Wednesday, June 11, 2014

Susan G. Komen 3-Day Part 2: The First 20 Miles

If you know me, you know that I had to start the first 20 miles with a pit stop.  Yes, before even mile 1.0.  Susan had told me to look for her flag.  She was one of the survivors who participated in the opening ceremonies and carried one of the pink flags which each designated a reason why we walk this event.  I found her and she introduced me to her team.  I met Paul, the man in the pink hat as I started to call him on Facebook.  I did not want to give his name away.  I wasn't sure how much of his story he was okay with me sharing.  Tina, the mightiest little warrior and crossfit queen.  I learned that her nickname (from Paul, and I'm sure others) is Iron Maiden, because she is tough as nails.  Sara, the one who would end up helping me nurse my blisters, and therefore my lifesaver!  I also met Lee, a friend of Sue's who I saw as a mother sort, quiet and thoughtful in the gentlest of ways.

Thankfully, the team was patient and they waited as I stood in line to use the restroom.  As we began to walk, I was surprised at how quickly the group made me feel at ease.  I am not one to warm up to new people easily.  Frankly, new people scare me.  They intimidate me.  I don't usually talk to them, but within 10 minutes, Paul, Tina and I were cracking jokes.  It was like family, almost instantly the nerves of walking 60 miles alone were gone.  And so was Susan.  The team is a group of athletes, and although I am working my way to that status, an athlete I do not consider myself.  Sue was fast!

I trained too, but I trained alone, at my own pace and I had only trained up to 17 miles and then had gotten fairly sick and had only been able to train for a few more weeks prior to the event.  I could feel that I was slowing everyone down.  On top of being on the heavy side, I was overcoming a respiratory infection that had aggravated my asthma.  Still, Paul and Tina made sure they stayed behind with me.  Sue walked ahead and then would stay behind to check on us.  I spent most of my time talking to Paul, Sue, and Tina.  Lee and Sara, were simply to fast for me (insert jealous tone here, since I wish I could have kept up)!

Paul and I were both first time walkers, but he is also an athlete.  They were all fast, they trained hard; they trained together.  Paul walked this event in memory of his wife.  Sue walked as a survivor.  The rest of us walked as supporters of Susan G. Komen and the fight against breast cancer.  I walked the event as both a personal goal, and to prevent this disease from reaching my loved ones.  I was unaware that my father's cousin had undergone a double mastectomy, something I only learned a week ago.

At the first pit-stop we grabbed some fruit and filled our water bottles.  Paul picked up a flag that another walker left behind.  Usually, walkers carry the flags for only 3-6 miles, but Paul carried his for 17 that day.  The next days he carried two...he carried them the full remaining 40 miles.

I learned before mile 3.0 that Tina is always on her phone...which caused Paul great concern.  Apparently Tina has fallen on some of her runs (or at least that's what I'm told, I've only seen Tina in the standing, running, sitting, or walking position).  Paul, has a very gentle soul.  He watched out for Tina as if she were his little sister.  He steered her in the right direction away from curbs, cars bushes, and the such.  He actually watched out for all of us that way, maybe not so much, we weren't on our phones.  I don't think he ever worried about himself.  I quietly wondered what this was like for him.  I didn't want to pry.
I wanted to tell them, but I didn't have the heart, that by mile 6, I could feel the blisters festering.  Blisters had been an issue throughout my training.  I could feel them burning through the balls of my feet.  At the second pit stop I checked my feet, and although I could not see them, I could feel them coming.  I smiled through the burning pain and applied body glide.  When asked I said "I'm fine."  There wasn't  much more to be done.  What could I have done?  I set out to walk 60 miles, there were 54 more to go.  Only 5 more to lunch!

At lunch, I found a table of blister sufferers united among ointments and patches and bandages galore.  All had different tricks they had picked up along the way.  One person insisted on duct tape.  I had read about this, but had never met anyone who actually used it.  He handed me some.  I also used some of the traditional methods.  Apply some spray adhesive, some new skin, some mole skin, a ton of Body Glide and pray!  NONE OF IT WORKED!  Except for the duct tape, more than the rest anyway.  I made it though, I don't think I complained once on day one.

We made it back to the camp site (a high school football field).  I purchased some overpriced flip flops from the New Balance tent because my feet were so swollen that the ones I had packed didn't fit, and I lounged around for a while.  Thankfully the showers were warm, and catering offered a vegetarian option, because although I am not vegetarian, I prefer a vegetarian meal.  I showered and was impressed that although the blisters hurt (a little) I felt okay.  I did not know how my screaming aching feet were going to make it another 20 miles though, much less 40.  Ibuprofin was my friend. 

Have you ever gone to Disneyland?  You know how your feet hurt so bad at the end of the day you just want to cry?  We went to Disneyland in the middle of my training and I thought "Perfect, you must walk at least 15 miles a day at Disneyland!" No, no, it's more like 7 or less!  So what I am saying is:
3-Day Day1 Foot Pain = 3 (Disneyland Day 1 Foot Pain )

I thought about quitting that day, because how was it possible for my feet to be okay in just 8 short hours again?  I couldn't quit though, the next day was family day.  My family had been supporting me for 10 long months of non-stop training and fundraising, and they would be visiting at the end of the day.  I had to finish Day 2, then I could quit.

Sunday, June 1, 2014

Susan G Komen 3-Day Part 1: Opening Ceremony (picture heavy because words cannot accurately describe what my soul felt)

DAY 1:  I trained for the day for so long and I raised over $2,600.  Still I wondered what I had gotten myself into.  The chill in the ear bit into my ears and my nose and I was all alone amid a sea of pink shirts and tutus.  Of course, my camera decided it didn't want to work, so I took out my phone and started taking pictures.  As if the Arizona sky was aware of this significance of the day, the early morning clouds turned a beautiful shade of pink.

As I wandered around I met some girls from Seattle which instantly brightened my day because best friend had just moved to Seattle.  I began to realize how happy everyone was to be at this incredible event and the sense of community that was involved.

Still, I was alone.  Not many people in this crowd seemed to be alone.  I also don't approach people I don't know if they don't approach me first so, I was pretty much assured to be walking a 60 miles of self discovery and of testing of my own will and determination.  Until Susan and her team changed my life.  I didn't know it at the moment, but simply by standing near the stage, life, God, fate, or just plain luck had placed me exactly where I needed to be for the time in my life where I didn't know if I could accomplish what I had worked so hard to do.  What I did not have the faith in myself for.

Susan:  THE brightest light when
 I look for sources of inspiration
Susan didn't do anything outside of her character.  She was simply Susan.  Because I was close to the stage, she thought I was a survivor waiting for the ceremony to start, I was simply avoiding the crowd.  She asked me to take her picture, and I asked her to take mine.  My mom called the group I ended up with my angels on earth and I couldn't agree more.  Susan is a survivor.  When she found out I would be walking alone and that it was my first event, she did not hesitate in asking me to join her and her team.

I cannot describe the opening ceremony and the emotions that go along with it.  Imagine a crowd of survivors and their supporters, of those who were left behind by mothers, sisters, daughters, and of those who simply want to see an end to this awful disease.  Some of the walkers were at the time undergoing chemo treatments.  Some, like Paul, walked in memory of a wife lost too soon.  If you ever have the chance to attend a 3-Day event as a volunteer, a walker or a spectator, DO NOT hesitate.  I am not exaggerating when I say that you leave with a new perspective on life.  A new appreciation for those you love.
The man in the pink hat and blue shirt:
Paul walking for his wife.
The only person I knew
at this time was on the
stage.  All of the others
who would become life-
long friends, ended up
in the random pictures
I was taking.
Do you see the funny bra?
 Sara a veteran walker.
The lady in the hat next to her?
Lee, also an experienced walker.
I started the day alone, but soon I was accompanied by five living angels who pushed me and believed in me so much more than I believed in myself.  Not all angels have wings, some walk along side us and don't even realize they are angels.
The smallest, and mightiest angel, Tina
 is to the left of Paul (in the pink hat).  

Tuesday, January 14, 2014


Before I begin, I know it's been too long.  Since my last post I participated and completed the Susan G. Komen 3-Day.  It was a remarkable experience about which I will write in my next post.

Pain Noun:  Physical suffering or discomfort caused by illness or injury.

Today, I burned my hand while cooking dinner.  It caused me pain.  There is a pink shiny line running down the center of my palm trough my head line which is broken in two places (for those who are into palm reading). Coincidentally, I have had my head slammed to the street surface twice.  I'm sure the location of the burn has no significance other than that I cook with my hands and not with my feet.

On my left wrist I wear a bruise the color of an eggplant.  I would say that it caused me pain, but I don't remember how it even got there, and it is not tender.  When I stub my toe, I say a few choice words and dance around like it is going to alleviate the sharp pain somehow, and my children watch as they try not to giggle because I might get mad if they do.

During the Susan G. Komen event I suffered tremendous pain due to multiple sizable blisters.  When it comes to physical pain, we can't always take the pain away, but we can take measures to lessen it.  We can apply salves, burst a blister, take some aspirin, put ice on it, use a bandage.  In extreme cases, we go to the emergency room for more potent medicines.  There are a number of remedies available for physical pain.

But what about emotional pain? 

 I can't see it.  I can't touch it.  I don't truly know where to apply the bandage or the salve.  Recent events have surfaced a pain in me that I thought I had gotten rid of over a decade ago.  It is a pain that traveled my childhood and adolescence with me and through most of my college years.  It is the pain that drove me to study psychology.   

Perhaps it is the pain that I tried to capture in this self portrait from when photography was my minor.  

In an effort to ease the pain, I have found myself looking for how to forgive.  I was wrong in thinking the pain was gone.  The pain was covered over with a sheet in the dark corner of the attic of my mind.  Once in a while it would catch my attention but then it would be gone again, never affecting me the way it used to.

And so now, I look to forgive.  I do not forgive for them.  I forgive for me.  If I do not, I can never be truly happy again.  The pain had manifested itself into physical discomfort.  I find myself at the gym trying to run the pain away and then I find myself crying in the car after I'm finished running.  

Today the emotional pain manifested itself as illness.  I found myself at the local pharmacy's clinic to be told it was most likely a simple case of allergies.  I received some nasal spray and told to run on.  Then I had another session of tears in the car as I came to the realization that I was not physically run down from illness, but rather from emotion.  

So I write this blog in an effort to begin the process of true forgiveness.  It will not be instant. It will take a long time, but I will make peace with the pain and be thankful for the last 12 years.  The years when the pain was hidden.  This time though, I will not hide it back in the attic. I will put it out on the curb to be taken to the landfill.  Not to be forgotten, but to be learned from.


  "Forgiveness is a process.  Forgiveness is not about giving your approval of an offender's wrong-doing.  It's not about viewing what they did as less harmful than it truly was.  And it'snot about giving the offender a "free pass" to keep on doing wrong actions against you.  Forgiveness is about recognizing that staying resentful creates an "active echo" of the pain the offender caused.  By saying that the awful offense the offender did is "beyond forgiving" you give them the power to keep their offense alive in your heart.  Basically, you give them offender continued power over you.  forgiveness begins with the mind recognizing that there's a truthful logic in how the past cannot be changed, but happily the present and future can be.  Eventually forgiveness progresses to the heart with the heart deciding it will no longer the offender's pain to take permanent residence.  Yes, it is a process, but eventually the mind and heart together recognize that the choice to forgive is both logical and spiritually liberating."~Karen Salmansohn

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