At the boys' gymnastics club, there is routinely a bag of frozen veggies lying on a bench. Frozen peas and corn make great ice packs. Today my left foot is warming up a bag of peas and the right is using an ice pack given to Bill after surgery on his arm. The peas feel best. I think my feet are having chemo flashbacks: occasional sharp pains. But really, is it neuropathy pain or 45-year-old-that-just-walked-26-miles pain? Before the details of the weekend fall into the vat of slushy memories, here are a few blips from those two days.
Most people walked in teams and wore team t-shirts: “Save the ta-tas” “Stop the war on my raq” “Hakuna ma ta tas” (worn by a team of 14 women who raised $38,000 this year) “Don’t be a boob. Get a mammogram.” “Save 2nd base”
And then there were the survivors with a sense of humor: “Yes, these are fake… my real ones tried to kill me.”
Signs that walkers pinned to their backs showed who they were "In it to end it" for. Most signs had several names. Occasionally there was only one person's name:
“I’m in it to end it for <- her” ("Her" pointed to her friend, a breast cancer survivor.)
A photo of a woman born in 1967. “RIP… we love you.” That one was haunting.
Youth crews cheered us on at rest stops. A 13-year-old boy with pink hair filled our water bottles while chanting, “Drink and pee, avoid IV’s!”
Yours truly at mile 8 the second day: “Ahhh, there’s a line of porta-potties – we are close to the next rest stop!” At my side, Amy: “That’s a cemetery.” My eyes sent the image of a row of grave stones to my brain as a row of porta-potties.
$4.8M raised for the Avon Walk Boston this year
Out of 2,100 walkers, 242 were breast cancer survivors.
The sign on the back of my shirt: "In it to end it for all Princess Warriors."
I could name at least 24 Princess Warriors. Way too many...