Three Days

There is no possible way I can squeeze into one post everything that happened this weekend as I walked in the Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer 3-Day.  There is also no possible way that anyone would have enough time to read the whole thing if I did.  I may come back to it with some deeper musings in a few days when I’ve had a chance to process more, but for now, I will share with you a few of the many results of my walking 60 miles this weekend:

  • I have six blisters on my feet.  The Daddy blister is about the size of a quarter.  Maybe bigger.
  • I now walk like a ninety-year-old woman.  Make that a ninety-year-old pregnant woman.  Not pretty.
  • I now expect to be high-fived by everyone I pass on the street.
  • I learned that my husband knows how to: load and unload the dishwasher, tidy the playroom bookshelves and (gasp!) clean the toilet.  I knew he was an awesome Daddy, but he really showed off his talents this weekend.  (Note: I also learned he does *not* know that little girls should wear tights to church when it’s 40 degrees outside.  Oh well, nobody’s perfect.)
  • I raised (with the help of many of you) $2242 for the fight against breast cancer (and you can still donate if you want!)  Woohoo!
  • Susan G. Komen for the Cure raised (through this walk alone)… ready?  8.1 million dollars!
  • I have a new appreciation for this song.  It was played at opening ceremony and stayed in my head all weekend.  And I think I love it even more now than I did before.  (Except for the getting drunk part.  Sorry about that!)

  • I have a new appreciation for my best friend.
  • And for her husband, who brought us chocolate and Coke Zero on Saturday and is quite possibly the only reason we made it back to camp that day without getting on the sweep van.
  • I love port-a-potties.  That might sound like sarcasm, but I assure you, it isn’t.  Even with potty breaks every hour or so along the walk, when little old pregnant me was drinking 16 oz. of fluid an hour, words cannot express how my heart sang each time those little green huts appeared in the horizon.
  • I will never, ever again take for granted the following things: a hot bath, a warm bed, a day of doing nothing much with my family.  I had no idea I could miss them so much in just three days.
  • I will never again take for granted my own health or that of my loved ones after spending the weekend with many who had lost loved ones to breast cancer or had survived it themselves.  They were the real heroes of this walk.

Israelites, I Feel Your Pain

It seems like whenever I hear the story of the Israelites wandering in the desert for years and years, a very ugly picture is painted of their attitude.  What was their problem?  They had been miraculously freed from slavery and were being led on an exciting journey by God Himself.  They had sweet manna to eat and fresh, cool water to drink.  Quail when they got bored of all that.  And still they grumbled.  Why all the grumbling?

Well, I’ll tell you why.  It was the WALKING!

*Before* the training walk - all smiles!

*Before* the training walk - all smiles!

I walked about 8 miles (not quite ten due to rain delay) on Saturday morning, and that was plenty.  I’m not panicking.  I will get better sneakers and train more and drink more fluids.   I will still walk 60 miles for Breast Cancer in October, but man,  I am going to feel it!

By about three hours after I got home from the training walk and expo, my head started throbbing.  I’m pretty sure in hindsight that I was dehydrated, and I managed to shake it off after downing a bottle of gatorade, but for a while there, I just wanted to do nothing but rest my poor weary head.  And feet.  Sunday morning we walked to church, and I actually felt pretty energetic, but I don’t know that I could’ve done another eight or ten or twenty miles like I will have to do for the real thing.   I definitely still have some bigtime training ahead of me!

In other news, the Expo was fabulous.  It was just what I needed to get me motivated and give me just a tiny glimpse of the bigness of the cause we are walking for.  The workshops were great for giving us fundraising ideas and training tips, and we got free popcorn, too (I’d have been there just for that!)  But just before we left, we looked at two “memorial tents”.  Click to enlarge the picture and read a few for yourself.  I think you’ll see why I left the Expo a little bit tearful and a *lot* more committed to doing whatever I can to fight this devastating disease.

Pink Ribbons and Sore Feet

So remember way back in March when I told you I was going to be walking 60 miles for Breast Cancer in the Susan G. Komen Philadelphia 3-Day?  Remember how I promised to update you?  Remember how I haven’t?  At all?

Well, truth be told, there hasn’t been much to update on.  I have taken the dog for several 3-mile walks.  I have purchased a pink fanny pack/cooler thingy to carry my gatorade in (and some gatorade).  I have persuaded two whole people to sponsor me.  Two.  It’s been a slow four months.

But tomorrow, all that changes.  Tomorrow, I will be out of the house before the girls even wake up to do my first official training walk (ten miles!) with Mary.   Then, at 10 AM, when I’m so exhausted that I can barely move, Mary and I will go to the 3-Day Expo: a three-hour-long pep rally to get us totally excited about the walk and the cause we’re doing it for.    I need that.   I just hope I’m conscious enough by that point to take it all in.

After tomorrow, I will start walking every evening after the girls are in bed.  I will buy a decent pair of sneakers. I will start pestering everyone I know to sponsor me.  Hey, I may as well start that now.

If you are reading my blog, then you are probably looking right at a big hot pink button over to the right that will take you straight to my donation page.  (If you’re reading me on a feed, quick, quick: hop over to my blog!)  If you don’t feel particularly passionate about breast cancer, you probably should.  I probably should, too, but sometimes it’s hard to work up genuine emotion for a cause you haven’t had much personal experience with.  After tomorrow, I will feel more passionate, and perhaps I will persuade you too as well.  In the meantime, look at it this way: I have $2000 more to raise in order to participate in this event.  Anything I don’t raise comes out of my pocket.  Maybe that’s a cause you can relate to?