Holy Cow - Part 2

60 miles.  What exactly does it take to walk 60 miles?  #1, training: if you want to feel good.  #2, friends: if you want to feel happy.  #3, water, Gatorade, and snacks, snacks, snacks: if you want to finish.  #4, sunscreen and a big hat: if you are pasty and paranoid like me.  And it sure helps to have a never ending cheering section, and toilets every hour.  Plus camp at the end of every day for showers, food, and lots of company.  Plus the fact that everyone was on an event high didn't hurt at all.  We were all in it together, and we tried our darnedest to make it a good time.  Follow the jump cut for photos and more....

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Day 1 started with Opening Ceremonies.  All of us (2,400) squashed into a big holding pen with a stage up front.  Before they opened the gate, however, we dropped off bags, met with friends, got coffee (at least I did), and signed the names of those we'd lost to be lifted up on a flag.  It was early, it was dark, and I was rather nervous.  I was going with veterans, and I wanted to hold up my end of the team.  We strategically made it up towards the front of the pen, so we could start walking soon after the ceremonies were over.  The ceremony was very inspiring and loud, with music, and more flags, and honored survivors.  It put us in the mood to remember everyone touched by breast cancer, and get ready to give it our all with our feet.  As we left the pen we were scanned out, so they would know where each one left and how many were really there.  And we started walking.  And walking.  And walking.  A river of pink through Minneapolis suburbs.

2,400 is a hard number to grasp.

Just think big.

 On day One we quickly made it to the Minneapolis "Lakes", and had a lovely morning of breezes and lake homes.  The going was not tough, and I quickly settled in to enjoy the walk.  I have never been much for super huge events, usually sticking to off beat individual and small group situations.  This was different, but very cool.  Our team had trained on the Lakes, so I was in familiar territory.  I still had some paranoia because Jen had been felled by dehydration on our biggest training weekend, the morning of day two after 21 miles the previous day.  I figured if it could happen to her, it could certainly happen to me.  So I drank my water, and Gatorade too.  If you have never experienced the stuff, you might not know that it makes you pee like a race horse.  I was almost always in need when the next pit stop came into view, especially with my morning coffee habit.  I had tried one big training day without it, and the resulting headache made extra bathroom time seem worth it.  

It really wasn't as bad as this looks (and a good time to stretch).

After the Lakes we made it to our first big Cheering Station.  These are set up by the event as places for your family and friends to come, to reduce too many people stalking the whole event and running over people in the process.  There had been plenty of cheering people anyways, but the station was intense.  People lined both sides of the path with cow bells, signs, clappers, clapping, and candy, candy, candy.  Some were one stop supporters, others we would see again and again.  It was great.  They were a real boost, and the sugar was nice too.  I had been advised to carry very little because the 60 mile buffet would provide, and provide it did.  We got to lunch next, and I should have saved more room.  Too bad they would not let us eat in the Sculpture Garden, but we crossed an artsy bridge and lunch was set at the very nice Loring Park.  Sue's husband Jim brought us an extra special lunch from their home just a few blocks away.  Holly and Pamela joined us and we had a real team lunch.  The innocent looking clouds cut things a bit short by unexpectedly down pouring on us, and all the event walkers got drenched.  There was just no way to keep feet dry, so it was going to be a good test of their toughness.  We got moving in the rain, after many quick thanks to Jim.  It rained all through downtown, and we were splashing through small lakes at times.  Then the clouds rolled away and it got HOT.  Into the 90's with blazing sun.  We squished our way in soggy shoes through downtown, across the U of M campus where Jen and I had been roommates, and on up the Mississippi river.  Memory lane and best forgotten stories kept us all amused, as some around us started limping.  It was a long road along the river, and seemed to all be uphill.  The Pedi-Cure van was kept busy with those needing a lift, and we started looking very forward to the finish of the day.  By the time we hit it at Macalester College in St. Paul, and were scanned once again, we were very ready for the air conditioned buses that whisked us away to camp.  I had a bad brush with pain on the bus when I tried to stretch my quads, and came up with a hamstring cramp that nearly dropped me to my knees.  I drank lots more water and went very slowly before trying that again.  That was the worst of the day, and not a single blister had visited any of our team.

Camp was a trip.  Just imagine well over 2,000 walkers and volunteers bunking for the night.  Showers were set up in the backs of semis.  The dining tent sat thousands.  The line for free massage was way too long, but at least the yoga mats were accessible.  Everyone was just giddy, except the sizable percentage still limping, but they still had many smiles.

This was only a portion of the tents.

After a long day on the road both Jen and Holly were a little goofy.  

Pamela too.

 20 miles down, 40 to go...  Nothing much to think about except, eat, drink, sleep, and smile.

Holy Cow- 60 Miles is a Long Way

One month ago I was at the start of a grand adventure.  60 miles of walking in 3 days.  60 Miles!  It was an incredible.  First off, I have to thank all the people who donated to the cause.  Breast Cancer is an awful, terrible, horrible illness, and it is on the rise.  The whole point of this walk is to save lives.  Period.  "Because everyone deserves a lifetime" is the official motto, and that is so true.  The money raised goes in two directions, breast cancer research and breast cancer awareness.  We raised a ton of cash, and that rocks.   We also raised awareness, and inspiration, which are not measurable but key to the whole deal.  Women power is an awesome thing!  Each woman participating was required to raise over $2,000, and there were well over 2,000 of us.  There were a few men walking too, and boy did they have fun.  They were celebrities.  I think the coolest thing about the whole event was the attitudes of each and every person.  Personal differences were put on hold, the every day grind was forgotten, there was no competition to look good or be the best, no judgment, we were one. And the focus was intense.  One foot in front of the other, and give everyone else all the support you can.  The positive vibe kept us walking on air.  And it was all personal determination, because there was no external pressure to finish.  There were sweep vans cruising the course constantly to help anyone out who was in trouble, and no shame in finishing early.  Because of that we all pushed harder.  Complaints were the exception, not the rule.  And the volunteers and supporters ROCKED.  There were many sad stories, of course, but it wasn't a bummer of an event.  Everyone was remembered and held up, no one was forgotten.

So, what was it like?  Well, let's start with my team.  First there was Jen.  Jen was my college roommate, in my wedding, and my son's god mother.  She lost her mom to breast cancer 15 years ago, and she has done this event every year.  60 miles, seven years in a row.  Amazingly inspiring.  Next there was Sue.  She is friends with Jen, has lost several dear ones to cancer, and is determined to walk as long as there is no true cure.  She started the year after Jen, but then did two walks in one summer a few years back so also had seven walks under her belt.  How could I not do well with such a power house team??  As for me, Jen inspired me to join the team, as well as all the women in my life who are survivors, and those I have known who didn't make it. All together, the walkers and the inspiring, we went together.  Our team also had two crew members who put in countless hours preparing and fund raising, as well as tireless event support over four days.  Pamela was a walker, then was diagnosed herself just before her wedding last year.  She is currently in treatment and I have no idea how she has so much energy.  Holly is a fantastic supporter who has crewed every year that Jen has walked.  There is also a strong support network in the Cities of friends, family, and spouses, who helped fund raise, trained with us, brought food, were drivers for the weekend, and did countless things to help make it all happen.  Thank you all!

Sue, myself, and Jen, all geared up and ready to go.

Holly and Pamela, with their Pedi-Cure Cab.  Prepared to cruise the course and picking up anyone needing a lift.

We were ready.  We had each trained over 250 miles over the summer, we had our gear dialed, we were well hydrated and supplied.  The Pedi-cure van had it's snacks, water for any riders, and the perfect attitude.   And then we started walking!

What I Did With My Summer Vacation

Hello
I am busy remembering how to blog.  T'was a crazy summer and the hit list will just have to wait.  Just wanted to jump onto the blog to prime the pump a bit.  I get overwhelmed sometimes (all the time?) and get myself into a tizzy thinking I will be stuck forever going in circles.  I don't have to do it all at once, and everything could be much worse.  Life is actually excellent, everyone is healthy, employed, and moving forward.  I spent my summer vacation in pursuit of a goal, and I accomplished that.  I walked my 60 miles and compiled and gave away over $3,300 in the fight against breast cancer.  Now, as I return to my regularly scheduled life, I can re-organize and prioritize.  Right?

In His Own Time

I have worried about Alex and his swimming for many years now.  Not a big worry, but a little one that sits in the back of my brain and whispers sweet paranoia to me.  "He's not progressing.",  "He doesn't swim like the other kids.", "Look, he wont even put his head under water.", "Ha, he hates it when you try to teach him to swim... he will never learn.".  Now, I have not put a lot of stock in these whisperings, but I can't deny that they have been there.  Alex went to swim lessons a summer ago and was truly lack luster.  His biggest accomplishment was doing the monkey cling along the deep end, and occasionally getting his chin wet on purpose.  One of his best friends was going all the way under water when she was two, and by now has practically swum the English Channel.  Alex is generally a cling-on, not letting go of me for much of anything.  Yes, that is the summary of his swimming at age 2, and 3, and 4, and 5.  This summer things got a little better, "swimming" in his life jacket, actually enjoying the water, and venturing a bit beyond my shadow from time to time.  He played a shark game at his Aunty Snootz' pool that had him swimming all over in his life jacket, and then last month in Wausau he went under water on purpose and for real for the first hundred times.  He was inspired by his Uncle Craig, Aunt Kathy, and cousins Will and Abby.  Yes, it takes a village to get my kid swimming.  But yesterday we were in Amity Creek, and I couldn't get him to go five inches from me or swim a stroke on his own.  

And then came this evening.  This evening was jackpot time.  First, Lake Superior was warm.  Not tolerable, not just-less-than-freeze-your-butt-off, but actually bath water warm.  Last week it was frigid.  I didn't really want to go tonight but figured it would be a nice quick trip.  Oh, how wrong I was, and happy to say so.  It was warm, warm, warm.  We swam out to the rock, climbed the rock, and Alex jumped from ankle deep into a deep spot (with life jacket on) after announcing, "To infinity and beyond!".  He also watched the high school boys swim deep and bring up big rocks.  It made an impression because when I made him come into the shallows he started trying to pick up rocks.  After working hard at swimming with his face in the water.  I could barely believe what I was seeing.  I was happy.  I was ready to head home for dinner.  I took his life jacket off so he could pick up a few rocks and we could go.  To my great surprise and delight he dunked under water, and stayed under, and SWAM under water, popping up with ease and starting all over again.  And again, and again.  He did not go over his head, but he did not have to.  He swam, and swam, and swam.  He cruised the shore line at about 3 feet deep, checking out rocks, staying parallel, turning back if he went to far or turned a little towards the deeps.  He did not do it because a teacher asked him to.  He did not do it because I begged, or threatened, or bribed.  He did it because he wanted to.  Because it delighted him.  Because it was fun.  He swam, and twirled,  floated, and snuck up and grabbed my foot under water.  He even swam between my legs when I was talking with a friend who showed up.  That made us both laugh really hard so he did it another five times.   He swam and swam, we were late for dinner, and he assured me that he very much wants to do it again tomorrow. 

Still Walking

Wow, I can't believe I have not posted since June.  I was walking then, and still walking now.  I had just completed my first nine mile walk, now I am up to 18 miles at a pop.  Every week, two days a week, long walks back to back with ever increasing mileage.  That 18 miles took me 5 hours of walking, and over an hour of fluff.  You know, bathroom breaks, stretching, snacking, and chatting.  I have run across an old friend named Jackson who was on the Lakewalk from Hawaii, our amazing speech therapist Tahirih on Park Point by the Lift Bridge, her daughter the next week at their house on the other end of the Point, a nice author named Carol in town to lecture (Go Fill A Bucket), a guy from Ireland on a cross country bike trip, my buddy Sally who lives two hours away, and an interesting veteran with a cool walking stick.  All accidental meetings throughout the weeks. I have also seen an eagle on a garage roof (huge), two different spike bucks in velvet, a fawn, squirrels, bunnies, a fox, a turkey vulture akimbo at the top of a white pine on a hot day, and about a million lbb's (little brown birds).  Plus the Loch Ness Monster down in the Cities.  I am set to see her a lot this weekend as I go down for my big training weekend.  Forty two miles to walk, and about a zillion trips around the Lakes.  I am sure to see her on Lake Calhoun where she hangs out.  And I might even see the Troll that has a little house in a tree down there.  I hopefully wont pass out from the heat.  I am pretty sure I can make the miles since I have now walked all of Skyline Parkway (26 miles).  I have found that it keeps me very amused to be able to check out different houses and yards and gardens, plus the occasional detour into a park.  I need to train on pavement so I have only hiked the zillion trails in town occasionally.   I have discovered many favorite sites in town, and know all the best bathroom stops with water.  Block by block there is a lot of scenery change.  And I found I like to walk one hour before stopping for a bagel and coffee to go.  There are conveniently two bagel/coffee shops in two different directions exactly 3 miles each from my house.  Who knew?  The world looks a lot different when you are walking, and even more different when you are walking alone for five hours.  I thought I would have to resort to electronic entertainment such as MP3 or radio or borrowed iPod, but I made it just fine.  I guess I am more amuseable than I thought.  I will have to wait for another post to consider what profound things I have learned from this portion of the experience, next I have my big training weekend and in two more weeks the Walk itself.  It's all Team time from here on out and I guess I will miss my solitude a little, but not too much.  Cheers.

More Good News

What a great summer.  Alex has been at "summer camp" Mondays through Thursdays since June.  I was worried because there is no assistant, but it is the preschool program he attended for a year, and his teacher is still there.  She and the rest of the staff assured me they could handle him, and boy were they right.  He has been coming home and teaching me new games and new songs.  I have learned all about Toilet Tag and Fishy Fishy Cross My Ocean, as well as Flag Flag Firecracker.  He is doing all the things this summer of six that I hoped he would be doing back in his five year old pre-school year.  He is interacting with kids, following complicated verbal directions from teachers, coming up with new and interesting things to say and do, and generally being a kid in a pre-school program.  He does not have bad behaviors because he does not understand and cannot communicate in the typical way.  No more rolling on peers as a way to interact, or pulling hair as a worse way to interact.  No more blank stares when asked what he did that day.  He does not need someone to sit right next to him to keep him on task, or even remaining in the circle.  He does still flap his hands when excited, and talk in a mostly routine way about the things He wants to talk about (storms, tornados, lightening, and red lights), but he is willing to change the subject when led that way.  And he is happy.  Truly happy, smiling, and having fun.  He even teases the teachers a little.  We still need to work on in- depth interaction with peers, but it is good enough for the moment that he is all about the games, and songs, and even art projects.  Plus they hike to about two playgrounds a day and sometimes even get to take the bus to outdoor kid shows.  He has embraced it all.  I know we will continue to have attention problems once it is school work mixed in with the fun, but I don't really care.  We'll get there, and I am a very happy camper.  I felt guilty about having him gone so much, but I knew I could not give him the consistent kid exposure and routine he needed.  Plus we have had marvelous adventures Friday - Sunday, with swimming, kayaking, travel, and just swinging in the yard.  Ahhhhh, sweet summer. 

The Days of Pooh

I have loved my son since the day he was born.  Loved him so deeply and fiercely that sometimes it takes my breath away.  Every day in so many ways, it continues to amaze me.  He is always changing.  I remember when he was just a tiny baby at two months old.  That was him.  I could not conceptualize that he would ever change, and when a savvy co-worker gave me 12months and 2T outfits for a shower I panicked.  Those clothes were so big and foreign.  Would he still be adorable?  Would he be a stranger?  How could he ever change so much?  How would I ever know enough to handle such a giant?  Granted I was sleep deprived at the time and rather fragile, but the concerns were real even if the fears were over the top.  

Drop in six odd years later and I have come to terms with a few things.  My son will grow, and change, and still be magic in my eyes.  Some time frames will be good, some time frames will be bad, and we will get through it all with love and life in tact.  That said I am feeling a bit of that old panic tonight.

Tonight was golden.  The evening of Father's Day.  I worked all day and the boys had some marvelous adventures.  When I got home I took our son off Daddy's hands, and took him for a river swim.  We met up with boating friends who all managed to spawn at the same time.  All of different ages, situations, and locales, four families ended up with kiddos traveling the same grade, and we meet up every season or more for various adventures.  Tonight it was taking the kids "swimming" at a bend in the Knife River, a quiet Northwoods spot, not well traveled or much disturbed.  It was the perfect spot for a kindergarten adventure.  They do not need to go far to find adventure.  Being out of sight of the car, and away from the trail is a thrill.  Crossing calf deep water running mildly down rapids was enough for each of them to cling and squeal.  Once we got to the pool with some currant at the far side I took to ferrying the little tykes across a six foot section of chest deep water (for them) so each could scramble up near the cliff wall.  They would stand dripping and proud, looking about with big eyes, deciding if they wanted to jump back into my arms or just take a hand and try to flounder across.  It was exciting and heart pounding, for kids and adults.  I found myself counting them over and over as we all spread out a bit, making sure the ducklings were safe.  They are still small enough to need that, and they stay close enough for it to be possible.  Not a one strong enough or confident enough to really swim or duck dive in the four feet deep moving water.  Moving lazily in the pool, but still moving, and absolutely impossible to see through.  All my old lifeguard skills perked up.  And I was busy with fun too.

There was much ferrying, but also spins through the water, assisted jumps straight out of the water, traverses below mini-rapids, and piggybacks across the stones.  The little ones are still so tactile.  There was Alex, his best buddy from school Lily, Carver a little blondie, and Elaina the peanut.  Too excited to talk, mostly they would just flounder over and point or gesture where, or what.  They are not quite up to my chest, so my height was a big advantage for their swimming experience.  Plus I was one of the first parents in so I didn't mind getting soaked in the play.  We caught the last of the afternoon sun as we got in the first river swim of the year.  Alex loved it, and I see lots of potential for river or creek swims yet this summer.  Tomorrow is the solstice, and we are just getting started.

And then there is Pooh.  Alex likes to say, "Oh, bother.", when something does not go right, and he often talks about Pooh, and Piglet, and Eeyore.   He wants to know what will happen if he gets blown by the wind when holding onto a string, or if there are Woozles or Heffalumps under the bed.  Sometimes he even says, "Tiddley pom", or "Tut tut, looks like rain.".   Often he says, "Mama, I am rumbly in my tumbly."  And his little friends are right there too.  They are in the age of discovery, wondering at the Hundred Acre Woods.  Innocent as Pooh, scared as Piglet, brave as Tigger.  I saw it in their faces on the river.  Their joy at being there, their dawning realization of the wider world.  Excitement at the splash of water and miracle of swimming skills.  And their exhaustion at the end of the short adventure.  The help needed with wet suits and tired emotions.  The little hands seeking out mom or dad, needing steadiness and strength, wanting warmth and security.  The adventure wrapped up with kids bouncing about in their orbits, and parents making plans.  Then we all parted ways and it was me and my Alex.  My wonderful, innocent, Pooh loving Alex.  And this is where the panic comes in.  I love this age so much I fear the future, where he will not have Pooh as his hero.  When he leaves behind Piglet and takes up with Mario, or a Power Ranger, or something worse.  I wonder if I am destined to be always missing the Age of Pooh.  I wonder if he will change into something totally different as he grows.  I wonder if the real world will tarnish him in a way the Hundred Acre Woods never could.  I wonder if I will be able to keep him safe once he's too big to need to hold my hand.  That is exactly when the world gets it's most dangerous.

But for now he is still in my safe keeping.  I keep a weather eye on him, as do all the other good big people in his life.  I am loving all our adventures, and really do look forward to him growing up so we can go further, and faster, with just as much fun.  Maybe I will get lucky.  Maybe he will always have a soft spot for the silly old bear.  Maybe the world will keep him as safe as I want him to be.  Maybe he will have more good judgment than I ever had.  Maybe the older me will discover like the younger one did, this panic too shall pass.