Thinking of Maureen

My friend Maureen is an amazing woman. Over the past several months she has publicly shared her journey toward better health through nutrition and exercise. Specifically, she has posted her daily steps as she worked toward 10,000 per day. A feat that I find unobtainable.

Over a year ago I bought a FitBit®. My intention was that by having this gadget I would walk more; move and maybe get some exercise. The little device has shamed me into nothing. All I’ve learned over the past year plus is that 2,100 steps is a mile for me. Some days I walk a lot. Other days not so much. Weekends are the worst. I hardly walk at all.

You see, I’m supposed to be training for the Avon Walk. With the knowledge I have from this clip-on tool, and Maureen’s encouragement, I started intentionally walking during my lunch break. I work on a beautiful campus that has many different paths and opportunities for walking. I haven’t walked every day, but the days that I do I complete a mile. I also live on a beautiful street and have mapped out two, one-mile loops so that if I’m conscientious, I walk a mile before work.

In my neighborhood

Maureen and I grew up in the same small town in Connecticut. She was ahead of me in school, but our lives and our families have been intertwined for decades. A few years ago we reconnected through social media. Since then we have gotten together in person a few times. And we’ve become close friends. Maureen and I have a lot in common. Maybe it’s that small town upbringing. Maybe it’s God’s purposefulness in giving me a confidant and inspiration. Whatever it is, she is someone I can turn to. Because of her, I am on my way to 10,000 steps a day.

(Last week, I walked an additional nine miles. That’s nine miles more than usual. That’s nine miles toward training for a marathon).

If you enjoy my blog and would like to follow me on Facebook, I can be found at The Reluctant Survivor. And on Twitter @relucsurvivor.

Mundane Faithfulness

Back in October I came across Kara Tippetts and her book The Hardest Peace: Expecting Grace in the Midst of Life’s Hard. I don’t remember how I found her, but I’m sure it was a connection to a connection among the on-line breast cancer family. You see, Kara was dying of breast cancer. She died a few days after Linda.

Kara has a website that is now being maintained by her friend Blythe Hunt. What I found in Kara was a grace that I know is difficult. Her posts spoke to me in a way that I haven’t been able to articulate. While she was dying I found that her messages were for me; the living who knows someone who is dying. In between the lines I knew Kara was struggling, and hurting both physically and emotionally. Yet her on-line presence spoke of seeking God’s face and finding grace every day.

As the New Year rolled around my husband subscribed me to a daily devotional that is delivered to my email inbox. Each morning I read the scripture presented and read the commentary of that day’s author. As the months have progressed I find myself pausing during my day and thinking about how God would want me to respond in the moment. I often fail. In fact, one day last week I completely lost it over an oversight and immediately regretted my reaction knowing that God’s grace was certainly not in that moment. (Fortunately, I stepped back and took a deep breath before proceeding).

During the Easter season I was reminded of Christ’s struggle of faith. It is recorded that he prayed “Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me. Nevertheless, not my will, but yours, be done.” [Luke 22:42 ESV] just before being arrested. I, too, struggle with who I’ve been asked to be; what I’ve been asked to do. Those who have followed this blog from the beginning know the “why” behind The Reluctant Survivor. You also know that I’ve said “yes” to the Avon Walk; a physical challenge that this non-athlete is amazed to undertake each year. So I seek grace to be able to step up to the challenge.

Linda was a “yes,” and her journey was very different from Kara’s. Yet very much the same.

I don’t know what my next “yes” is, but for now I still have the Avon39 Walk. And as I seek grace I will strive to be faithful in the mundane.

If you enjoy my blog and would like to follow me on Facebook, I can be found at The Reluctant Survivor. And on Twitter @relucsurvivor.

I Was Not Prepared

“God does not call the equipped. He equips the called.” - Unknown

I have seen this quote, or a variation of it, for several years now. I tried to find its origin, but failed. I like to think someone like Albert Einstein said this. He was a brilliant man with a deep faith in God.

I often write about “saying yes” before my practical brain has the opportunity to close the gate that is my mouth. My “yes” seems to come when my heart knows it is the right thing to do and my eyes see no barriers. Once I’ve said “yes” I sometimes doubt my abilities, but then I remember this quote. (Don’t get me wrong, I have learned to say “no” when it is appropriate).

When I said “yes” to the Avon Walk in 2010 it did not seem daunting until I started training and planning to go to Houston for the 2011 Walk. I have now walked in four cities and will walk for the fifth time in Boston this year. My goal is to walk in each city where Avon hosts an event. Based on the list of cities, I have two additional walks in my future.

I never doubted saying “yes” to my friend Tina when she needed help with transporting her mother to Boston for cancer treatments. I had the time. I was treated at the same facility so I knew the ropes. As it turned out, every trip into Boston was uneventful. The winter days were sunny and the roads were clear. I never had to drive in a snow storm. Unplanned trips occurred when I was available; at times that I was not normally free. Getting up and leaving my house early was never a chore. Each event, each day with Linda reminded me of God’s grace. It was never difficult for me to do what needed to get done.

At the time my husband lovingly asked if I really wanted to do this. Was I prepared for how this was going to end? I assured him that I was aware of the risks and I knew what I was getting into. And I was prepared, because as our time together progressed I watched Linda deteriorate. I witnessed the tear-filled anger. I watched as her body wasted away. It was clear that she would become one of the 41,000 people in the U.S. who will die of breast cancer this year alone.  

I spent time with Linda less than 24 hours before she died. She appeared to be sleeping and was unresponsive to my greeting, which was new. However, her nurse lovingly assured me that I should talk to her. So I did. I told her about the weather, and that I got a new car that I thought she’d like. I read from the Book of John. I knew she was going to die.

I thought I was prepared. I wasn’t. I wasn’t prepared for the devastating heartbreak or the tears. I wasn’t prepared for the loss or helplessness that I would feel. Yet God equipped the called and I know this experience will forever be with me.

If you enjoy my blog and would like to follow me on Facebook, I can be found at The Reluctant Survivor. And on Twitter @relucsurvivor.

A Year of Grace

If I were to describe 2014 I would say that it was a year of grace. Grace is a theme that I continually turned to; of which I was continually reminded. According to merriam-webster.com the word itself has many uses. The grace that I found is best described as “disposition to or an act or instance of kindness, courtesy, or clemency.” Further, it is the “unmerited divine assistance given humans for their regeneration or sanctification; a virtue coming from God.”

In 2013 I kept a gratitude jar and wrote about it January 1, 2014. I started the jar over again but find that I stopped putting slips of paper into it about mid-way through the year. It’s not that I am no longer grateful. In fact, I’m probably more grateful this year than I was in 2013. When I opened this year’s gratitude jar I found that the main theme was, once again, spending time with family and friends. There were many birthday celebrations, hikes, lunches, and a couple of very special reunions.

Along the way there were trips. A Caribbean vacation, the Avon Walk in Chicago, and our annual fly-in with friends. The 2014 destination was Dayton, OH complete with a reunion with a high school friend.

In addition to the obvious I found notes regarding health issues. Friends who hit milestones in their recovery. Others who received good news about a scan or ultrasound follow-up after a questionable mammogram. What wasn’t there were the diagnoses. For those, I am grateful that I can listen.

My job changed focus this past year. I read a lot of regulations. I do research. I answer yes or no questions with three paragraphs of explanation all so that I can say “it depends.”

I had to smile at “4-wheel drive to get up a steep, snowy hill.” I remember that day. The sun was shining and there was significant amounts of snow from a storm the day before. In looking back on the year I realize that I never drove Linda into Boston (or home) in a snow storm. For that, I am thankful.

The note that touches my heart said, “Kiwi on my lap every morning.” She is a cuddle-bug who just simply loves. There are no strings attached. She truly has grace.



Much of 2014 was routine, and yet I received so many gifts. Gifts of friendships, gifts of moments, gifts of making memories. And most of all, the gift of grace.

If you enjoy my blog and would like to follow me on Facebook, I can be found at The Reluctant Survivor. And on Twitter @relucsurvivor.

Opposite Ends

On October 30, 2007 I sat in a surgeon’s office as she told me and my husband that I had breast cancer. Seven years later I found myself at Beth Israel Deaconess Medical Center with my friends Linda and her daughter Tina as we navigated our way through appointments and difficult conversations. I watched as both nurses and doctors explained options and prognosis in neutral tones; explanations that palliative care does not cure. It only delays the inevitable.

I was impressed by the neurological oncologist who gently examined Linda and then discussed what was happening. While his voice was calm his face betrayed his concern. He listened with his eyes when Tina and I nodded our agreement to one of his suggestions.

The team is made up of at least three oncology doctors, one who is the primary team leader. The team also consists of two oncology nurses. One nurse is a nurse practitioner who works with the primary oncologist. She also works with my oncologist, so I have known her for almost seven years. She sat with Linda; completely focused on her while she delivered the most difficult news. In the end we all knew that the decision to move forward was the direction we will go. We will continue with the next round of treatments.

Before the nurse practitioner left Tina asked her how she could possibly do her job every day. As she shared that every patient is different, every journey and outcome unique, I was struck by the fact that in that room, at that moment, Nurse had two of her patients with her. Patients who are on opposite ends of the spectrum.

Being involved in Linda’s life has changed me. I still love the pink ribbon and I smile at the “Save the Tata’s” teams during the Avon Walk because they bring hope. However, while my story is one of healing and hope, Linda’s is not. For me, it is no longer about saving a woman’s breasts. It is about saving a woman’s life.

If you enjoy my blog and would like to follow me on Facebook, I can be found at The Reluctant Survivor. And on Twitter @relucsurvivor.

The Reluctant Survivor Redux

Whenever someone new finds my blog or FaceBook page I am always asked, “Why ‘Reluctant Survivor’?” I try to have a short, succinct explanation or I point them to my original post. Recently, I had a conversation with an oncologist who asked that same question. As I tried to briefly describe my “reluctance,” he said, “That’s a normal reaction. I think everyone who has been through a difficult experience feels that way at some point.” So what did I gain from that conversation?

I learned that my reluctance comes from not wanting cancer to define me, but I cannot escape the fact that the experience is a part of what defines who I am today. Without the experience I would not be “me” today.

And who am I today? I am a wife, a daughter, a sister, an aunt, a cousin, and a best friend. I am a lawyer, a writer, a poet, and a survivor. The experiences that I have had over the past 50 years define me as a person. What I choose to do with those experiences are the manifestation of that definition. As a lawyer I work in compliance. As a writer and a poet I share myself with you, my reader. And as a survivor I have become involved in activities that I believe God has placed in front of me for a purpose.

I still question this journey. I wonder what purpose God has for these experiences. What is it that I am to learn? What is God trying to teach me? Like the oncologist, I believe everyone feels this way at some point in their life. And that’s ok.

What I can share today is that I am still reluctant; I sometimes hesitate when there is an opportunity to share my story or knowledge. I am becoming more comfortable with the definition that is “me.” I still want to share my knowledge.

And while my story remains one of healing and hope, it is also a story of grace. Feel free to ask me about it.

If you enjoy my blog and would like to follow me on Facebook, I can be found at The Reluctant Survivor. And on Twitter @relucsurvivor.

National Cancer Survivors Month

June is National Cancer Survivors month here in the U.S. I celebrated National Cancer Survivors Day (June 1) by walking in Day 2 of the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer in Chicago. Today, I was looking through some journal entries and emails from my first year, and I thought I’d share two entries with you.

Has your breast cancer experience changed your life?

I was asked this question within the first year after my diagnosis. Here is what I shared. (Edited)

I am told that women who are survivors find that their life does change; some more dramatically than others. My life was forced into change after December 2007 through circumstances (other than the cancer) beyond my control. I chose to embrace these changes, accept what is and rely on God to bring me through it. Part of the journey has been painful but I know that I am right where I am supposed to be right now. I do not believe that God “did this” to me. Nor do I believe that God “let it happen.” Rather, I believe that God knew what was (and is) on my horizon and orchestrated my life so that I could best deal with the challenges. I decided that after March 5, 2008 (my final chemotherapy treatment) I would take care of myself through healthy eating, exercise and reading. I decided not to look for a full time job until after the bar exam results came out so that if I was unsuccessful I would have the summer to study. This was a wise decision.

As some of you know, I was unsuccessful on my first attempt at the bar exam. I missed “passing” by 17 points or 7 multiple choice questions. While this news was initially devastating, once I received my grades in the mail I became quite motivated by how well I had done despite being in a chemo fog. In retrospect I really felt lousy during the exam, but I did what I had set out to do and that was take the exam. Also, as some know, my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer at the end of that April. However, having a simplified life made reviewing for the bar exam and helping my mother easier.

We started eating organic. Though I have not become obsessed with it; I still eat out in restaurants and enjoy the occasional pizza or Chinese food. I am trying to get back to eating healthy. Too many lunches of grilled cheese and French fries in the cafeteria certainly could not have been good for me. I stopped eating beef and pork for a while, but now enjoy the occasional steak or roast. I try to eat low fat and avoid fried foods. Of course, the pizza and Chinese food is a contradiction. Whoever said I was consistent? I now walk at least one mile three times a week. The first time I took a walk after finishing chemotherapy really hurt. Intellectually I knew that treatment had taken away my strength but somehow I thought I could just jump right back into exercising. My doctors had advised taking it slow by walking twenty minutes three times a week to get started. They sure were right! I find that each walk is a bit easier than the last.

So I’m not really sure how my life changed, if at all, other than trying to embrace a slower pace, focus on one event at a time, and listen to God. I don’t believe my outlook on work, family or faith has changed.

On November 29, 2008

One year ago, on November 29, I had surgery for breast cancer. I celebrate today as my one year anniversary of being cancer free. I know I faced other challenges with chemotherapy and radiation afterwards, but I count those as preventative medicine. I truly believe that I was cancer free as of my surgery. I owe each and every one of my friends and extended family a huge debt of gratitude for your love, prayers and support. I learned that you can get through anything with the love of your friends. I also believe that I received the gift of healing between the time of my diagnosis on November 2, 2007 and my surgery. Even my doctors were amazed at my various test results. I know that came from the faith that each one of you carries.

While the past year was filled with challenges and losses, it was also filled with grace, love and many gifts. I am thankful for so many things: my health, passing the bar exam, and my new kitten to name a few. However, love, hope and grace remain the greatest gifts I received.

And today
 

What I wrote then is true today. The love of family and friends will get you through challenges. God will give you a second chance. And the greatest gifts are love, hope and grace.

 

If you enjoy my blog and would like to follow me on Facebook, I can be found at The Reluctant Survivor. And on Twitter @relucsurvivor.

Redefining Myself

When I was first diagnosed with breast cancer I was in denial, and yet I was overwhelmed with a sense of peace. I felt a protection that left me with a sense of calm that nothing was wrong; this was just something that I had to go through. I truly believe I was blessed with healing and health, and I thought that I wanted to share this as my story. But it never happened. As a result of wanting to share my story I started this blog.

Instead of sharing what I thought was my message of healing and hope, I have learned more about breast cancer. The fact is that one size does not fit all. I have learned the reality of my own diagnosis and realize that I am not off base in feeling blessed. And I have said “yes” to situations that I never imagined would come my way.

I have shared how I became involved with the Avon Foundation and the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer. This upcoming weekend I will walk in my fourth Walk. It has become a passion and a goal to walk in each city where the Walk is hosted. After this weekend I will have walked in half of them.

This year is especially meaningful for me because the Avon Foundation has committed to funding research projects that are specifically related to metastatic breast cancer. No, I have not been diagnosed with a recurrence or metastatic breast cancer. But my friend Linda is dying. And I have been part of her transportation team. I never imagined I would find myself in this place. The truth is that cancer kills.

Recently I have seen postings by people who offer a false hope. Their message is that God healed them through some miraculous diet and you, too, can be healed. These websites make me angry. It is not that I do not believe in God’s grace and healing touch. I do. But to tell someone that all they have to do is have enough faith, and they can be healed is false and misleading. Part of me wants to call them out as hacks on social media. However, that is not fair. They truly believe in their miracle, and I hope they are not disappointed in 15 to 20 years.

I now know that I do not want to be that person. I want to be realistic. The truth is I am fortunate. I was diagnosed with Stage I triple negative breast cancer, which is almost unheard of. I did not have a recurrence in 36-48 months. I have just passed my six years after treatment date. (My oncologist measures my progress based on when I finished treatment).

Mine is still a story of healing and hope. The hope I now share is the hope of God’s grace.

If you enjoy my blog and would like to follow me on Facebook, I can be found at The Reluctant Survivor. And on Twitter @relucsurvivor.

Chicago 2014

In five weeks I’ll be in Chicago for my fourth Avon Walk for Breast Cancer. The first physical fundraising event I ever participated in was Spin for Hope in 2010. It is an American Cancer Society fundraiser and basically a three hour spin class. A year later I participated in my first Avon Walk in Houston, Texas.

Before 2010 I had never trained for any physical event. I trained for the California Bar Exam (CBX), but never a physical challenge. During bar prep time our professors held bi-weekly web-based chats to help guide and encourage us through exam preparation. One of the analogies that was regularly used is that the CBX is like training for a marathon.

The CBX is the most difficult bar exam in the nation. Not just because the examiners are tough, but also because it is a three day event. Every other bar exam is only two days. In the end, the exam is 18 hours long and we were taught to think of the exam as six, three-hour segments. You can do any three hour exam.

In comparison, the Avon Walk is a marathon and a half. I always commit to a marathon. I know I can walk 13.1 miles each day. Last year I surprised myself and walked 31.4 miles over the two days. I am going to try to do the same or better in Chicago but I won’t get discouraged if I only walk a marathon.

The Avon Walk is a test of endurance. I think of endurance as “slow and steady wins the race.” However, it is more than that. Like the CBX there is both the physical endurance to make it through both days but there is also the mental energy needed to stay focused. Also, there is a learning curve. Having walked before I know what to expect. And as I train I know how to challenge myself.

As I go into the final weeks of training I will focus on my goal and remember why I am walking. I want a world without breast cancer. A world without any cancer. No more deaths and many, many more birthdays.

If you enjoy my blog and would like to follow me on Facebook, I can be found at The Reluctant Survivor. And on Twitter @relucsurvivor.

I Am Tired

I have become weary. I could blame it on the exceptionally cold winter this season. I might attribute it to some extra responsibilities at work. However, this feeling of ennui has been with me since before the bitter temperatures of December arrived, and long before things got busy at work.

I started thinking about why I feel this way and I realize that I am not tired; I am angry. I am angry at this “thing” called cancer. Elisabeth Kubler-Ross is known for identifying five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. It is recognized that the stages do not have to occur in that exact order except that grief generally starts with denial and ends with acceptance. And even after acceptance the stages can be and often are revisited.

I have heard that anyone who has experienced a traumatic event in their lives will go through these stages. The event does not have to be the death of a loved one. A common circumstance is a life-threatening illness or diagnosis. I was once asked if I ever got angry about my diagnosis. The answer is no, I don’t think I have. I seem to have skipped over that part.

But now I’m angry. I am angry with the small town doctor and radiologist at my local hospital (before I moved my health care to Boston) who overlooked years of questionable mammograms, telling me I had a cyst, because there was no history of breast cancer in my family. I am angry that another local hospital overlooked a friend’s symptoms of a recurrence. I am angry that yet another friend has been diagnosed with breast cancer. I am angry that cancer has become an epidemic.

I recently watched the documentary Pink Ribbon, Inc. Did you know that back in the 1940’s and 1950’s one in twenty-two (4%) of women would be diagnosed with invasive breast cancer at some point in their life. And it was a post-menopausal disease. When I was diagnosed the mantra was “one in ten.” It was barely two years later that I read “one in eight.” That’s right, 12%. And there is an increase of breast cancer in women in their 30’s and 40’s. I was considered young when I was diagnosed at the age of 43.

Anger is a powerful tool. Some people become activists. Some become inspirational speakers. Many write, whether it’s a journal, blog or book. Anger is a motivator. So I am going to continue to do what I can to help promote awareness for all cancers.* I am going to fundraise for the Avon Foundation’s annual Walk for Breast Cancer. I am going to help my friends when and where I can.

I am angry. But I am also tired. I am tired of this disease. I am tired of this epidemic. I am tired of cancer.

*March is colorectal cancer awareness month. Aka bowel cancer to my friends in the U.K. This is a reminder to get screened.

If you enjoy my blog and would like to follow me on Facebook, I can be found at The Reluctant Survivor. And on Twitter @relucsurvivor.

Inspiration

I received an email a while ago; one of those generic emails from a woman soliciting my input in support of her foundation. She asked that I consider sharing her story, but also my story on her website. Her cause is a good one; the fight against cancer. Specifically, her husband had died from lung cancer. I saved the email thinking I might reply to her. I never did. However, her inquiry into what inspires me intrigued me, so I saved her email.

When I think of inspiration I think of stories of hope and courage. However, inspiration is more than that. Inspiration should encourage me to move forward with my goals. It is not just a “feel good” story. Inspiration gives motivation and determination to keep going when I want to quit. So what does inspire me?

The woman with metastatic breast cancer who walked in the San Francisco Avon Walk last year. She inspires me. I had read about her through the Avon Foundation. I also found myself walking in front of her. I knew it was her as I listened to the woman behind me tell her walking partners about her treatment. She has Stage IV breast cancer and she will eventually die from the disease. She was on her fourth different drug treatment. The first three had stopped working to hold back the progression of the disease. She had entered into an experimental protocol that was designed to target the cancer cells. She took pills, but still had to go into the hospital once a month for an infusion. She also had to have blood tests and follow-up appointments to see if the new drugs were working. She is an inspiration. She was walking 39.3 miles through the hills of San Francisco with a debilitating disease that will kill her. I kept walking.

 

Babies are an inspiration. Little ones offer hope for the future; hope for a future without cancer. My great-niece was born while I was undergoing radiation treatment. I held her a few weeks later. As I looked at her sweet face and beautiful bald head I felt as if I were looking into a mirror. Here was a miniature version of me; of what I looked like in 2008. As I have watched her and her older brother grow I am reminded of how lucky I am to have such beauty in my life.

A co-worker just gave birth to twins. Another friend is pregnant. And yet another is hoping. While I don’t have children of my own, each birth, each pregnancy brings me joy. I am happy for them; for the growing families. I want to spend this year making baby blankets. New life keeps me knitting. (A hobby I have always enjoyed and am just getting back to).

My friend Tina is an inspiration. Her love and devotion to her family is beyond measure. She balances life on a small farm with a successful career. She cares for her mother with endless energy and determination. At times I feel overwhelmed with my responsibilities at work, but then a smile or kind word from Tina reminds me of how far I’ve come and I realize I’m here, living today, for a reason and a purpose.

Upon reflection, it is not a thing that inspires me. It is people. The people around me, whether it’s a chance meeting, family, or a lifelong friend. That is what inspires me. That is what keeps me going.

If you enjoy my blog and would like to follow me on Facebook, I can be found at The Reluctant Survivor. Now on Twitter @relucsurvivor.

Outside My Comfort Zone

I have friends who like to post inspirational and motivational quotes. I have one friend who believes you should strive to work outside your comfort zone. In fact, his advice is to do one thing a year that is outside your comfort zone. Well, the San Francisco Avon Walk weekend certainly was outside my comfort zone.

I could have easily told my teammates “not this year.” I was not planning to walk in San Francisco so early in our quest to walk in each city where an Avon Walk is held. I figured if we saved San Francisco for last I’d be in good enough shape to do it. But the team wanted to walk in San Francisco. We had agreed that it would be a California walk and the San Francisco dates worked best for everyone. So I trained and tried not to think about the hills or the Golden Gate Bridge.

Well, it turned out that the weekend was filled with experiences that were outside my comfort zone. Friday evening two of my teammates and I ended up at a Japanese restaurant for dinner. They both wanted sushi and the first place we tried was out of fish entrees. (How can a restaurant that is rated “high” for their fish be out of fish in San Francisco?). Anyway, we walked down the street a couple of blocks and waited for a table at a small, genuine Japanese restaurant. I’ve have had California rolls before, but not the raw fish that is sushi. Also, I am not a fan of raw (rare) tuna. But here I was with my friends, and since I’m willing to try anything once I said “teach me.”

 

I ordered a sampler meal that included three types of raw fish over rice balls, three California rolls, and some tempura shrimp with vegetables. Sarah taught me how to use chop sticks. While it was quite amusing, I managed well enough to eat my meal. Susan taught me about the dipping sauces. They both filled me in on what is appropriate for eating both sushi and tempura. They assured me that making it finger food was perfectly acceptable (which is how I ended up eating my tempura).

Saturday the three walkers in our team (one was a crew member giving massages at the Wellness Village) headed out for the first part of our San Francisco Walk. I found that I could keep a good pace and not get winded; unlike the first two Walks in Houston and D.C. The hills were the hills of San Francisco and I did ok. There was only one place where I had to stop to catch my breath before continuing on.

I walked across the Golden Gate Bridge! The lunch stop was after the Bridge at the 13.1 mile marker. The halfway point is usually where I stop, but the route layout for San Francisco day one is shorter than 26.2 miles and day two is 15.5 miles (2.4 miles longer than usual). And lunch is usually at mile 11. Since I’m used to continuing the Walk after lunch, and I knew I had 15 miles on Sunday I decided to keep walking after lunch. I made it to the next rest stop at mile 15.9. A personal best.

Sunday we got to walk back across the Golden Gate Bridge. This time I walked with my teammates and we stopped for some pictures to “prove” we were actually on the Bridge. The truth is, it wasn’t so bad as long as I stayed focused and didn’t look down. I did look across the Bay; it is a spectacular view.

This year the Avon Walk was outside my comfort zone. But there was more than just the famous hills. I ate raw tuna, used chop sticks, walked across the Golden Gate Bridge (twice) and walked 31.4 miles. My comfort zone has just expanded.

If you enjoy my blog and would like to follow me on Facebook, I can be found at The Reluctant Survivor.

Romans 8:28 Revisited

“Coincidence is God’s way of remaining anonymous.” ~ Albert Einstein

It was Friday, September 27, 2013 and I was up early to catch a flight to San Francisco to participate in the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer. As I poured my first cup of coffee my husband asked, “Did you see Leslie’s post?” I immediately logged into Facebook and went to the Rabbit Hill Inn page to read Leslie’s blog post. As I started to read tears came to my eyes. I started crying about half way through the post. I couldn’t believe what I was reading about my dear friend. And today of all days!

I like to arrive at the airport early; it cuts down on my anxiety. I’d rather wait at the gate for an hour than worry that I might miss my flight. We left earlier than we had to but my husband also needed to get to work. I figured I would get through security and go have breakfast. We pulled out of the driveway at 7:25 a.m. I was through security and at my assigned gate by 8:33 a.m. There was another San Francisco flight posted at that gate leaving at 8:55 a.m. I overheard a man asking at the counter if there were seats available; he had a later flight. The attendants said “yes” so I wandered up and mentioned that I was also on a later flight. The attendant looked me in the eyes and said, “No you’re not. You’re on this flight,” as he took my boarding pass and rebooked me for the 8:55. As he cancelled my original itinerary he mentioned that it was a good thing I was on this flight because my flight was showing a three hour delay.

I ended up with an aisle seat (which I like) and boarded the plane. I had enough time to send a quick text to my teammates and husband that I was on an earlier flight. How awesome was that?!?! The flight was uneventful and I was well attended to by one flight attendants. I arrived in San Francisco to a beautiful day of sunshine and temperatures in the 70’s. I made my way to the hotel and met up with my friend, roommate and teammate, Susan.

As the weekend unfolded I learned that the San Francisco Walk is usually held in July, but just this year, for one time only, it was rescheduled to September 28 & 29. Really? It just “happened” to be rescheduled? You know I don’t believe in coincidence. I took Leslie, and all the others I know, with me in my heart as I walked this past weekend.

And if I ever had any doubt about my purpose in walking, my flight experience certainly confirmed that I was meant to be in San Francisco this past weekend.

“We know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.” ~ Romans 8:28

 

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Avon Walk - San Francisco

Tomorrow I leave for San Francisco to participate in the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer. I’m both anxious and excited. I know I’ve shared my anxiety over the Golden Gate Bridge, but I did a Google search and discovered it’s really not that bad. The walkway is a wide sidewalk. In fact, reading about the bridge made it sound like a public park. I looked at pictures of walkers and bicyclists and thought “I can do that.”

I am also anxious about traveling. It’s not a post 9/11 anxiety about flying. In fact, it has nothing to do with the trip itself. It’s a “I don’t want to miss my flight” anxiety. But one of the things that I’ve learned about travel is that it’s not a big deal. I’ve missed flight connections and still got to where I was going. I’ve had flights canceled, was able to rebook my hotel room, and rescheduled my flight for the next day. Beyond that, the trip isn’t vital to anything. Except maybe seeing my friends. The truth is: I’m fine once I’m sitting at the gate waiting to board.

The other thing I’ve learned about travel is that it’s fairly easy to get around. I’ve done enough business travel that I know how to navigate to the taxi queue, grab a cab, and get to my hotel. In this electronic age I’ve already received confirmation emails, reminder phone calls, and been able to print out everything 24 hours in advance. I’m good to go. Tomorrow just has to arrive.

However, I think more than anything I’m excited. I’m excited to see my friends (teammates). I’m excited to be walking again. I’m happily (instead of anxiously) anticipating the physical challenge ahead. And I’m excited that our efforts have meaning. The money raised goes to research, education, detection, support, and treatment. As little as $150 means an uninsured woman gets a mammogram. Additionally, the money raised helps a newly diagnosed woman (or man) get the x-rays and lab work that is needed to determine treatment. An average of 80% of funds raised stay in the area where the event takes place. The remaining 20% goes to care programs in all 50 states, as well as national research programs, to help ensure adequate funding for the fight against breast cancer. Source: www.avonwalk.org. It is exciting to help fund the Avon Foundation and the fight against breast cancer.