Tuesday

21 November 2017

We survived.

Over the three days of the 3 Day, the Spouse Thingy and I walked 54 of 60 miles. We found it necessary to cut a couple of miles off each day--we hopped on a shuttle or sweep van--just to assure that we'd be able to either walk the next day, or finish on the third. I think the Spouse Thingy has a new appreciation for what it takes to do these walks, and an understanding now of why people do more than one.

He learned that it's not just hard: it's really hard. He learned he could not only do it, but in the end, it meant a lot and being able to finish feels so freaking good. Also...there's a ton of fun to be had in the agony of all those miles.

Fireball Ski Shot. No, I was not passing that up.
Now, this is posted on the route.

They do not want walkers to drink while participating in the event. And we all get it, we all understand why, but, hey...pain relief, you know.

There is a tremendous amount of community support during the San Diego 3 Day--more than I've ever seen before--and a lot of it involves alcohol. It would be rude to pass it up.

Ok, fine, I'll take the excuse. I did partake once or twice or five times.

A day.

There may be a few pictures of me slugging back 3 or 4 of the multiple-times-per-day offering of Jello shots.

And adult gummy bears.

And pink lemonade vodka.

And holy hell, all the Fireball along the way.

Have I ever mentioned that I freaking love Fireball?

I do.

I was not alone.

There was a lot of beer offered along the way, too, and I took the tiny little cups, but I did not drink any of them.

I gave them the to Spouse Thingy, who enjoys beer.

I won't lie: I got a decent buzz at least once a day. Also: I kinda needed it because I was seriously hurting at a few points, and it was medicinal.

One tiny bit of the support...and all those tents had libations
Shuddup.

It was, too.

No, for real: I enter every walk knowing I'll be starting with the kind of pain most people have at the end of day one. FMS, Myofascial Pain Syndrome, spinal arthritis, as well as hip and knee arthritis. Not to mention what the pituitary tumor did to how my body processes water and the havoc it plays in keeping my electrolytes in check. I have some genuine issues.

Not mentioning that for sympathy, just a reminder that I take this sucker seriously, the walk is that important, and your donations get my asterisk out there in spite of all that.

The fact that it can also be fun is just a bonus.

And this one was amazingly fun. The community support was All That, and doing it with the Spouse Thingy made it that much better.

The icing on the cake? This team:


I've told you before, I love these ladies (two are missing; one showed up after this was taken. FOR SHAME, JENNA! ;) and DKM was nursing a bad knee at the time.) I didn't walk with them so much as I did behind them because they are freakishly fast and I am not, but we caught up at pit stops and lunch, and I got a lot of reminders why these people are among my favorites. They are welcoming and friendly, and make me laugh. A lot.

DKM = My Enabler
Right at the time I needed it the most--seriously--DKM met us at a pit stop with cold Diet Pepsis.

Mock my addiction if you want, but holy hell, after all the water and Gatorade we were drinking, that Pepsi damn near sang to me.

I wasn't even buzzed yet.

But lest you think this was a three day bender, that the 2200 walkers were just going from drink to drink to drink ( we weren't) there was a steep reminder of the seriousness of what we were doing.


There were firefighters in full gear, walking each and every mile. Those miles included some hills that made people cry, two hills that I did not have the nerve to attempt (even though I went there determined to male Torrey Pines my bitch), and one downhill (I did that one) that will result in the loss of my right big toenail. These men and women marched in boots and uniforms, weighed down by tanks and heavy jackets, and they freaking smiled while doing it.

There were 2200 walkers in the San Diego 3 Day this year, raising a total of $6.5 million. 75-85% of that will go toward research, the rest to running the walk.

While we were walking, the news filtered through that Avon is suspending their 39 mile breast cancer walk. That's the loss of a lot of millions every year in the fight to find a cure. Komen walkers mourn that loss as much as Avon walkers do, because the fight is the same. The goal is the same.

We want women and men to stop dying, and we want a world where our kids grow up seeing pink as a pretty color, and nothing more.

This walk was hard, no doubt about it. The Spouse Thingy and I are still sore, still walking funny, and wondering when we'll feel like normal again. It was harder than he imagined and as tough as I remembered. And it was worth every step.

San Diego is an amazingly beautiful place, and I seriously want to go back and take in all the sights at a more leisurely pace one day. It made me wish I would remember to buy a freaking lottery ticket, because if I win big, I'm buying a house on the beach there, and inviting my 3 Day family to use my potty along the way (hey, a real toilet is a big freaking deal when you've been using port-a-potties.)

And seriously, peoples, thank you. We would not have been at the walk without your support and donations.

It was amazing.

Damn, we look so serious...

I have never taken a mile 59 picture before...this one means the world to me



The 2017 Pink Slips...the most amazing people you could hope to know
My most treasured teammate...he made the miles a hell of a lot easier and all of it way more fun.


2 comments:

Random Felines said...

You two rock....seriously

Just Ducky said...

For the boobies!