day Walk, and didn’t walk.
It was our 15th 3Day Walk (it was actually his 16th). We had trained plenty and raised over $6000. We know our way around The3Day experience, and it is a vital and central part of our lives. Although we had already crewed in Chicago in August, walking each year is very important to us.
WELL! What a roller coaster of a weekend it was. Not at all what we expected. I returned home to Massachusetts late Wednesday night from a business trip. We spent hours trying to get repacked for the Walk, knowing that the weather geeks were predicting wet and cold all weekend. We drove to Philly Thursday evening. The driving was awful, starting with sleety snow in Massachusetts. A drive that usually takes us 4 1/2 hours took almost 8! We arrived at our friends’ home in Philly at almost 10, visited and reviewed our plans for them to drop us at opening ceremonies the next morning. Just before bed, we checked online to discuss with them the exact timing for the 3Days only to discover that major announcements had been made. Due to the weather conditions, the organizers of the event had determined that the event would be held on Sunday only as a 1Day event. Our hearts crashed into our stomachs and we tried to decide what this meant for us. After a sleepless night, we got in touch with a fellow walker local to the area and decided to join her (and about 300 other clad-in-pink walkers) at a local mall for an indoors Day One Walk. We decided that we would walk at the mall for Day One/Friday and then drive home and recapture the gift of a free weekend. I was scheduled to be out town for most of the coming month and we decided that a weekend at home would do us some good after all. It was a lot of fun walking in the King of Prussia Mall, although it certainly didn't compare to a regular 3Day walk. We spent the day walking the mall, cheered with and for all the other mall-walkers. Then we hugged our friend Jane and headed home.
The drive home that evening was uneventful, although we took turns lamenting our sadness at the loss of the walk. It felt surreal to be driving home without having had our walk.
And then, we woke up Saturday and I felt simply bereft at the loss. Homesick is the only way to describe it. After some discussion, we decided that as crazy as it was, we would drive back so that we could walk the organized 1Day event on Sunday. Back in the car we went. Crazy? Yes. But the minute we were back in the car headed back towards the 3Day, I felt better. We drove to the home of our friend and fellow-walker, had a late dinner with her and her husband, cemented that growing friendship, got up on Sunday and walked our 15-mile 1Day event. That 1Day was just like a 3Day in terms of people cheering and a sense of community gathered around a vital cause, but it wasn't the same as a "real" 3Day.
But in many ways, there was lot more for me to learn from living through that kind of disappointment and reconciliation. In the end, I think I grew more from the walk that I did have than I would have from the walk I was planning on taking that weekend.
I hadn’t planned on driving more hours than walking that weekend. I hadn’t planned on training for months to take a walk that didn’t challenge my body. I hadn’t planned on making choices that weekend about what to eat. I hadn’t planned for any of what happened.
But the walk that I didn’t take can remind me how important it was for all of us to experience that sort of adrift, unfettered, unplanned moment. When my friend Mary Kay was diagnosed with breast cancer 9 months after losing her husband, it definitely was not what she had planned. When my friend Diane was told that her cancer had come back after 10 years, it wasn’t what she had planned. When my friend T’s 26 year-old daughter was diagnosed, it wasn’t what she had planned.
Who plans on leaving their teenagers orphaned? Who plans on shifting from planning her retirement to planning chemo treatment schedules? Who plans on helping her daughter recover from a bilateral mastectomy two weeks after her wedding? Really now, who plans on getting breast cancer?
You really can’t plan everything in life. I didn’t plan a weekend of not walking, but I can be grateful for the weekend I did have.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Vacation's End
It is the end of vacation in our home. With a high-school student and a middle school teacher comprising two-thirds of our home, school vacations define the ebb and flow of our lives. I am fortunate enough to have the flexibility in my job to take my vacations when they have vacations. Although I did have some hours of work to finish up during the week, it was still vacation. I still slept late every day, and we went for a walk in the middle of the afternoon every day. And it was relaxing.
And then yesterday, it suddenly dawned on all three of us at the same moment that our vacation was about to end. Isn’t it strange how Saturday morning can be the most amazing stretch of glorious possibilities when it signals the start of your weekend; and yet can feel like the abysmal end of the world when it dawns your vacation is almost over?
Saturday dawned with a backache for me, and a vacation-is-almost-over hole in the heart of my partner. We were feeling all kinds of self-pity, stuck-in-the-house blahs, when I read the Tweet of a friend:
If misery loves company, it also responds to an inspiring kick-in-the-butt. And so we picked our sorry selves up from our sad sack palace of wallowing and headed out into the daylight. A walk in the woods was definitely called for. We headed to a part of the bike path that we had first explored last spring and trekked through six miles of brilliant winter sunshine! We walked through the local park and alongside a river, stopping to admire crests of ice caked around a waterfall. It was a magnificent day for a walk.
It would have been so easy to stay on the couch, buried in the anger and sadness that our vacation was over. But it turned out to be just as easy – and a whole lot more rewarding – to celebrate what a great vacation it has been by continuing the vacation feeling for as long as possible. It is easy to feel sorry for yourself when life gets difficult or sad or scary. But it is important to remember that we are in control of how we feel about our lives. We can be sad and scared; or we can get out, find the sunshine and look for something special in our days.
Thursday, February 18, 2010
One Foot in Front of the Other
I am determined that we are going to train at least 10 miles every week in February. Given that self-made promise, our only walking time option in a busy vacation-week schedule today was to walk first thing in the morning.
In the summer we often start our walk at dawn. In the warm months, walking early in the day means that we will be walking at the “bunny time of day” when we are sure to see critters enjoying the world before things heat up too much.
But walking first thing in the morning this time of year means intentionally deciding to walk while the temps are guaranteed to be below freezing. And yet, that was the decision we made. There was no snow in the forecast, no reason not to walk.
Waking up to a sunny day that looked a whole lot colder outside than it was under our blankets shook my resolve. But a promise is a promise. And so we dragged ourselves out from beneath our cozy comfort; dressed in layers and headed out the door. It turned out that the sun was bright and we were dressed in just the right layers. The sunshine felt great and my legs were strong. It was a rewarding walk.
I wanted to stay in bed. I wanted to wallow in the warm laziness of vacation-brain. It would have been so easy to just roll over and stay in bed, but where is the reward in that? Whose memory would that have honored?
Every time I walk, I am walking for somebody currently in treatment who wishes she could walk. Every time I get out there, I am choosing life. Every time I face something I don’t want to do, I am walking for my friend Mary Kay, who wanted to have years more walking with her kids. Every time I walk, I am remembering the lesson I learned on my very first 3Day walk. The walk can get hard, the blisters can ache, my knees can burn from the inside out; but through it all, it really is just a walk. It’s just getting out of bed and believing that I can do whatever has to come next. Isn’t that all life really is? It’s just one foot in front of the other, and I can keep on doing that. We all can.
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