Here's a hint.
And there's more to the romantic tale.
Our first date: Grad '83
And they called it preppie love.
Wednesday, August 23, 2006
Guess what?
Guess what happened 20 years ago today?
Here's a hint.
And there's more to the romantic tale.
Our first date: Grad '83
And they called it preppie love.
Here's a hint.
And there's more to the romantic tale.
Our first date: Grad '83
And they called it preppie love.
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
Weekend to End Breast Cancer
Sixty kilometres, 2,100 walkers, $5.5 million.
That’s how I spent my weekend -- The Weekend to End Breast Cancer. And I’m sorry if this seems long, but I couldn’t boil the whole event into a smaller package.
Going into the weekend, I thought the main point and the hardest part was the fundraising. But my experience this weekend, and my sore feet today, are telling me something different.
Walking so far, with so many other women (and a few men) was . . .
I’ve sat for five minutes trying to think of the right word, knowing it sounds artificial and cheesy to say it was ‘amazing’ or ‘inspiring.’
It was hard. It was hard to get up off the grass at kilometre 30, knowing there were five more kilometres to walk. It was hard to get out of bed at 5:30 Sunday morning to walk another 25 km.
It was hard to watch a teenage girl stop walking at kilometre 55, step off the sidewalk and collapse onto the grass, crying and shaking her head.
But it was a relief to see a volunteer crew member pull up almost immediately to offer a ride in his motorcycle sidecar if she decided she couldn’t get up again.
It was fun to hoot and laugh with the volunteers who stood at the roadside dancing in elaborate costumes, ‘high-fiveing’ every walker who went past. And it was nice to accept a cold drink or a candy from residents standing along the route, cheering us on.
And it was funny to notice that most walkers spent a lot of extra time at the refreshment station run by 20+ male firefighters.
And honestly, it was painful to walk the last five km with muscle cramps and wickedly sore feet.
So my team members and I made the only sensible decision we could. We signed up for next year's walk.
You might think the aching muscles and sore feet would make me determined not to walk again. But they’ve just made me determined to train a little harder, stretch a little longer, weigh a little less, and try a different running shoe.
And I feel a little self-conscious saying this, and I know it sounds totally cheesy, but even if it dooms me to a career writing for ‘Chicken Soup for the Walking Soul,’ I really do mean it.
If my feeling a little pain means raising more money for better diagnostics and treatment, and that means someone fighting breast cancer experiences a little less pain, then okay. I can do that.
So this is a huge ‘thank you’ to those who donated to the cause, who supported me and our team while we were fundraising and training, and when we were walking this weekend. And this is a reminder to those who haven’t yet donated to click this link.
And this is invitation to you to walk with us next year. We start training in September.
Pictures to follow.
That’s how I spent my weekend -- The Weekend to End Breast Cancer. And I’m sorry if this seems long, but I couldn’t boil the whole event into a smaller package.
Going into the weekend, I thought the main point and the hardest part was the fundraising. But my experience this weekend, and my sore feet today, are telling me something different.
Walking so far, with so many other women (and a few men) was . . .
I’ve sat for five minutes trying to think of the right word, knowing it sounds artificial and cheesy to say it was ‘amazing’ or ‘inspiring.’
It was hard. It was hard to get up off the grass at kilometre 30, knowing there were five more kilometres to walk. It was hard to get out of bed at 5:30 Sunday morning to walk another 25 km.
It was hard to watch a teenage girl stop walking at kilometre 55, step off the sidewalk and collapse onto the grass, crying and shaking her head.
But it was a relief to see a volunteer crew member pull up almost immediately to offer a ride in his motorcycle sidecar if she decided she couldn’t get up again.
It was fun to hoot and laugh with the volunteers who stood at the roadside dancing in elaborate costumes, ‘high-fiveing’ every walker who went past. And it was nice to accept a cold drink or a candy from residents standing along the route, cheering us on.
And it was funny to notice that most walkers spent a lot of extra time at the refreshment station run by 20+ male firefighters.
And honestly, it was painful to walk the last five km with muscle cramps and wickedly sore feet.
So my team members and I made the only sensible decision we could. We signed up for next year's walk.
You might think the aching muscles and sore feet would make me determined not to walk again. But they’ve just made me determined to train a little harder, stretch a little longer, weigh a little less, and try a different running shoe.
And I feel a little self-conscious saying this, and I know it sounds totally cheesy, but even if it dooms me to a career writing for ‘Chicken Soup for the Walking Soul,’ I really do mean it.
If my feeling a little pain means raising more money for better diagnostics and treatment, and that means someone fighting breast cancer experiences a little less pain, then okay. I can do that.
So this is a huge ‘thank you’ to those who donated to the cause, who supported me and our team while we were fundraising and training, and when we were walking this weekend. And this is a reminder to those who haven’t yet donated to click this link.
And this is invitation to you to walk with us next year. We start training in September.
Pictures to follow.
Wednesday, August 02, 2006
Station identification
I have no energy or wit for a perky post about what's going on in my life these days. Consider this the coloured bars that fill the screen after a station goes off the air for the day.
I'll see you when I've been re-energized.
I'll see you when I've been re-energized.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
