Going in to the walk, I knew it was going to be a bit of an emotional roller coaster. However, I really wanted to try and enjoy the experience and celebrate being a survivor. But, in all honesty, it was difficult. I hadn't prepared myself for the ups and downs of my emotions. I thought I would be able to put a smile on my face and power through the walk. What a fool I was.
It was shocking to see people carrying remembrance signs that were for women in their 20's and 30's. I wasn't prepared for the emotions that I felt when I saw those signs. There was a woman who had a sign on her backpack that stated she was walking for a friend who had died just days before the walk.
One lady wearing a pin that said she was walking in honor of her grandaughter who was 10 years old when she was diagnosed. She is currently 15. One simply said "I walk for my wife who died at 35." It made me think of Omar and Little O. Another sign was for a woman who lost her battle at the age of 34. Her initials were TAG and all throughout the walk we would see her family. They would hand out candy and water and tell us we were TAGged by an angel. They made me think about my parents. Both of those times, the "what ifs" took hold of my thoughts. It made me think of the pain and sadness they must have felt and the strength and courage it took them to come and cheer and us on.
Then there were the conversations you overheard. The conversations always started out the same..."Why are you walking?" or "Who are you walking for?" On the second day, I was walking in front of a group of women who were talking about why they were walking. One of them said that she was walking in honor of her sorority sister who had just passed away. They made me think about the day I stood holding hands with two of my sorority sisters as I told the rest of them I had breast cancer. On the last day, as I was trying my hardest to make it up a really steep hill, I heard a lady behind me say, "I walk for the past, the present and the future." I bit my tongue to make sure I didn't just stop right there and cry my eyes out. For some reason, that one sentence just did me in. Such a simple sentence but one with profound meaning.
I walked on my own a lot - sometimes because my mom and aunt were walking pretty fast and I couldn't keep up, but most of the time because I just wanted to be left alone. Left alone with my thoughts and emotions. I was really quiet and a little sad. I shut down. I don't deal well with my emotions. I do what needs to be done, and move on. Unfortunately, I let my emotions get the best of me during the walk which caused me to think about the 1 in 10 chance I have that breast cancer will invade my body once again. (Side note: when my doctor told me I have a 10% chance that my breast cancer would come back, I thought, not bad! Then I realized, oh $#&*, that's like saying I have a 1 in 10 chance. It freaked me out a bit.)
But in between those moments of sadness, there were happy moments. It was uplifting to see soo many individuals, families, kids, dogs, you name it, standing along the walk route cheering us all on. They would hand out stickers, candy, and sometimes, little shots of alchoholic beverages! When people realized I was a survivor, they would cheer extra loud for me and give me "Survivor" stickers. They made me smile and laugh, and they helped the miles go by quicker. Some would say "Thank you for walking," which was a little strange to me, but looking back on it now, I understand. Everyone knows someone who has been touched by breast cancer. Watching hundreds of people who raised a minimum of $2300 walk 60 miles for breast cancer is a pretty good reason to say thank you!
Stay tuned for Part Two of the emotional roller coaster - Closing Ceremony!
