Still, I was nervous to make the commitment until I heard from a dear old friend - well, she's all of 35 years old but we've known each other since forever, that kind of old. Nicole tells me she found a lump, it's the Big C and she's headed through the ringer of chemo, radiation and mastectomies. So, what do you do when you're so far away that you can't take her to her appointments or go wig shopping or really do much of anything but share a few tears and send her a mug that reads "Fuck Cancer"? I'll tell you what you do, you agree to raise some money and go on a long walk.
And you share that experience with thousands of others who have also been affected by cancer - any kind of cancer - and are desperate to save every other human being from having to share any part of that experience ever again.
When I first signed up to participate in this event, I was alone...a solo walker feeling more than slightly nervous about the $1800 fundraising requirement to even be allowed to walk. Of course, this didn't last long because two of my local friends joined me and, by the magic of the small-world interwebs, we landed in the midst of one kick-ass group of ladies that is team Walking for the Girls!
It sort of felt like we were all the Wonder Twins activating into the form of a seventeen-strong, compassionately generous sisterhood of supportive, giddy, limping walkers. As a group, we raised over $40,000, which ends up being something like 1/160th of the grand total of $6.4 million raised by the entirety of the Santa Barbara walkers. It feels great knowing that the funds so generously donated by our friends and family will go towards local and national programs to provide education and treatment to underserved communities and uninsured cancer patients, as well as helping to fund clinical studies and research for a cure to breast cancer.
So, yes, it's true! We put one foot in front of the other for two days. We slept in tents and showered in trucks. We ate sack lunches and drank freaky sports drinks. We shared stories and tears. We wore matching shirts with lists too long of names of loved ones affected by or lost to cancer. We collected blisters and aching knees. We were cheered on by awesome support crews. We posed for pictures at mile markers, of which there were many. We laughed at boob jokes, of which there were many more. It was surreal as much as it was authentic, exhilarating as much as it was exhausting, introspective as much as it was a group event.
At the opening and closing ceremonies that book-ended the walk, a two-month cancer survivor named Noelle was given the opportunity to speak. She choked up while telling us that even though this was her sixth time participating in the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer, it was her first time walking as a survivor. Then Noelle bravely announced that, despite having a double mastectomy only one week prior, she walked every step of those 39.3 miles, and it was our turn in the audience to choke up.
In that moment with all those people collectively cheering, crying, aching, touching, smiling, it was truly palpable. "It" being missing my sister, worrying about my friend. "It," of course, being that every person has their own stories of love and loss and hope. It was an experience to be had. And we all shared it, you included.
You can use this link to view the rest of my pictures from the weekend:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2080379&id=1014872934&l=a473ddf942
