When we got to the starting line bright and early Saturday morning, we were all a bundle of nerves and excitement, our minds on the physical challenge ahead. A competitive person by nature, I was determined to walk every inch of the 39 miles and as fast as possible (we aren't "allowed" to run, or I would have tried). But as thousands of men and women affected by breast cancer gathered together in Golden Gate Park, the real importance of the walk sunk in. I looked around at the pictures of family members and friends attached to backpacks and hats and thought about the loved ones in my life who have been affected by breast cancer.
With a deep breath and linked arms, our team began the walk. With different loved ones in heart and mind, but with a common goal, in the words of the Avon Walk motto, "For One Day, We Walked As One."
Along the route, the Avon Walk kept us fully supplied with snacks and water, which I hoarded like a Depression-era packrat, assuming that I'd really need them around mile 24 (my personal favorite was the peanut and jelly filled graham crackers! Yum!). With 26 miles to cover on Saturday, our team had a lot of time to talk and bond. After we exhausted all the typical topics that arise in conversation with fellow girls (boys, family, work, and boys), we began asking questions that hit a little deeper. My favorite was, "What is one thing you believed as a child that you now know is not true?" The responses were across the board, including "That everyone was married by 25 and had a child by 27," "that everyone was on their own and financially stable by 25," and "that if you exercise, eat right, and take care of yourself, you will never get sick."
Throughout the day, we walked over, under, and through some of the most scenic sites in the Bay Area, including the Golden Gate Bridge, Sausalito, and finishing at Chrissy Field. After 26 miles on Saturday, the most welcome site was seeing the Welcome Village, where we would spend the night in tents. I had the unusual and most welcome experience of showering in a "shower truck," which essentially looked like a big Uhaul truck filled with shower stalls. We got cleaned up, ate a meal of spaghetti, and crawled into our tent for the best night's sleep I've had in a long time.
Up early the next morning, with sore muscles, blisters, and little energy, we trudged on to walk another 13 miles. We climbed Potrero Hill, hiked around Noe Valley, and eventually came within site of the finish line in Golden Gate Park. With tears in our eyes and holding on to teammates for physical support more than emotional, we shuffled along, telling jokes along the way to take our mind off the pain in our legs and feet. We crossed the finish line. All the emotions we had bottled up to make it through the walk came spilling out. Tears of physical pain, emotional strain, and of a vague realization of what we had accomplished together. And for some, tears of closure or loss.
The Walk was an incredible experience I'll never forget. From the bottom of my heart, I thank you for supporting me along the way. Despite my generous use of words in this message, this experience meant more than words can say.
