Someone asked me recently, what led me to walk the Avon 39? My answer: It’s been something I’ve wanted to do for many years, when my friend and mentor, Beth Brokaw’s cancer came out of remission and catapulted her into living with stage 4 cancer, miraculously, for 15 years.
So, I signed up this year after hearing a friend was diagnosed with stage 3 in November, which very quickly became stage 4. In my complete helpless feelings for this friend, Danielle, and her family, immediate and extended, whom I’m very connected with (very is the descriptor that gets placed after one spends Thanksgiving together at her mom’s house so very long ago, you’ve known family members for 20 years, and we’ve moved through pre-children to growing children), I hoped to at least DO something that kept her not just on my mind mentally, prayerfully, but also reminded me of the suffering she’s enduring every day. I wanted to join her momentarily in this suffering space with something that would take everything I had. It feels a bit silly – after all what can my suffering do to alleviate hers? Nothing. However, on an emotional and spiritual level, it brought me face to face with limitations, helplessness, the need for community and cheers of encouragement as well as facing vulnerability head on. In this way, I walked in Danielle’s shoes with new understanding of her needs through my suffering experience. Which I recognize as very limiting because the reality is I know only of momentary life-threatening anxiety, when I got held at gunpoint in my garage in 2000, I’m not having to contain and hold it as she does on a daily basis -living with unknown in the tension of fear and hope. My own suffering started several weeks before the race after an 18-mile practice walk. I developed deep, deep blisters on the balls of my feet. They hadn’t recovered by the time I walked so I spent many hours researching how to take care of them, which turned into experimenting with what works (process included shoes, socks, and blister products). As sometimes God does with timing, Danielle’s feet also became painful, a side effect of her chemotherapy, so I trained and hurt,then trained and hurt, which gave me hours to pray for her as well as experience a glimpse of her pain, how much time and space research can take (after all there are lots of opinions on best socks, shoes, best blister practices as there are lots of cancer treatment ideas and options) – at time it felt like i was on my own with loads of information but no idea of how to decipher what information applied to me or how it applied.
Even though I had a desire to do the Avon 39 walk, what really made me follow through with actually signing up for the event were these partners in crime….I couldn’t have done it without my wonderful team of friends and former workout partners – Jansen, Kathy and Seungee (from left to right in picture).
Here’s a recap of our time…
We look nice and fresh here…all full of smiles. Ignorant smiles.Acquainting ourselves with our event sleeping arrangements…All smiles at 5:30 am.
From the start, we had people cheering for us along the way. People coming out of their houses, others going from section to section – singing, handing out red licorice, water, wet towels, and amazing otter pops, which none of us had eaten for decades (or at least didn’t admit to eating them for decades)! Some of our favorite “cheerleaders” were a couple of guys who held up hilarious signs at different locations around the route. For example, at around mile 5 or 6, one sign said “You are NOT almost there.”
We made it 1/3 of the way. Lunch time! Group stop for me to fix my blister – mile 19. Thank goodness for my glacier gels and Seungee’s foot corn pads which were thicker than my moleskin. From this picture – you cannot tell the steepness. However, this hill and then when we went back down the other side was part of a mile long route…it was so steep my GPS only calculated 1/2 mile. This was at MILE 24!!!!! WHAT? WHY WOULD THEY DO THIS? We have no idea but someone must have been smiling. Us – we just kept on keeping on, one foot after another.Yup! We did it. What didn’t get counted was then needing to walk down some smaller hills to hit the showers at the polo club. We were disappointed they didn’t have horse carriages as transportation.Thank goodness, Kathy gave us wax earplugs! Teamwork continues.Ready for round 2 — 13.1 miles. We were grateful we’d participated in foam rolling, foot massagers and for some of us, an actual 10 minute massage.We needed these guys (and gals) to get us through!! They stopped traffic, gave us encouragement and were full of energy! Each had personality and brought their ‘A’ game.It wasn’t easy to get up on day two knowing we had 13 miles to go after already walked 26.2 but recognizing our pain was temporary moved us from self-pity to one foot in front of the other with hope and determination, the same character traits needed for cancer fighters.
With that said, the second day was grueling. It was hotter. We were sore. Our quads were crying out for us to stop and our feet were protesting. We were grateful for Jan’s suggestion for compression socks because they helped keep the cramping away. There was so much discomfort it’s hard to describe. One of our inspirational figures, who was walking about our pace was a Chicago fireman who wore his uniform (heavy!) while pushing his mother in a wheelchair for 39 miles. He walked because he’d been an absent son and had abandoned his mother during some of her breast cancer treatment. Spending time with her walking was part of his redemption. He’d walked 4 events when we saw him. His story can be found on Facebook, walking4ma.
We were greeted by so many people along the way. With some, their sorrow could be felt, especially in the eyes of the children, and for others, they showed up to encourage us with their sense of humor with their comments like , “when else can I chase girls for two days and not get arrested,” and their signs like, “you think your legs are hurting, my arms are killing me” (from holding the sign), “Go total strangers go” “worst parade yet,” “where’s the floats?”
Our LB hats brought us lots of love. We were proud to represent our city along with the other women we met from the LB. We were supported all along the way at every turn and we met some beautiful people – one woman had raised over 4 million dollars in her lifetime of walks, another had walked in 141 events.
After the event, my feet had two blisters on them…a new one from the day that I had once again treated with foot corn pads and gel as soon as I felt it (wasn’t soon enough) and the first blister at mile 19, even though drained by the medical team at the end of day 1 (26.2 miles), decided to reappear again on day 2. My battle wounds– This is the day one blister a week out….still healing.One thing that was reinforced from this walk is I desperately need community coming alongside and cheering when the going gets tough – gets life and death tough. I’m not sure I can imagine finishing this event without the massive support we received. Their were so many levels of support from the traffic people, to the rest stops, to the water stops, to the bathroom stops, etc. Even the pink arrows and mile markers, were so helpful because we could break up our race in small chunks, telling ourselves, just get to the next marker. One mile at a time. I think it is the same when navigating extremely painful things – it’s about getting through ________ before worrying about what’s next. And it’s when we can’t get through ____________(fill in the blank) then we must have people in our space so we can get through it.
What I loved about suffering together, is that I grew to enjoy the small things about each one of my team members. Jan, she’s steady and loyal. She’s going to get done what needs to get done and she’ll bring you with her. She’s going to own her pain and support you through yours. Kathy, is engaging and observant. She keeps on keeping on, able to both receive and give in her suffering – coming up with that funny quip or observation at just the right time. She’s up for anything. Seungee is our social member – full of energy and encouragement. She had no qualms about engaging the people around us, asking about the names on their shirts or the money they raised. She knew what was up through her information gathering techniques and helped us keep up the news. As a team, we raised our hands “woohoo” as cars beeped at us or people cheered – engaging with others – letting them know we received their encouragement and shouts. We encouraged one another whether it was to make it to the next mile or to fix the problems flaring on our feet. It was a lovely adventure. One I’m trying to talk them into repeating – only this time the 60 mile walk. Just kidding, LBC Girls who may be reading this. 😉
For everyone who contributed to our walk, i want to thank you from the bottom of my heart. Our LBC Girls team raised $8375 to go to breast cancer research and access to screenings and treatment to underserved populations. The 1600 walkers who participated in the weekend raised 4.1 million by Saturday morning and more donations were expected.
Thanks for walking with me, with us, through your interest, donations, thoughts and prayers. We received them. If you didn’t know we were walking, lift up a family you know facing cancer. They need you with them in their fight against cancer. They can’t do it without you. You’re important. Don’t underestimate your value as family, a friend, a church member, a co-worker, a neighbor, or someone standing in the grocery store line (Jansen). You are needed in this fight. We all are.