Getting Ready

With just about a week left until Mom and I leave for the walk, it's time to start getting ready. This evening, I've started the getting ready process by making piles of stuff. Piles of shirts, shorts, and socks. Piles of medical supplies, toiletries, and sunblock. My uncertainty about the weather means that a fleece, sweatshirt, and mylar blanket have made it into my piles as well. Although it's in the low 50s and rainy in Virginia tonight, who knows what the weather next weekend might bring? It could be 90. It could be 30. Or most likely, somewhere in between the two extremes. I want to be ready for anything!

All of this talk of getting ready has reminded me of the safety video I watched before my first 3-Day, in May 2000. After the walk, the introduction to the video stayed on my mind, so I emailed the 3-Day staff, and they sent me the following words about the walk, which come straight from the video I saw all of those years ago. Without further ado . . .

"Welcome to the Breast Cancer 3-Day. We have been preparing for your arrival for over a year, and we are glad that you're here. You told us you were impatient with the fight against breast cancer. That you wanted to win it--not toy with it like a cat with its mouse. You didn't want talk. You wanted walk.

So we're giving you walk. A lot of walk. Some of you may be nervous, a little scared. That's okay. It's totally normal. Some of you may be trying to deny that you're a little scared or a little nervous. That's totally normal, too. The 3-Day is demanding in almost every way. It has to be. First, we take away your blow dryer, then your house, your car . . .if it were easy, it wouldn't have as much meaning. And impact. There may be moments when you want to quit. In fact, there may be many such moments.

When you see your tent for the first time and decide that maybe the camping thing wasn't such a good idea. When you see your tentmate for the first time and . . .well . . .when your feet start to hurt. You may have moments of doubt, like why didn't you just write a check and send it to the nearest breast cancer charity?

But then . . .you'll see the sweat on the brow of the woman next to you. The woman who just had her last treatment. The woman who less than a year ago wasn't given much of a chance to be alive today. You'll see the mother and daughter walking together after many years apart, reunited by this cause by a grandmother's illness. . .and subsequent death from breast cancer. You'll start to notice the life, and not the death, in the air. The optimism that grows stronger with every step.

And you'll know why you're here. You will be part of a monument to kindness, a moving monument to love that extends all the way to those you don't even know. It will be beautiful, if you let it. It only seems natural that we have a few ground rules as we gather on this common ground. Are you ready?

Here's rule number one. No whining. You may feel like whining. But don't. Here's rule number two. No whining. It's a lot like rule number one, we know, but even more like rule number three. Which is . . .no whining. Why? you ask. Recent scientific evidence suggests that whining causes blisters.

So you got it? No whining. Only winning. We have a battle and a war from which we are all demanding victory. So it is important for us, in the next three days, to present nothing but our best selves, and, at least until Sunday afternoon arrives, to be the kind of people we always imagined we could be. How?

Try fixing up a nice dinner plate at camp, and bring it out to a total stranger who's getting in late. It would surprise her in the opposite way that people are used to being surprised. Make it a point to be at the camp entry arch each night, cheering on walkers who are still getting in, until the last walker has arrived. Maybe you could set up a tent for a new friend and leave her a note saying you hope she's having a great day (or he!). Take pleasure in the joy you put on the faces of others.

Over the next few days, see if you can feel the simple but awesome power of kindness. In the end, it's not the government that will change the future. And relegate breast cancer to the attics of our memory. It's kindness that will challenge the world. So now that you've got our subtle point about whining, try this last little rallying cry on for size. It helps us to remember why we're here. We hope it'll help you . . .

Humankind. Be both."