More 3 Day Thoughts

By Sunday morning, everything was getting me all weeping. We walked through a path that was lined with young women for about 100 yards. I was so tired and so grateful for their support. They cheered and yelled and high-fived.

I loved a cheer squad from a ghetto Hispanic middle school. So great.

I loved seeing my dad along the route and him being so confused how I could possible be ahead of my teammates with feet like that.

I loved looking for Nurse Pam at each pit stop and seeing her light up when I complimented her and told the people around me how great she is. I loved hearing her say that she was going to get me through this walk. All 60 miles.

I loved asking Tobi and Kari if they are getting mammograms and getting them to talk about things that might save their lives – physically and emotionally.

I loved hearing a few people tell me they don’t want children, thinking about what they said and then feeling renewed times a hundred in my faith that I am an eternal mother who wants to bare a baker’s dozen.

I loved the watching Kate’s favorite survivor. She was a younger women with a license plate tied to her backpack that said "survivor" in license plate language. She had tattoos on her arms and her husbands and friends beside her. Her hair had just grown out from last year’s chemo.

I loved reading a note that Kari wrote to her mother on the “in memory of” tent inside the remembrance exhibit in camp. I bawled, of course, I wrote a note to my neighbor Susan who died this summer, and I thanked her for being an amazing example and for an important piece of advise she once gave me.

I loved spending time with my Aunt Sally and her telling me how proud she is of me, and me genuinely feeling the same about her.

I loved laughing with my cousin Kate.

I loved that Sarah never complained ever and then said, “I have to go to the medical tent.” WHAT? What a trooper? I am not one to hold things in, but I appreciate the effort is takes to lift others when you are in pain.

During the last 2 miles I met Casey, a 25-year-old girl who lives with her parents in the bay area and came to San Diego to walk alone. She and I were so tired. We walked very slowly together, and she let me hold on to her as we went up and down dozens of curbs in the last mile. I might not have made it to the finish (on my feet) without her.

I loved Helen, the little woman we met at opening ceremonies and adopted into out team!! She walked a lot with Sally, and I loved the moment I walked up and saw them sitting on a bench on the side of the course at the beach sipping on drinks and eating olives and crackers with meat that a supporter was handing out. They looked like royalty.

I loved walking up and seeing Tobi cutting a big whole in her shoe to give her big toe some room. Later I cut the toes off of a pair of socks and wore them with my flip flops to keep the bandages on. I apologized to my dad, “I know we have a family rule: No socks and sandals.” Someone else told me it was OK to break those kinds of rules during extreme sports.

I loved the old man and old women dressed up like Dolly Parton and a cowboy driving the country music-themed sweep van. And I loved the 80’s van with a woman dressed as 80’s Madonna with her gloved hand dancing out the window.

I loved the amazing number of supporters that come out to cheer for the walkers at this event. There is a guy in 80’s pants with yellow happy faces on them. He is the "smile guy," and he stands on various parts of the course all day long. His 7-year-old daughter draws designs on people’s hands as they go by, and the Smile Guy gives out buttons and yells happy words into a old electronic megaphone that has a few music effects. He pushes the classic “Da, da, da, da, da, da CHARGE” button, and after everyone yells charge, he says, “You are officially charged up. Let’s go, Ladies.” Miles of Smiles.

There were cheer squads and lots of people giving out candy and stickers. There is this group of older women who dress up as hookers. Their van says, “Hookers for Hooters.” It is not funny at first, but they keep coming back, and I LOVED them. The best was the third day, on Sunday, they were not dressed as hookers, but instead were in their PJ’s because even Hookers get Sundays off after long Saturday nights. There was another group of 3 Hispanic women wearing those beach coverups that have a skinny lady in a bikini that is supposed to look like your body. They danced and dance and shook their butts, and it never got hold for me. I loved them. People handed out cheese, chips, red vines, life savers, candy, bling, stamps, beet, tequila, Jell-o shots, water, juice, hot dogs.

One man lined up with 4 pug dogs on his front step, and people would stop and have their picture taken with the row of dogs. One man sprayed his dogs hair pink. I LOVED IT. It reminded me of Quinn and her pink poodle and made me think of my girls and how badly I want them to live healthy lives. I also ran into Elmo and Cookie monster on the course. Cried, or course.

One of my favorite signs read, “My cups runneth Over.” The breast lines never ended:

• I am simple the Breast
• Boobs, they are close to my hearth.
• The Hello Kitty Titty Committee
• I am pumped to cure Cancer (Breast Pump)
• A t-shirt with a list of the walker’s sponsors listed by bra cup size
• Lots of save the ta-tas
• Lots of Save Second Base
• Lots of I love Boobies
• Pink is my color. Or I wear Pink for … (Mom, friend, Aunt…)
• Blisters don’t need chemo

I remember how my feet felt like heaven in sandals compared to shoes. I hit the course with a gusto and started passing all kinds of gimps who had not figured out that they need to throw their shoes in the dust. After I passed people, they would see my feet and call out words of encouragement. And since I had already seen them limping, as I flew by, I would call back, “You need to see Nurse Pam. She’s at Pit Stop 2 today!!!” During this speed walk, I bartered my dollars and a gift card I had with me for a fancy 3-day key chain that I plan to turn into a x-mas ornament. I danced. I sang. I made friends, of course, and that 3 miles went by in about 50 minutes. That is light speed ahead in 3-day terms. The best part was that when I got the pit stop, I got in line to pee, and my favorite San Jose bike cop was in my line. He had his music pumping, and I called out “Single Ladies!!” He had told me he’d play it on request for me anytime. We started dancing and singing. Apparently, Cousin Kate was a few bathroom lines over when she heard the music. She saw the cop, and started texting me to tell me I was missing my favorite song. When she realized I was right there dancing with the cop. My whole team found me in the crowd of about 500 people at the stop. I was on fire.

Of course I wasn’t just walking for me and my ego or to have fun. I really believe that the hard work and effort of individuals is what creates change in the world. I hate breast cancer. I hate that it takes women off of the earth before they are ready to go, and I especially hate it when it takes young moms. I am a young mom; don’t mess with me, cancer. And it goes without saying that I hate breast cancer when it kills my young neighbor and my best friend's mom and tries to kill my mom and aunt. Seriously, don’t mess with me cancer. Because of this event I have a stronger sense of my ability to work toward change for the causes and issues that matter to me.