COURAGE
ISN'T THE ABSENCE OF FEAR; IT'S THE COMMITMENT TO CONTINUE.
COURAGE
ISN'T THE ABSENCE OF FEAR; IT'S THE COMMITMENT TO CONTINUE.
Day 2
20 miles down, 40 to go!
Keep
walking...Stay Alert! Stay Alive!
Day
2 begins! I
sat straight up and announced, “5 more minutes”. Margie asked what I was
doing and when I when said I had heard the alarm, she informed me it was not
ours and that it was only 4:30 am! Although I was tired and wanted to grab a few
more winks, we decided to get up and get an early start.
Margie had brought along a tiny head lamp. It only weighed a few ounces, but provided plenty of light for us inside the tent while we were packing. Another great time saver was packing each day’s clothing in a large Ziploc bag. It was much easier to find what you need inside a tiny 6x6 tent if you don’t have to unpack the whole bag each time you need to find something. We dressed, packed up, and as we dismantled our tent, I hear a loud speaker announcing, “The track is now open for training!”.
Like
a fool and forgetting where I was, I exclaimed, “Yeah, right…. Like were going to train after already walking 20
miles and preparing to walk another 20 today”.
To my surprising reminder,
someone informed me, the announcement was for the horse track! And
to
my amazement we soon found ourselves surrounded
by ponies in training. After a laugh we headed
for breakfast, dropped off our gear and ultimately started on schedule.
Day Two was a a little overcast to start out. We covered a lot of pavement walking
through the peaceful residential neighborhoods of Belmont hills, San Mateo, Hillsborough,
and San Bruno… areas where
I grew up. Day Two I noticed the physical tolls of Day One's walk. Many
walkers are suffering from blisters, sore knees, heat rashes, shin splints, sun
burns - you name it, someone has it. Fortunately, after the massage last night,
I am in good shape. But needless to say, everyone has sore muscles and tends to move
slowly by the end of the day.
No, not my 'boo-boos'
I talked with hundreds of women about why we were crazy enough to be doing this. Our sanity became even more questionable as the days went on but we kept walking and singing and laughing and crying. You just had to be there to understand. The walk was totally awesome. At one point a big man stood alone holding a framed picture of a woman with tears streaming down his face. He kept saying "Thank you walkers". There was the 83 yr old man and his two daughters. He was one of the oldest walkers and this was his third 3 Day Walk - he finished. And the breast cancer survivor and her husband.... she was told she wouldn't live to have children. Her husband was wearing a shirt with a picture of her and their two sons. They were thanking God for sparing her life.... there were many other memories that I hope will stay in my mind and heart.
It was a really long afternoon. We loved the shade trees along the walk. We appreciated every bit of shade. Each step was a little more cautious, each rest stop a little longer, and each stretch a little harder, but we put our bodies on autopilot and just kept going, and going, and going...
After the lunch stop, Margie and I had split up. I didn’t think I’d be able to climb Hillcrest, better known to the walkers as “Hell Hill”. But before we went our separate ways from the lunch pit stop, Margie had found me a walking stick! She then went and waited in a line again to be let out of the holding area. The crew informed us that our campsite at Skyline College was fogged in. Poor visibility and cold temperatures were obstructing the set up of the campsite. For safety reasons the crew was only releasing about 25 walkers at a time to continue the walk.
The “Magic
Carpet” Sweep van picked me up, (decorated in Arabian Nights décor and
attire, Arabian music blaring from the speakers). It
was great to know the "sweep vans"
were around if needed. The sweep drivers run up and down the route constantly,
honking and cheering. We had to give them the "thumbs up" or
"thumbs down" whenever they passed, so they would know whether to
stop. The
amazing thing about it all, was that there was no shame associated with getting
swept. Every walker did their best, and if they could not go the full distance
(reason being irrelevant), the sweepers got them safely to the next pit stop or
into camp, where they were welcomed by those already there in the same manner:
to cheers, hugs, whistles, and encouragement.
Once
we arrived at the bottom of Hillcrest, I said I had to do it! This was part of
the challenge and the journey! Not
that we could ever forget the theme of this event, but the Sweep Vans had signs
such as "Walker for Knockers."
Hesitant to let me out, they did finally drop me off but paced along side of me as I
ventured the 500 foot elevation climb. I was overwhelmed with their support, ensuring
them I was okay, they
cheered me on with words of support. Things
changed quickly as I made my climb.
For
the next 1.5 miles I walked steadily up hill. Very
up hill. I
slowly dragged my bone-tired body up that ungodly incline that stretched on and
up, seemingly forever. About
half up the hill,
I wasn't feeling so good. It was hard to determine whether I needed to just push
through it, or stop. I kept going. Probably
a mistake! I was tired and my legs were weak but I pressed on and with each step
of the way up I could see that I was getting closer to the top. I
went through the motions of retying shoes, sipping water, applying sunscreen,
stretching hamstrings, and adjusting sunglasses... stall tactics to catch my
breath and steel my nerves for the final ascent.
By
day two, the walkers were pretty “crisp” from all of the heat and sun
exposure. A number
of residents of the hill, cheerleaders and fans came out to cheer for us - many
with popsicles, sprayers and misters, bubbles, candy, and water. Someone
had even placed a sign next to their hose encouraging the walkers to help
themselves.
Some had
signs, some had decorated their fences with pink ribbons, some just sat in
camping chairs enjoying their weekend morning coffee.
I enjoyed the luxury of walking through the sprinklers put out by some of the
homeowners along the way.. kids spraying water bottles as I passed by -
that
water felt so good.
Climbing Hillcrest is one of those experiences that defines the whole walk. If you can do this, you feel completely invincible and you can do ANYTHING! It is here, in the middle of this hill I come across a little old lady, bent and slow, whom at first I mistaked for one of the neighborhood residents who had wandered into the crowd of walkers. As I got closer I noticed her Nikes and the credentials hanging around her neck. This was Eva, a 75 year old lady who is walking the distance! Every step!!! She was telling the young ones to pick up the pace, she's not getting any younger, you know.
At last,
after much huffing, puffing, wheezing, stalling, and walking,
I did finally reach the top of
that humongous never-ending hill. Here I am at the top of "Hell Hill".
I'm greeted with a breeze sent straight from Heaven. And the water angels were
at the top of that hill and I was feeling inspired for not taking the sweep van
or giving up.
Once
I reached the top of
Hillcrest, I raised my arms up in VICTORY!
However, my legs weakened and I went to the ground. Next thing I knew the
paramedics were at my side taking my pulse and blood pressure and saying they
would transport me to camp!
I convinced them I had only lost my balance and after some rest, I wanted
to continue walking.
I tried to reach Margie on her cellular to let her know I was at the top. We
agreed I was going to wait for her at the last pit stop but she had also
promised that if she got to camp before me, she’d find our tent and have it
ready by the time I got there.
After reaching the summit, we hiked on the San Andreas Trail overlooking the scenic Crystal Springs Reservoir. Those last few miles seemed very long and endless... down a rocky road, onto Skyline Blvd. and on to Skyline College, Day Two camp. Once I arrived at the last pit stop of the day, I made a quick check to see if Margie was there and then started out again. The weather had suddenly changed from hot and humid to foggy and wet. Finally I arrived at Skyline College and Day Two camp ground.
Margie was already there with the tent set up. The fog had rolled in and the entire camping area was deep in mist, windy and cold. Shivering, befuddled people wrapped in mylar milled about.
We walked back to the mess tent to enjoy the evening entertainment. The evening entertainment was HILARIOUS and GREAT!!! Have you ever been to a karaoke bar? Have you ever been to an outdoor karaoke bar with 4,000 exhausted, slap-happy people? There’s nothing like it.
San Jose’s own Bike Police entertained us with “YMCA”! The coolest part? The fact that the audience, a mob of exhausted, blistered, sore, and hungry walkers, continually got to their feet to cheer on the entertainers. There was even an applause for an encore! (the next day they all said they would deny having done this but there were photos and video!). And who would ever expect to hear a rousing rendition of "These Boobs Were Made for Walking"? We heard the stories of survivors, the sisters who had lost their father, the man who had lost the love of his life after pushing her in a wheelchair through their first 3-Day event together, and who continued to participate in the events in her memory; the doctor who told us what our dollars would do to help his research, and many more. It was amazing to be a part of it all.
I
slipped out for a short time and went to the Remembrance tent. There was a
remembrance quilt that had patches for the walkers to sign in remembrance of a
loved one. I read what everyone else wrote and I cried. I reflected on
the many who have been lost to breast cancer. I thought of my aunt Charlene, who
although survived breast cancer, passed away a few years ago and is greatly
missed. My sister-in-law's mother, Audrey, who lost the battle about a year ago.
I thought of my Aunt Paulette who has survived breast cancer twice, my
cousin, Diana, a survivor; other friends and women and a few men that we have lost, many
young and all missed. There I was able to leave words of encouragement and
personal anecdotes on the quilt.
It was dark when we headed back to camp and we found our tent blowing in the wind (as were the entire sea of tents). Inside our tent, condensation from the rain drips down the sides, but we're warm and snug in our bags. Outside our tent the wind howls. An unoccupied tent was really blowing and one of the poles was blowing into the backside of our tent.
Fearing
the pole would poke a hole in our tent, Margie enlisted the help from some of
the gear crew members to stake it back down. I later learned that the tent had
fully collapsed and thereafter, Margie was able to sleep in peace. The best camping equipment was the Mylar blankets that
were handed out by the crew as the walkers left the San Andreas trail that
afternoon. That foil like blanket kept me unbelievably warm although I looked
like a baked potato.
I did wake up once around midnight and found the camp amazingly quiet, except for the blowing wind. Thousands of people slept, tents spaced literally inches apart, yet I heard no snoring. No sleep talking. No mumbles or cries. No stirring. Just the occasional rustling of mylar blankets, like Snap, Crackle and Pop! Peaceful. I thanked the Lord for the end of another day and the strength He had given me to endure.
continued...
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