You know how sometimes you do something and have a wonderful experience and then you go back to do the exact same thing a second time and it is a big ol’ let down? Not so the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer Research. As wonderful and fulfilling as it was the first time, the second was even better.
The day started out sketchy at best. Mary and I stopped at a Dunkin’ Donuts which was, well, way out of our comfort zone. We tackled our first fears of the day upon entrance to the store and a quick perusal of our fellow patrons. We got out alive (and caffeinated)(it was 6 in the morning, after all), ran into the torrential rain to make our final ascent to the Opening Ceremonies, and smashed into the car behind us. I mean smashed. Loud. Decked in our pink-from-head-to-toe outfits we got out of the car holding our breath and wondering if we were about to be shot, maimed or otherwise put in the hospital. Out stepped an adorable little blonde twentysomething who announced she was in a mad rush and not to worry. Fortunately, and miraculously, aside from a tiny scratch there was no damage to either car.
Off we proceeded to the walk. Upon arrival at the parking lot (did I mention it was pouring rain?) things were moving along swimmingly when suddenly the line ahead of us came to a grinding halt. Said halt lasted for close to 45 minutes. Apparently, my dear walking buddy, Mary, got her start times a little off so we missed the Opening Ceremonies. The traffic holdup was staged by the staff in order to allow the walkers to get started on day one’s 26.2 mile route. Okay, no biggie…this isn’t a race after all. The line of cars began to move again and we were directed every few feet by Avon staff folks pointing left, right and straight ahead ostensibly letting us know where to leave the car. Would have been fine but for the fact there was suddenly no more staff and we found ourselves back out on Morrissey Boulevard without a clue as to how we got there or how we’d get back. A little irritated, we opted to head to the first rest stop and meet up with the masses there. (Okay, so I’ve outed us. We actually only did 24.2 miles the first day. Trust me, it felt like the full 26.2). We left the car directly across from the first rest stop, assumed the car would be stripped, stolen, ticketed or towed and off we went.
Around three or four miles into the walk the rain stopped (but by now I was a slave to my hat) and the day was suddenly sunny, dry and cool. (Most of you slept through the rain part of the day…we did not). We quickly dried in the sun and proceeded to walk with 2,998 other folks – mostly women, but certainly some men (love a man in pink) through various neighborhoods until we reached the Wellness Village in Canton. During the course of those many miles we met people from all different circumstances, all with their own reason for walking. We spent a bulk of the day with Lisa and Dawn, friends since high school who came from New Hampshire to walk. They had been at the funeral of a friend last year when they decided to take some sort of action to eradicate cancer. We shared stories of our combined nine children, our husbands and our lives. These are two women we never would have met otherwise yet all barriers were down and we connected for those many hours we walked.
Upon arrival at the Wellness Village we were greeted by screaming supporters, a heaping plate of pasta and meatballs (dinner #1), Mary’s family and the vision of a sea of tents. None of them would have our sorry butts in them as we had the forethought this year to book a hotel in advance. (Sidebar: We did indeed have a reservation at a hotel just a few minutes from the Wellness Village. Upon arrival there it was apparent that, despite being exhausted and wanting nothing, or so we thought, more than a hot shower and a second dinner, this particular establishment was not going to make the cut. Before rejecting, we waited to see the actual room and not just judge by the lobby and the employees – both scary – so dutifully handed over the credit card. We only had to open the door to determine that there was no way in hell we were staying there. The tent was looking more and more appealing. Bill, Mary’s husband, called every hotel in a twenty mile radius but all were full due to commencements, seasoned walkers and various other Boston happenings. We decided we would stay just about anywhere but there and went down to the scary folks in the lobby and somehow, by some miracle, or perhaps the smell coming from us and our shoes, they refunded our money…but “just this once.” We left without a real plan but wound up in a great room at the Needham Sheraton, compete with on the house room service (dinner #2). We both showered, popped a Motrin (good call from the doc we met on the walk who suggested it) and were out like lights before you could say, “get up tomorrow and walk another 13 miles”.)
We got up on Sunday morning raring to go. Really. We headed back to the Wellness Village and settled into a hardy breakfast of coffee, cheese eggs, oatmeal, fruit, you name it. We sat down in the mess-tent and started chatting with the ladies finishing up at the table. (They joked that they had decided to walk to get a weekend away from their families. Oh, wait, they weren’t joking.) Just as they got up to leave, in walked folks we knew from home – D., H. and M. (H’s daughter). We knew they were walking (this was their 7th year) and were psyched to see them. The five of us finished breakfast and took to walking as one for the last thirteen miles. H. and I are survivors (although we both bristle a little at that definition as we both consider our ordeals as having been so much easier than so many other women have experienced) and D., M. and Mary have been our stalwart supports through every moment.
We laughed, learned more about one another with each step we took, shared ourselves and experiences with complete abandon and crossed the finish line with our friendships forever changed. Sharing swollen feet, tight quads, sausage fingers, porta potty stories and doing what girlfriends do (less the usual martinis)all in the name of supporting breast cancer research. It was a wonderful day. Again.
The walk ended with our families at the finish line making it all the more wonderful. Thank you all for your support, encouragement, love and kind messages. You will be hearing from us again next year…
(Sidebar #2 - Not only was my car just where and as we left it, but the tiny little scratch which I got from my unfortunate backing up job at the Dunkin’ Donuts wiped clean with a little spit on the finger!)
