Since I'm now home and decompressing, I thought this blog would be helpful to not only reflect on my three days in Boston, but to document my preparation for the 2011 3-Day for the Cure. Thankfully on the first night I purchased a journal and pen set from the 3-Day Store (http://www.shop3day.com/) so that I could keep track of my thoughts, and Amanda and I were pretty good about updating it. The account is somewhat chronological and somewhat general (as I describe something that happened on multiple days I'm not going to re-describe it a second or third time).
At the conclusion of the ceremony, we were set off into the streets of Framingham. The music of Katrina and the Waves playing in the background, I began walking, slightly confused, following the crowd. Either immediately before or immediately after entering through the corrals where we were scanned in (each walker was accounted for upon exiting and entering the route daily) I heard "Are you walking alone?" when I said "yes" she replied "me too." I guess we weren't alone anymore. The friendly voice was Amanda Garcia, Airwoman and soon to be Nurse. From outside Boston, by way of Texas, Amanda was walking for her Aunt Betty, who at the same time Amanda was walking, was receiving a chemotherapy session. This, by far, is quite possibly the best "forced friendship" I have ever experienced. Throughout the three days we became "Sistahs in Blistahs" (although I don't think Amanda had even one blister at the end of the event), sharing stories and keeping each other moving to the next pitstop.
Each pit stop was an opportunity to refuel and relieve. It was also a chance to stretch and chat with other walkers and volunteers. The stops were themed and staffed by the most energetic volunteer crew members you could even imagine. This is an amazing group of people. Amazing.
There are 3 different types of stops on the route.
- Pit Stops = drinks (water and gatorade), food (typically salty snacks, bananas, apples, carrots, cheese sticks), medical (basic first aid) and port-o-potties
- Grab & Gos = drinks, food and port-o-potties
- Lunch = drinks, food (sandwiches, etc.), medical (including sports medicine who can wrap a joint like nobody's business) and port-o-potties
On day one we walked through several towns between Framingham and Waltham (where our camp was) we were impressed by Wellsley in particular. The town itself was gorgeous, and the homes were breathtaking. And because the sidewalks were in decent shape we actually got to enjoy some of the scenery. Throughout the first 20 or so miles ("Komen miles" are mapped a little differently than "normal" miles) I saw people walking with the assistance of crutches, people being pushed in wheelchairs, people with active chemotherapy ports, casts, and at least two pregnant women - one was 20 weeks, the other seven months. Knowing that all these people with all these "disabilities" were walking alongside us, not complaining or whining about the road that lay ahead of them it made it a little easier to finish.
The last mile or so of day one was made up of a very long hill. Not very steep, but very long. We had to walk in a single file line, as there was no sidewalk and it was a rather busy street. As we thought we weren't going to make it up the hill, a couple of girls came up behind us with their iPod and speakers blasting the opening bars of "Livin on a Prayer"... instantly we were all singing and plowing forward up this hill! When we entered the grounds of Gann Academy in Waltham (http://www.gannacademy.org/) we were greeted by the Men with Heart. They were hi-fiving every walker as he or she entered. Standing out in the rain with their ponchos on, you could still see their yellow shirts (http://www.menwithheart.org/) as they made sure we all had that last kick of energy to get through the "finish line" for the day and go set up our tents.
On that first day I went to get my tent, (so cute and pink and bound up, it was brand new and parts of it were still wrapped in plastic) and began the task of setting it up alone. Amanda had an assigned tent mate already, and my original tent mate had a fever and wouldn't be joining me. I did a pretty good job setting it up alone, until it got to actually putting the posts into the holes in the four corners... thank GOD for a green-shirted crew member who came up next to me and offered a set of hands! Together we got the tent upright and the rain fly on just in the nick of time, before the torrential downpours started!
I then went back up to the gear area to retrieve my bag of stuff. Thankfully I had read in an earlier blog to wrap EVERYTHING in my gear bag in plastic (this included using a clear garbage bag around my sleeping bag and pillow). Although the gear bags were covered with a tarp, they were still damp by the time we went to pick them up. I got everything put away, and Amanda decided to join me as my tent mate as well as my walking buddy (personally I think her previous tent mate was lame and that's why she came to join me). So we gathered our shower stuff and headed up to dinner (you always eat before showering at a 3-Day event, if you do the reverse you can pass out in the shower and they have to drag your naked body out into the open air to assist you). Dinner was actually pretty good - some form of meat (roast beef, maybe?), veggies and red roasted potatoes. Not bad for institutionally prepared food at all. After dinner we waited in line for the showers (in the back of a trailer truck) while it poured rain outside, and we questioned why we were even bothering to shower at all... Honestly, the showers weren't bad. They reminded me of the showers at Burlingame State Park (http://www.riparks.com/burlgmcamp.htm) back in the late 80s when my Aunt Kathleen and Uncle Carl took me camping for the first time (except these didn't require me to feed them quarters).
We made a quick visit to the 3 day shop (as referenced above) after showering, where I got Morgan a long sleeved T-shirt and little bear, along with the journal I purchased for myself, and then joined the rest of the 1500 walkers and 300 crew members for the evening's "Camp Show" which included some entertainment, a video from Nancy G. Brinker (founder and sister of Susan G. Komen) and her son, and most importantly information that we needed to know for the next day (including what time the route would be opened the next morning and the predicted weather for the day). Then the fun started... sober karaoke. Of course I didn't participate, because we all know that Shannon doesn't sing, and if I do sing then either myself or the audience (preferably both) needs to be well more than half in the bag. But we were entertained by a young girl who sang "Red Neck Woman" an amazing woman who sang "Me & My Bobby McGee" (amazing is an understatement) and a young guy who adapted "Save a Horse Ride a Cowboy" to "Save a Breast Walk 60 Miles." He danced as well. Amusing.
I did make a visit to the medical tent and had 2 of my blisters lanced (which after the fact I was advised by medical professionals is a big no-no).
Early to bed (9:00 I think!) in our hot pink tent we went. Who would've thought sleeping in a sleeping bag on an astroturf field would be comfortable, but it wasn't half bad. Until the snoring started... it wasn't until Sunday morning when we were packing up that we discovered the identity of the mystery snorer... an elderly gentleman.
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Saturday morning started out fine. We started going downhill (the same hill we came up the afternoon before) which seems way easier than going uphill, but it really isn't all that easy, especially when you're walking in a single file line taking very little steps on very hurting feet (for whatever reason giant steps feel so much better when your legs hurt).
The route continued through the towns of Belmont and Arlington. All I can say is HOLY HILLS! These hills made Benham Street in Hamden look like a speed bump. The only thing that helped us through this were the random cheering stations set up on the hills. These weren't official cheering stations, but they were manned by the Pink Angels and Granite Angels (just to name two) who were stocked up on candy, freezy pops and energy. I kept plugging until lunchtime, when I made the mistake of taking my shoes off and going to the medical tent to have my blisters looked at. My feet were bright red and I compared my toes to my Aunt Trudy's cocktail weenies. I couldn't walk any more.
Tears in my eyes, I got on the SAG bus (which apparently stands for Supplies and Gear, although it transported people not gear), and was welcomed aboard by a crew member wearing a grass skirt, coconut bra and lei. She handed me a special pin to commemorate my arrival into camp on the bus. I felt like I was letting everyone down. All the people back home that had donated to me and were cheering me on, following my status updates on my facebook page. When I announced that I wasn't walking anymore for that day the support that I received was overwhelming. Everyone told me to shake it off, and that they were still proud of me. While it made it easier to hear the words of support it made me feel worse at the same time because I felt like all these people could be supportive of me and my difficult decision to stop walking, but I couldn't "try" that extra little bit to make it the last 7 miles that day.
I felt bad about sending Amanda off after lunch on her own. But she seemed to do just fine without me. Leave it to her to find not just one, but two Airwomen. She walked with both of them, through the rest of the 7 miles, including Lexington (yes, as in Lexington and Concord) where the Minute Men were out to cheer on the walkers, complete with artillery. Even though Amanda didn't get into the cheering station in time to see them in formation , she saw one when she was turning the corner, he was just randomly walking down the street.
The one good thing about returning to camp on the SAG bus is that you get there around 3:00, which is way earlier than any other normal walker gets in, so there's no lines for the foot massagers or the Energizer booth to recharge your cell phone. So I guess it wasn't completely bad after all.
That night after our dinner of chicken, rice, and vegetables, we were entertained by Candy Coburn. She sang some covers, some originals, and closed her show with her single "Pink Warrior" (which all the proceeds go to Susan G. Komen), and then we had our camp show, where they taught us how to fold up our tent the next morning (and get it back into it's itty bitty bag) and then probably the most touching part of the evening. The Youth Corps, a group of 10-15 year old kids, got up and shared with us why they're there helping out. These kids were amazing and most of their stories brought tears to our eyes. Particularly one little girl who shared that her mom was diagnosed with breast cancer when she was only 4 years old, and passed away when she was only 8. Being the mother of an 8 year old girl, this really brought it home to me. At 13, she was taking matters into her own hands and fighting alongside us to make sure other little girls didn't lose their mothers.
The night in the tent was pretty uneventful, with the exception of a brief rainstorm at 2 am, which probably wouldn't have even registered on our radar if everyone and their brother didn't get up and start adjusting their rain flaps and tarps.
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Sunday morning we were up and at 'em bright and early, we got dressed, packed up our bags and very carefully followed the directions that Jenne had given us the night before to get our tent back into the itty bitty bag. Thank goodness for Amanda's military experience (and therefore ability to follow directions) and my camping experience. We had that tent down and folded up in under 10 minutes and were off to breakfast (which was probably the worst meal we had in our entire 3-Day experience... cold eggs, 'nuf said).
We hit the road early, eager to get a jump start on the balance of the 60 miles that lay ahead. Down that same hill as the previous day (ouch!) and made our way to the first pit stop, where we found a bench to take care of our feet. This is when we formally met George. We had used George the entire day before as a "pacesetter." You see, George announces his arrival at every pit stop, and also announces his departure. A great big "Honey, I'm Home" lets you know he's there, and "Hitch Up The Wagons and Move Em Out" lets you know when it's time to get your butt back in gear.
George quite literally walks softly and carries a big stick. He sat down next to me on the bench and started handing me gauze, ointment and bandages (I was so unprepared for the toll this walk would take on my feet). He then showed us his socks. They were Nike Dri-Fit, and made with cushioning specific to each foot. He said his goal as he went out everyday was to not land his butt in the medical tent, for fear that they wouldn't let him finish. George has done this walk for 7 years.
After some more hills, we landed at our pit stop at MIT, sitting on the lawn overlooking the Charles River, we sat, changed our socks and refueled, before moving on. I knew what was waiting for me in around 2 miles... My mom, cousin Jenny and Morgan... I just had to keep going til I could get to Boston Common. Across the Charles we went.
We passed through some of the most beautiful and peaceful parts of the city, didn't take many photos because the sidewalks in the historic parts of these cities are quite uneven. Throughout Boston Common, we were greeted by cheerleaders, small children handing out pink lemonade and freezy pops (can you tell how much I love those freezy pops?)... it occurred to me that children are really amazing, I mean really. They sat out there on a very hot day and cheered their little hearts out. Holding homemade signs, and clapping, these kids kept on smiling. If they are our future, I can assure you that we are all in good hands. And bravo to their parents for encouraging them to participate in something greater than themselves in such an amazing way.
We crossed the street from Boston Common to Boston Public Gardens and I instantly found Annie, Jenny and Mo!
I think I hugged that child harder than I've ever hugged her before in her life. The three of them accompanied us to our pit stop, where they got a little taste of what we had experienced over the prior 48 hours. The cheering crew members, the food and beverage stands, the medical tent and, of course, the port-o-potties.
We left the girls behind, with only 2 things on our mind, the lunch stop (then about 4 miles away) and holding (about 7 or so miles away). We knew we could do it. After passing through downtown Boston and yet another Pit Stop, the crowd separated a bit (thank God for the directional signs throughout the route) and we were walking almost alone (if you don't count the 3 "gentlemen" behind us who were discussing which "gentlemen's clubs" in the Boston area had the best food - don't worry, they were not with us), when out of nowhere a bird shit on Amanda's head. Knowing I had wet ones in my bag I began searching for them in my bag... and of course came up short. So we had to use a tissue and some hand sanitizer. It was quite amusing and disgusting at the same time. She handled it in a much calmer manner then I would have. I certainly would've complained about it for the next few hours, and told everyone we met about it.
Through a quaint little neighborhood we went, frozen grapes were handed out from the foot of someone's Brownstone steps, and we turned the corner to find, guess what, yep, you've got it, another hill... I believe the words that came out of my mouth were "you've gotta be effin kidding me" only I didn't say "effin" I chose to use the entire word. But over the top of the hill, almost as if it was an oasis, was the lunch stop. Across the street from a beach in South Boston we sat on a grass covered hill with our sandwiches while our feet sat covered in ice packs. Sunday's lunch turned into Amanda's turn at the medical tent. She needed to have her knee wrapped by the professionals at the sports medicine tent. Because she was in good shape (compared to the others waiting in line) they put her to work. She had to make more ice packs for them to distribute to those of us who just needed some quick relief. Once she was wrapped up it was time to set out on the last 3 miles of our journey.
The last few miles were beautiful and challenging at the same time. We walked past the beach and across the boardwalk. Some people stopped to cheer us on, but for the most part the people on the beach were too involved in their own little worlds and their respective beach days to even notice we were walking by them. As we hit the sign that said there was only one mile to go, we knew we were in the home stretch. In case we forgot though, the Pink Angels were in place with just about 1/2 mile to go. Cheering us on and collecting their teammates. They all waited there so that they could enter the finish line and the "holding" area together as one team. We got a little bit further and met the Men with Heart. Lining both sides of the road, they were cheering us on to the last little bit of the route that was left. So much energy for the end of what was a very long day.
As we entered the gym at UMass Boston, we were greeted by our fellow walkers creating a victory tunnel of sorts. They were cheering us on and hi-fiving us, welcoming us into the holding area. We went into the hockey rink and picked up our Victory T-Shirts. (White for walkers, Pink for Survivors, Grey for Crew members). And we then took our positions in the line-up, waiting to congratulate and welcome our fellow walkers into the area. The energy in the room was amazing. Especially when the final walker entered the gym.
After a little bit of time (maybe an hour or so) in the holding area, we were escorted out to the area in front of the library. We paraded through a line of family members and friends who had spent hours standing there waiting for us, just to catch a glimpse and let us know they were there, cheering us on, driving us forward.
We entered the closing ceremony, much like we did the opening. There were some differences, but mostly the same. It was perfect to have the whole thing come full circle. The flag was raised "A World Without Cancer" and we welcomed in the survivors.
I am glad to be home, but I will never forget that one weekend and how much it changed my life forever.
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