The 3 Day Metaphor for Life

On dozens of occasions during my 60 miles of walking this weekend, I was overcome with the metaphor before me. The event really felt like a metaphor for life as I was constantly reminded that life is about being involved with things and people that matter and overcoming all kinds of obstacles. There were constant reminders of the importance of working together, supporting others, being selfless, and truly believing that anything is possible ... even eliminating a disease. It all sounds cliche, but how many up us really believe all that, know all that and live with all that right in front of our faces?

I had so many moments when the pain was unbearable and when the thought crept in that I might not be able to do this. But the human spirit is strong. I wanted to to do it. I wanted to keep walking, and sure enough, I always found a way to make it happen. In life we have moments where we want to quit or give up or when we just feel that things might never get better or we will never be good enough. Now most of the time it gets better with time, and that space of time from the lowest point to the highest has enough distance that it is hard to remember the extremes of the feelings. As a mother, we normally don't have the worst day and the best moments of motherhood in one day. By the time we get to an amazing day, the bad is far enough in the past that we can not really remember it at all.What is cool about the 3 day is that you hit rock bottom and reach sky high all within a couple of hours, and it makes the miracle of overcoming a challenge feel very real and very alive.

I promised to offer the footster -- half foot, half blister -- details, so here it goes: I started feeling some rubbing on the inside of my foot on .... wait for it ... of yes ... mile 5. I had 55 miles ahead of me, and I was already cutting mole skin on the side of the road. By mile 10 I was at the medic tent, and by mile 16, I was making intimate friends with the people handing out second skin blister covers and foot tape. A nurse named Pam tape me up better than anyone else and sent me off to finish 4 more miles and day 1. Without her I would have been toast. I was in a ton of pain, but I was walking. The blisters were spreading everywhere, and I started to feel the muscles behind my left knee ache because I was walking funny to compensate for my feet. Dear me. But I just kept walking. Then -- at dark -- I walked the world's slowest mile and crossed the finish line for day 1.

The next morning the blisters were big and getting bigger and trying to knock me out. I headed to the medical tent and got my blisters popped and tapes, but the pain was so bad after this that I could barely walk to the breakfast tent. I sent my team to the course to start walking and told them I would find a way. So I walked through the self help medic area calling out, "Pam, Pam, nurse Pam." I found my Pam. She worked at light speed to get my feet cushioned and ready to roll. She had secret supplies that no one else had. She rocked! I had to run from Pam to the starting line because if you don't start by a certain time, they basically don't let you participate. I scanned my credentials, which officially starts you in the day's walk, and then I sneaked back into camp to fix the problem. At that point -- hiding behind a motor home and an out house -- I only had one choice: my flip flops. I figured I could either give up now or I could walk in my flip flops until it was unbearable ... then quit. So, I slipped on my trusty Reefs and started off. It felt great to be moving again. My prayers -- the literal ones I said outside as a ditched the course to change my shoes -- had been answered. I felt back in control. And I felt really happy. I felt really strong. I walked faster than I realized and actually caught up with my team. My feet were a mess, but the blisters were to doing OK. (And I was dancing with a cute San Jose bike cop to 'Single Ladies' while waiting for the bathroom.) I figured new problems would catch up to me since flip flops are really not so much intended for use in extreme sporting events. But again it was either walk or sit down, and I didn't leave my babies at home to sit down.

Day 2 turned out to be my favorite of all the days. I was toward the back of the crowd walking with all sorts of people and lots of other gimps. The last mile felt long again, but it was worth it. I had reached the lows and highs of my spirit in just one day. I can accomplish great things. And by this small weekend, I was reminded that I am great. As it says in the Book of Mormon, "by small and simple things are great things come to pass." At the end of Day 2 I could not bend my left big toe, but I was happy and laughing at dinner. My bath hurt so badly that I laughed out loud for 10 minutes until my cousin Kate knocked to see it I was stuck in the tub. I laughed harder and then went to bed.

On Day 3 I found nurse Pam, got all taped up, added some horrible looking toeless socks to the flip flops and kept walking. I literally just kept walking. I took no breaks until there was only 2 miles left because I knew if I stopped, I might not start again. And, remember, not finishing was just not an option for me.

I always say that I like hard things. I'm no liar. I loved the challenge before me. I finally stopped for lunch with my parents with about 2 miles left in the event. And then I walked like a snail for 2 more miles holding on to a stranger named Casey in order to get up and down each curb. We didn't stay strangers for very long.

So after 40 miles, I crossed the finish line in my Reefs and barely made it to the car. I was still laughing.

When life is hard, it tests who we are and how we deal. It tests our faith in God and in self and in others. It reminds up what we are capable of. I like hard thing. My favorite and dearest teacher used to say, "Stay away from people who take obstacles away from you." He and I had similar values. He understood.

So as funny as the sweep vans that bus the tired people back to camp were with their themes, costumes and music, I did not let them drive me up the hills or home. I went to California to walk, and that I did.

On day 2 Cousin Carrie asked me if I were going to try to wear my shoes on day 3, I told her I was not going to try to wear shoes until February. No Change.