Walking Chicago

This is what I pack to walk 40 miles in the Avon Breast Cancer (not the Susan G. Komen) walk.  40 friggin' miles.  Those shoes? They have lots of miles on them with all the training walks that have been done.

I don't like walking 40 miles.  I am in Chicago now, tomorrow and Sunday for this walk.  For the first time (this is my fifth walk) I am alone to do this, pretending that is ok.  I know I will meet 1000's of new friends tomorrow and right now it is just the emotional start of the whole thing.

Thinking of all the women I know that have fought breast cancer keeps me walking in these damn things.  I have to raise $1800 just as an entrance fee and my friends have been loyal and generous.  I set my goal high and have reached it.  The humbling effect of the willingness to give to me year after year is immense and I do not take it for granted.  Every time an email arrives saying 'You Have A Donation"   I am grateful.

This sucks though.  As many survivors that there are,  I do not have my friend Patricia.  Or my colleague Jan.  Or two friends from high school.  I walk to attempt to inch to a cure so others survive--and progress has been made.  

And, tomorrow morning at the crack of too early walkers will be signing names to the balloon obelisk that is there to write messages on--and that is when many cry.  A few minutes later 1000's of amazing people face forward and walk 40 frickin' miles to stop the tears.