Dateline: October 19-20, 2013, Manhattan and Brooklyn, New York
2 days, 3 friends, 39 Miles, and a sleepover. What could be better?
The whole thing was Kelly’s idea (fault). One day at work, Kelly mentioned that she had completed a 60- mile 3- day Avon Walk for Breast Cancer several years before. She said it was easy, fun, rewarding, and that the fundraising wasn’t hard. This one wasn’t even going to be 40 miles, so it should be super easy.
So we formed our team- Kelly, me, Jen, Ursula, Jan, and Arielle. And we had months to fundraise. Kelly was good at it, I hit up large donors multiple times, taking advantage of the recent Supreme Court ruling allowing for unlimited funds to flow to Avon from wealthy donors, Jen got the job done. Ari, Urs, and Jan did nothing and raised exactly that amount. Kelly and I trained a bit over the summer. I remember walking around Southport in Maine, ONCE. Kelly did 4 miles a week with the husband and the dog, and the two of us trained together, ONCE, by walking 8 miles after work. Jen doesn’t need no stinking training, apparently. She has no time for it.
So at 5 am on October 19, the 3 of us were at the start at the piers off the West Side Highway. We took off in a flood of pink as the eastern sky put on its matching pink glow.
Up the length of Manhattan, and back down, and ten miles in, we are goofing around. There are plenty of rest stops, water bottles, granola bars, and, most importantly, porta-potties. On every corner, there are volunteers to cheer walkers on, make them laugh. Miles flow, at first.
Crossing the Brooklyn Bridge on foot was a highlight on day one. Crossing back over the noisy Manhattan Bridge, less so. But hey, it’s easier than swimming across.
Day one is the tougher day, and the goal is to walk a full Marathon distance, 26 miles, 385 tough taxi yards. We learned that day that 20 miles is easy, 26 is hard, and that last 385 yards is nearly impossible. Jen’s hip flexor refused to function, and she was swinging her left leg forward. Kelly’s knee was flaring and she has no skin on her feet. And I really really had to go to the bathroom and was searching for bushes on Randall’s Island, but there weren’t any. I ran, ran, RAN into the first one I saw, just before our tent city. I felt like I had reached Mecca.
Thankfully, Boy Scouts were on hard to help us set up our tents, because we were suddenly unable to stand on the lush cool green grass, and we rested in the fetal position. Jen and I shared one pup tent, and Kelly spent a restless night, expecting a strange roommate to arrive at any second and unzip her tent. Jen swore she heard that happening, and we laughed hysterically over it as we groaned and stretched, trying to find a comfortable position. We didn’t plan ahead, and later, it proved difficult to find the correct tent after a pre dawn porta potty run. I was laughing and freezing in bare feet, but luckily, an errant sock marked my home turf.
Avon fed us a delicious dinner and offered podiatrists, doctors, and massage therapists for all. The blister busters were busy all evening. The following day, sans Boy Scouts, we barely got our tents folded and stacked before limping off to the start line for the final 13 miles. Day two was painful. But as we kept reminding ourselves, better than, easier than, take it any day over a cancer diagnosis, chemo, radiation, mastectomy. We walked and walked and walked- some people were running. We kept ourselves going with punchy private jokes and a promise that we would get ourselves NYC pizza and ice cream.
We succeeded with ice cream, but alas, we were done too early for pizza, which didn’t open until 11:30. We prevailed upon a couple of shops to open early for us, but the owners were unmoved by our pleas. As we hit the wall of pain, Kelly announced that the walk needed to end. It took its sweet time doing it, so I suggested that we incorporate some Chi Walking into our efforts, and demonstrated the technique, which made me look like I shouldn’t be allowed out without an aide in NYC. Soon after, we made it to the piers and the finish line. I don’t seem to have a photo documenting that historic moment. I think we were all more interested in finding the minivan driven by Jeff that would ferry us back to NJ.
Avon walk was exhausting, but also inspirational. We were cheered by thousands of volunteers, accompanied by hundreds of breast cancer survivors helping to ensure that someday others don’t have to face this disease. Millions upon millions of dollars raised for research, treatment, and support.
I encourage everyone to do the Avon Walk, at least once. Friends, fun, laughs, camping, pain, all for a good cause. And you never know when you or someone you love might need help in facing the emotional, physical, and financial challenges of a cancer diagnosis. Soon after we completed the walk, one of our moms was diagnosed… Having shared the Avon walk, we know that she doesn’t, won’t ever, walk alone.
