The 2010 3 Day Walk for the Cure. Day 1 part 1

Friday August 27th 2010; the first day of the 3 Day.
I hear Jenna tell me that it is 2:40 in the morning in the language we all have at that hour; sleepy English a.k.a. sleepenese. I’m trying to comprehend just how long it has been between this very moment and when I turned off the T.V. It has been 3 hours 10 minutes to be exact. Mental note; my last vision on the tube should not be Saddam Hussein telling Satan how much vegetable oil they went through in bed, especially when you need to get as much sleep as possible in a limited time frame. It tends to make for some confusing dreams. Damn you South Park season 4! (In case you were wondering it was 14 gallons).
As I stumble into the shower, I take a few moments to stand solitary for the water to wake me up, thinking about what I’m about to embark on. It’s been 364 days since I made a commitment to Jenna that I would participate in this event. I remember the exact moment when I made that decision, but I have time to think about that on day 2 when it’s the one year anniversary of my decision, and I have already planned out how I’m going to mark it. Right now I have to focus on getting my mind and body ready for today. Van Halen’s ‘Right Now’ is now stuck in my head, and that seems to be an ally as I’m finally starting to feel more human.
I walk into the bedroom and start to get ready. Body Glide is the first part of the wardrobe. It helps to prevent the chafing and the blisters on your body and feet. I won’t get into details, but go on a power walk and when you are done, think about where you are developing any uncomfortable chafing, and you will soon understand just how important this stuff really is. After buttering myself up, I look at the shirt I have chosen to wear on this first day. It was a gift from Jenna’s Mother Donna from last year’s 3 Day event in Chicago. It’s a bright Pepto Bismol Pink and on the front of the shirt in bright yellow letters spells out today’s affirmation; CANCER SUCKS. It’s the perfect shirt to wear to get me into the mentality of transforming into a Pink Warrior.
After throwing on the necessary clothing, I start putting on my shoes. At the beginning of my training walks, I wouldn’t be able to put in two miles before I would develop very painful shin splints that would debilitate me to have to hobble back home. These shoes have corrected that problem. They are the most expensive pair of athletic shoes I’ve ever owned, but it was worth it. These shoes have been my transportation on every training walk since May of this year. They’ve enabled me to get stronger with each walk I increased my overall mileage on. Not only that, but this was the pair that Donna bought for me. She bought them when she came out for Jenna’s graduation from nursing school. I’ll never forget what she said to me. She said that “You are walking for me and for others and this is an event that means a great deal to me and my family, and for that it’s the least I can do for you.” I thank God once again for blessing Jenna in my life, and now I thank God for Donna’s big heart and warm generosity. It is only fitting that I start this journey in these shoes and hopefully finish the journey in these shoes.
I see my Uncle stumble by my bedroom door doing the sleeper shuffle on his way to wake up as well. It is starting to sound like we have all gotten the same amount of sleep. I take the opportunity to go over the last minute things I need to pack into our duffle bag while Jenna tears through the kitchen multi tasking the last minute details; filling hydration packs with ice, water and Gatorade while cooking eggs and bacon to make breakfast wraps on our way to opening ceremonies, and making sure we have everything packed into our industrial strength tote. I hope we are going to be able to fit all of this into a Kia Rio.
When Jenna gets into this state, I have learned to just stay out of her way. It’s not that I don’t want to be helpful in assisting her in getting things packed, but she considers herself to be a packing queen and when she has a plan of how she wants things done, she keeps it to herself. I have found out the hard way if I try to get involved it only causes problems in the same vein that moving brings people closer together. For now, I’m on a need to know basis; if she needs me, she’ll let me know.
We notice that we are running behind. Jenna has to be at opening by 4:00 AM since she is a medical/crew captain and the clock is reading 3:20 and we haven’t even hit the 24 hour McDonald’s for coffee yet. We would prefer Starbucks but the closest 24 hour Starbucks to us is a hop, skip, jump, walk, jog, run, sprint, drive, and flight from our abode, and it’s almost $3 more than the coffee offered at Mick D’s. It’s a no brainer here.
We haul out all of our gear to the curb and my Uncle begins to strategically put the items in the trunk of a car the size of a roller skate, and he succeeds at it with a little room to spare. We both used to manage space. That’s right. We both MANAGED SPACE! Which is why he drives a roller skate and I drive a car that has tires in the literal sense. They are round and were once made of rubber. That’s how well managing space pays.
We’re loaded up, and now it’s time to hit the road with Jenna continuing to display her mad multi tasking skills by making breakfast wraps in the backseat of a Kia Rio which consist of scrambled eggs, and bacon in a whole wheat wrap; the breakfast of champions. We roll through the McDonalds drive thru to see that a sign has been posted on the display screen that orders cannot be taken at the drive thru menu area and we are instructed to pull around to place our order directly at the window. We are confused by this for two reasons; One, the monitor appears to be working, displaying images in color, and in HD quality nonetheless, and two, if you can still hear our order through the drive thru speaker, why can’t the person inside taking the order listen to what we want and take and process the order to his co-workers that are responsible for making the order, especially when it only consists of a drink order? I look at the clock on the car stereo and it reads 3:37 AM. It’s too early to try to explain logic to the graveyard shift at a McDonalds. Just give us the damn coffee!
At 3:40 our drinks arrive. One large Diet Coke and three medium sugar free vanilla iced coffees which are in fact are LARGES. Jenna checks the receipt and we were charged for mediums on the coffees. I guess there are benefits for other people’s mistakes/incompetence. Perhaps they took pity on us that we had to give our order to them face to face and not through a squawk box. Jenna says the one thing that is on my mind as I begin to sip 48 oz of chilled caffeinated goodness. ‘God bless that McDonalds.’
As we pull into the Colorado Mills parking lot, we are directed through a mini obstacle course to get in line to unload our cargo. As I step out of the car I set the drink carrier on the roof of the roller skate to assist in pulling out our gear out of the trunk. As Jenna grabs her hydro pack she turns to grab the drink carrier off of the roof in which the third iced coffee designated for our caffeine addicted friend Chris, has decided to make a break for it and spring from the carrier and jump to its untimely demise on the black asphalt, and partially on Jenna’s leg. I look at the horror as I sip the last of my coffee. I hope that this isn’t a sign of things to come.
We grab our gear and start transporting it to the gear trailer when we are met by a young crew member who volunteers to take our gear from the point where we are at and transport to trailer X. Jenna gives me a kiss and tells me she needs to go see who out of her crew has arrived at this point, and my Uncle heads back to park the roller skate. I sling my hydro pack over my left shoulder and head towards the area where opening ceremonies are to take place and take a moment to look around and take everything in.
There are two large semi trailers parked on each side of the stage. The first trailer I see has the mission statement of the Susan G. Komen Foundation The statement reads “Everyone Deserves A Lifetime” with a photo of an African American woman smiling with pride and happiness to the right of the statement as she is walking. The trailer to the left of the stage displays the Susan G. Komen 3 Day For The Cure logo with a pink ribbon emblazoned to the right of it and to its left a photo of a young woman wearing a pink bandana on her head with her face beaming a wide smile looking towards the sky carrying a pink boa as she crosses the finish line of her journey.
I decide to delay taking this in for a moment and walk across the parking lot towards the area that are dominated by white canopies. One is designated for late check in walkers, one is a place to purchase merchandise from the 3 Day store. I look for my Uncle and the roller skate to rendezvous with him. I see a vehicle I recognize and notice it is our friend Chris who is pulling into crew the event. Chris is a member of The Hooter Scooters, which is our team name. Chris was originally scheduled to walk this journey with me, but due to the economic climate, our fundraising resources were not enough to meet her minimum and she could not walk. However, she has been able to crew, so the effort was not a loss.
I meet her at her car and we take a few minutes to share the events of the previous night and our morning up to this point. I then have the task of regretfully informing her that her extra grande sugar-free iced coffee decided to commit suicide rather than fulfill its mission which was to provide creamy iced goodness for the sake of alertness. Being the kind hearted person that she is, Chris understands. I can’t say I would have been as understanding that early in the morning.
Jenna finds us and gathers us to meet up with the other crew members on our way over, I see my Uncle making his way across the parking lot with two cameras hanging off of his neck. I meant to start a pool taking guesses at how many pictures he would snap during his time here, but the coffee has yet to enter my bloodstream. We meet up with Michael, Monica, and Barry along with some other members of the Pink Mafia. Michael to this point is dressed up the most to this point sporting the pink hat and earring, but that is tame for him as everyone will discover later on this afternoon.
My Uncle meets the group and asks the group to assemble for some group pictures and then assembles us in front of the large pink sign that says ‘Inspired’. Jenna and I take a snapshot together, and then we have Michael and Monica join us for a group photo. After the photo op, I then break away to take some time to read the illuminated pink balloons with the mission statements. I grab my camera and take pictures of every one. ‘Grow the community-Share the love-Walk with a stranger’. Another one says ‘Cheer A lot-Give each other the hero treatment on the route and in camp. ‘Kindness rocks-Go the extra mile and make someone smile’. The thought that immediately enters my mind after reading these is ‘I wish these balloons were posted everywhere across this country. Perhaps we would be in a better place as a society.’
I then come up to a white canvas tapestry highlighted with pink dots. At the top of the canvas is the word ‘Imagine’. This is where you can write down your goals are for this event. I walk over to a table and take a sharpie and write ‘For my Aunt Beth, and to become a 60 mile man.’ I place this pink dot just below the word Imagine. Now I’m getting focused. I then walk by another table where white strips of paper are sprawled out across the table. It is a flag that they will raise at opening ceremonies to remember the fallen. I write down the names of the fallen who have impacted me. Grandma, Betty, Barb, Janet.
On the stage, the PA system is playing some ambience music, mostly songs to inspire and make a person think of the reasons why they are here. I step up to the guardrail of one of the black and pink Komen inflatables. The guardrail has pink banners hung from it with the “Everyone deserves a lifetime” mission statement. Amy Grant’s ‘I Will Remember You’ is now playing on the PA system. I stretch my arms along the railing, bow my head, close my eyes and I begin to pray.
I thank God for his grace and love that I’m healthy enough to participate in this event. I pray for the health of each and every walker participating in this event and ask that he shines his grace upon all of us on every step of the route of every day, and that each walker may be blessed to reach their goal that they have set for themselves. I pray for courage, strength, and the endurance to fight when exhaustion wants to prevent me from achieving my goals. I also pray that I may meet many people in this event that will make an impact on me in a positive way, that I perhaps can make a new friend or two along the way and that the Pink Mafia may continue to grow in numbers.
“Knowing how you made me laugh. Sweet echoes of you from the past. I will remember you” As I hear Amy Grant sing that verse, I continue my prayer. I pray that the spirits of those we are walking for are walking along with us on our journey. I pray that my Grandmother Betty walks with me. I pray that my Aunts Barb, Betty and Janet are walking with me as well, and that I can carry their spirit along with me. I pray that my Aunt Beth will know that she is on this journey as well and that she knows that I’m doing this for not only her, but for all of them as well as Jenna’s Mother Donna who is a survivor. I walk for the friend’s whose lives were impacted by this disease by losing a member of their family. “I Will Remember You” Amen. I open my eyes and feel a peace within me. I’m ready to start this journey.
Dawn is filling the Mills parking lot and the place is now a sea of pink. I see humanity of every walk of life. A fit guy wearing a Mr. April sash and a pink Mohawk, which prompts me to remember that, I have forgotten one element to complete my pink warrior ensemble. I run over to Jenna and she breaks out the pink dye and dyes my goatee an obnoxious shade of pink, but it’s not obnoxious to these individuals.
People are beginning to stretch out their bodies and are getting ready for the start of the journey, and taking a cue from them, I begin to do the same. After warming up, I then file into the holding area in front of the stage for the beginning of the opening ceremonies. I am starting to feel a little like a stranger in a strange land once again. There are many people here who are assembled teams, and I am a solo walker, because all of my teammates are part of a crew.
I take a look to my left and see a group of six women. They are all wearing pink chiffon skirts with teal tank tops. Some are wearing bandanas while others are wearing little pink cowboy hats. Each one of them is wearing a sheriffs badge on their tank top next to their team name which is ‘Titty Titty Bang Bang’ I take advantage of the photo op. I love women that have a sense of humor.

Then, a booming voice fills the PA system that announces the national spokesperson for Susan G. Komen 3 Day Walk for the Cure, Jean Fromme to the stage. She gives the Denver crowd an enthusiastic good morning and then begins to motivate us with some stretching exercises to, quote Hans and Franz, ‘Pump us up!’ Then she begins to speak to the crowd and remind us all why we are there. As we listen, I begin to see people carrying flags file onto the stage, down the center walkway and around the holding area.
The flags are numerous, and they all have one word on each of them. ‘Birthdays’ ‘Anniversaries’ ‘Dreams’ ‘Discoveries’ ‘Generations’ etc. These are the reasons WHY we are walking. Then another group of ladies walks onto the stage this time carrying pink flags. They all walk down the center walkway towards the center of the ceremonies to a white platform with a flagpole which is called ‘The Survivor Ring’. Once again, each flag has one word on it. ‘Father’ ‘Mother’ ‘Daughter’ ‘Aunt’ ‘Sister’ etc. This is WHO we are walking for.
As the survivors make their way onto the stage, they place the flags in the holders around the ring and then turn towards the flagpole and surround it. The spokesperson then asks us to think of who and why we are walking and as the flag of white paper strips with all of the names of the fallen on them fly in the cool mountain breeze, we all say the name of why we are there. I say Beth’s name even though she is a survivor. I would have said the names of those I had written on the paper, but they were too numerous.
As Jean makes her closing remarks, the survivors all turn towards the huddled pink masses and raise their arms in victory to show that this weekend will be one of victory, of triumph, of awareness, and of hope. We then get the green light to make our way out of the holding area and begin our walk. I follow to the left of the stage and as we walk in single file, I look up to notice the flags of why we are walking are the gateway to our journey. Every member of all of the crews; medical, safety, etc is lined up. Every one of them cheering us on, wishing us good luck, and giving us all high fives and pats on the backs or shoulders. As I make my way down the line, I see Jenna with her pink Energizer bunny ears on her head. She gives me a big kiss and tells me ‘Good luck baby! I love you!’ We turn east and walk through the gate where a crew member scans our credential badges. The journey has begun.