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And then we began. Peeling off through a corridor down the
center of this energized, beautiful, courageous group of folks. Music
energized our steps onto the 18.8 mile route for the day, under a cloudy
San Diego sky.
I walked the first couple of hours pretty much on my own.
Enjoying a chat from time to time, the feel of my body embracing the challenge
of this walk, the meditative movement of putting one foot in front of
the other.
The entire route was manned by volunteer, cheering us on,
keeping us safe, directing traffic and providing food and fluids at multiple
Pit Stops, never more than 3 miles apart. The motto of the 3-Day is No
Whining, and each interaction with each person underlined that. Walkers
and crew alike were unfailingly positive, supportive, and cheerful from
the first step to the last of the day; from Opening Ceremonies to the
9 pm Lights Out.
I walked especially in honor of Marie Wakeley, Nola Royce, and Deane Bader.
One loss and two survivors, courageous women all. And for so many more
- some I know, most I don't. 40,000 women and 400 men each year lose the
battle. I walk for them and for those they leave behind. And I walk for
those who have won the battle. And most importantly, I walk for the time
when the battle will no longer be necessary. I walk for prevention, for
a cure, for education and wellness. I walk for the eradication of breast
cancer. I walk because I Believe.
A couple of hours into the day I began a conversation with
Lorna from Folsom. A delightful restauranteur and very energized walker.
We shared the rest of the day, talking about sibling and kids and nieces
and relationships. About hot spots and sore muscles and why we walk. About
recipes and holidays. As if we'd known each other for years. And one step
at a time, in what seems like almost no time, we were at camp. 18.8 miles,
rest stops, pee breaks, and lunch in just over 6 hours. In the top 100,
with feet and muscles in relative comfort. I had planned on 8 hours. Planned
on being very uncomfortable when I arrived. Shows you what happens to
my plans! So often they serve only to limit my experience.
Camp is a small city of 1500 tent sites, each with a small
flag declaring its address and a blue tent bag containing all the materials
for erecting our home for the night.
But first things first: upon arrival I immediately signed up for a free
15 minute massage. Yup, free. The 3-Day takes incredible care of us walkers.
Full medical care, chiropractors, physical therapists and massage therapists
all available at no charge.
I picked up my gear, took a shower (yup, a real hot shower in these terrific
mobile shower trucks) and met my tentmate, Judith just in time to help
her set our tent. Then I stood back and watched as the city of blue tents
rose from the platform of the baseball fields on which it is built. Many
of these folks had little experience with setting up tents, and I took
great pleasure in assisting that process for a number of folks. And then
decided to play Tent Fairy. I set up a good number of tents before their
walkers arrived, just to make it easier for them. It was fun to hear an
occasional, "Ohmigod, the tent is already set up!" as tired
walkers found their tent sites.
The tents are marked with wonderfully creative decorations
to make them easier to find in the sea of blue. My prayer flags, a colorful
fish balloon, a sign made for an elementary school teacher by her 2nd
grade class, pinwheels, halos, pink scarves of remembrance, even Mickey
Mouse Club Ears.
Massaged and clean, I spent an hour at the Camp Entrance
welcoming and congratulating late arrivals. On the course for 9 and 10
hours, these are the true heroes of the day. Tired and hurting, they continue
to put one foot in front of the other, showing up for the victims, for
the survivors, and for themselves. We whooped and congratulated, high-fived
and clapped for these walkers of extraordinary spirit. It was the high
point of the day for me.
The evening has been about meeting neighbors, playing anonymous
tent fairy for late arrivals, karaoke in the dining tent, a fabulous dinner
and lovely guitar music.
My heart is full as I sit here at my tent door remembering the day. It
is all I had wished for. And far more. The ache in my hips and the sting
of the blister on my heel are tiny prices to pay for the riches of this
day. I am blessed.
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Saturday, 11/22
21.3 miles today, in 7 hours on the nose. Again in the top 100 people.
I am so surprised by that! And immensely grateful to this body of mine
that remembers so easily how to walk long mileage.
Another evening of karaoke in the dining tent. There is
some real talent in this group of walkers. And some real hams as well!
I think I'm having too much fun! I registered for next year's walk and
am thinking about doing all 3 California walks. I like the idea of it
a lot, and my body knows it can do it. Back to back the 1st 3 weekends
in October. A true challenge. Both the walking and the fundraising. (Be
prepared, y'all!)
It's been a rich day. Beautiful weather, body feeling good
with enough challenge from my hips to remind me that this is a bunch of
miles.
I walked by myself for most of the day, meditational, peaceful,
mind meandering through thoughts and music and memories of this place
where I got sober and began a whole new life. The route today took us
through the heart of La Jolla and Pacific Beach - my old stomping grounds.
Home of morning meetings, hundreds of early morning runs, running stairs,
volleyball on the beach, traveling the world to go climbing and returning
home to lay in the sun on the beach. Sweet memories of an 8-year time
period that changed my life in ways I could not imagine.
People honk and wave on a regular basis, some shouting,
"Thank you for walking." In several places folks had gathered
by the side of the road, in lawn chairs, on the grass, gifting us with
applause and "thank You's" and little goodies: Pink popsicle
stick keyrings from a girlscout troop, heart stickers from a 3-year-old
cutie who stuck more on himself than on the walkers, pink necklaces from
a trio of children and their grandmother who sat by a sign that read,
In memory of dorothy." Such deep appreciation for the simple act
of walking. It makes it clear we are doing something important.
And the time in Camp is so precious and so very much fun.
Strangers becoming instant friends through the bonding of sore muscles
and bruised toes and blisters and a tremendous sense of accomplishment.
We ended the night with Groove Line - a funky, 70's disco
cover bank who were fabulous and had us rocking out big time. No better
way to stretch than to just get down and boogie! The pure energy of joyful
movement, playful hootin' and hollerin', and heartful celebration. I highly
recommend this event!
I sit in my tent in profound - and tired - gratitude for
the health and strength ot do the walk, for all who made it possible through
their donations - financial and otherwise - and for the belief that we
can, indeed, eradicate this illness. With that vision, I close my eyes.
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Sunday, 11/23
10 am It was a cold, cold night and morning, at least for San Diego. Certainly
below 40 degrees. It made it a challenge for many folks to get up and
out and reminded me of so many 0-dark-30 starts on so many mountains in
below zero temperatures. Listening to all the chattering teeth around
me, I was grateful that I am comfortable with cool weather. It warmed
up as soon as the sun rose, and by 10 was almost hot.
There was little rush this morning which allowed for a more
leisurely start. I left camp around 7, intending to walk much more slowly
today, as the closing ceremonies don't begin until 4, and I wanted to
revel in this final day. Lots of great conversation, lots of encouragement
along the route. The difficulty of this undertaking is apparent today:
in the wrapped knees, taped feet, odd gaits to protect sore muscles and
joints. And in the indomitable spirits that continue to put one sore foot
in front of the other. It is a celebratory day, even for those who are
hurting. The No Whining motto continues to be the umbrella under which
we all walk on.
We learned last night that our walkers range in age from
16 to 81. I continue to be blown away by the courage and determination
of these folks, of all of us, and particularly of those for whom this
is an enormous challenge. Although this is my 1st walk, my body is familiar
with this kind of endurance. That is true for many walkers. And for many
more, it is new and huge and enormously courageous. For Jeannette whose
doctor told her a mile each day would be great and who has so far walked
25 miles. for the survivor who walks with a cane, slowly, carefully, each
single step a triumph over this illness. For the teenager who walks for
her mom who was taken by breast cancer only a few short weeks ago. I sit
here, surrounded by men and women who are committed to giving everything
they've got to ending this disease. I am awed, inspired, grateful and
proud.
2 pm Under the trees at the Embarcadero Marine Park, cheering in the walkers
who follow me as those who finished before cheered me. It is a sweet,
growing celebration. The last mile along the Harbor and Seaport Village
had a good number of supporters, many with signs of loss and gratitude
for the hope we symbolize. Kids, girlscouts, boyscouts, grandparents,
spouses, friends, and strangers. So much support for these steps we take.
I walked into the closing ceremonies with my friend Amaya
who walked with her aunt to honor their mother/sister who was taken from
them by breast cancer so many years ago. We raised $7.5 million. What
we have done is important. The closing was a celebration and a bittersweet
time as well. Tears and laughter, hope and sorrow, grief and joy. Music
soaring, cheers raising the sky, people joyful and proud, Believing that
we can eradicate breast cancer; believing in themselves; believing in
the future. Yes, what we have done is important.
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Postscript
The experience of the Breast Cancer 3-Day was rich in ways I could not
have imagined. I had thought the walking would be the prominent part.
That was not the case. The walking was relatively easy for me, even with
the limited training, as my body settled into the rhythm it has known
many times before. The true wealth of the experience was in providing
service for other walkers: setting up tents anonymously, giving footrubs.
helping tape joints and blisters, just listening to stories of sadness
and joy, pride and grief, just supporting in whatever way I could. I went
to do a physical walk; I came home with my soul fed.
I highly recommend this event to anyone who has been touched
by breast cancer. Think it's impossible for you to walk 20 miles a day
for 3 days? Think again. Many of the walkers thought that also. And many
of them pulled it off. And many of them didn't. How far you walk isn't
the point. There are SAG wagons all along the route, to take you to the
next Pit Stop where you can rest and walk again. Or to Camp. This isn't
a contest; it is a commitment to ending a horrific disease, and an incredible
experience of community and support. You can find out more at http://www.the3day.org.
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