My friend Ashley wrote a blog a few years ago explaining why she invests so much of her time in service to others. She said, “When all is said and done, we don’t volunteer just because it feels good, although it does. We don’t do it just because it’s a resume-builder, although it is. We don’t do it just because we think we might meet that special someone at a volunteer project, although we might (just ask me and my husband). We volunteer because we recognize that someone is in need and we have the power to help. As the Jewish sage Hillel says, ‘If I am only for myself, What am I?’”
Now, you’re probably not surprised to hear that that passage brings me to tears. Yes, even after the 25th time reading it. I just feel like – YES – it’s really that simple. Someone is in need. And I can help.
And that very last phrase – whew – it’s like Hillel knew me – “If I am only for myself, What am I?”
Some believe that living a life of service to others is a choice, just like any other profession or path. Others think our destiny is laid out in God’s plan. For me, it’s just … well, it’s just who I am. It’s the only part of me of which I’m truly certain. The only part that makes full and complete sense.
Sometimes I lay awake at night, thinking of all the people in need, of all the causes I’d like to support, of all the ways I could hopefully make a difference. Many of those nights I’ve spent wishing I could “turn it off” and just go to sleep. I try to get lost in books or TV or social media, but when I put the book down or turn off the TV or shut my computer, there’s that darn thought again – what am I going to do tomorrow that will make the world a better place?
I think back to when I was a little girl and first started to understand the importance of helping others. Our family would be walking down the streets of D.C. and pass a homeless person with a sign, asking for help. My father would always backtrack to give something, anything, to help. One time we were in the car and couldn’t stop. My father drove a little further, made a U-turn and stopped to hand the man some money. I have vivid memories of my Nana, on her visits here from Egypt. She would arrive with empty suitcases and fill them with clothing and toys that my sister and I were no longer using, to take back for the poor in her neighborhood. What hit me the hardest was visiting India when I was 20. Everywhere we looked – children begging on the streets. So many children. Some carried by their mothers or older siblings, others alone and hungry. I cried myself to sleep every night in that beautiful country.
I just feel it. All the time. The aching need to do more. To give more. To be a light and a voice for those who live in darkness or silence. Have you ever looked, I mean really looked, into the eyes of someone in need? Someone who is struggling so hard to find that last piece of hope? Someone who doesn’t have the tools or the support or the wherewithal to grab hold of what’s holding them back and change their path? My stomach turns. I feel helpless and guilty.
The truth is, I have been so fortunate to lead a life of privilege. I had parents who supported me (mentally, emotionally, financially). I went to the best schools and participated in all sorts of activities that made me stronger, smarter and well-equipped for the future. I traveled around the U.S. and to Europe and Africa before I could really appreciate what it took to get there.
I came to realize that with privilege comes power. Comes responsibility. Comes the tools and the support and the wherewithal to grab hold of what I see and make real change … for the better.
My parents like to tell the story of my first months getting an allowance. They realized that I was running out of money far earlier than made sense each month, and yet I wasn’t buying obscene amounts of clothing or going out to eat all that often. Finally they asked where all my money was going and I said, as though it was the most natural thing, “I’m donating it.” I remember being surprised that it was even a question. What else would I do with the money? I don’t need it … I’m taken care of. Finally, so that I could have some money for myself, my parents told me to pick my top two charities and they would make those donations on my behalf.
And now here we are years later and my friends tease me, saying, “Is there any [progressive] world cause you don’t support?” The short answer is no. Because I don’t support causes just to support causes. I’m supporting people. I’m supporting movements. I’m doing what I feel is so natural –simply caring enough to do something.
Toward the end of 2014, after many years of raising funds and awareness for different causes from the comfort of my own home, I needed more. I needed to give of myself like I had never given before. I needed to touch the issues with my own two hands and my whole heart. Growing up I’d heard of the Peace Corps and other national service organizations, but I never thought I could leave my family, my friends and my home town to join up. Then, to my own surprise, on a quiet October evening, something inside me said, “Sara, you’re ready. Just go for it.”
So I started the process. I filled out long applications and wondered if I was a good candidate for the programs and how I would fare in the selection process. I dreamed about what life would be like away from home, serving in a community with which I was totally unfamiliar. I watched videos of past presidents and civic leaders talking about the importance of national and international service … and I really did feel like they were talking to me. I spoke with friends and colleagues who had themselves participated in national service. I sat down with my parents to discuss what it would mean to have their support if I left the “working world.”
I started receiving requests for interviews through the AmeriCorps VISTA program. VISTA (Volunteers In Service To America), an idea proposed to Congress by President John F. Kennedy, was founded in 1965 as a national service program to fight poverty in America. Today, more than 46 million Americans live in poverty. 46 million. That number doesn’t even compute. Through this program I would work to help eradicate poverty by building the capacity of organizations that fight illiteracy, improve health services, foster economic development and otherwise assist low-income communities.
After about a dozen interviews, I had some front runners. One organization in Colorado working to motivate and build the lives of incarcerated juveniles. Another in Montana creating services for homeless and at-risk families. And yet another in the great state of Texas, working with the Barbara Bush Houston Literacy Foundation. There were multiple phone calls with each organization. I made spreadsheets to compare the opportunities (no surprise there, right?). In the end, tackling poverty through the power of literacy struck a chord in my heart. And just like that, two short months after telling myself to “just go for it,” I was committed to one year of volunteer service in Houston, Texas!
My friends and family were so supportive. So excited for me. Reminding me to cherish every moment, capture anything I could with a camera and of course, write down the details of my experience so that in 10 years, in 50 years, I can look back and say, wow, that was quite a year. Woohoo – this is going to be amazing!
…
On the other hand – holy crap. This was the kind of thing I’d been preparing for my whole life. Was I even ready? Was I going to do a good job? Was I going to accomplish anything? Was I going to touch lives? Was I going to leave a legacy that made a difference? Mother Teresa said, “I alone can’t change the world, but I can cast a stone across the waters to create many ripples.”
So I guess that’s what this year is about. Casting ripples.
Monday, August 17, 2015
Monday, May 18, 2015
Avon Walk 2015 - Houston
It’s taken me a
while to sit down and write this blog. I could blame it on full days at
work and hard nights at the gym; I could say I’ve been having too much fun in
my new city to carve out any time. But the truth is, this year was, by far, my
most challenging Walk and I’ve been a little ashamed to talk about it.
But I’ll get to why that is later. For now, let’s start at the beginning of
this year’s journey, back in January …
So, I made a huge
move. After seven years as a marketing professional and 32 years in my home
state of Maryland, I picked up and moved to Texas to join AmeriCorps, a
national service organization. I would dedicate one year of volunteer service
to a literacy organization in Houston. Not only was this a huge change
professionally, it was a bigger change personally. I was overwhelmed, to say the least. My
location, my job, my friendships, my family proximity … it was all going to
change. But there was one thing I wanted to keep steady – and that was my
dedication to the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer.
My dream has
always been to do good. And more importantly, to do good by others, for
others, with others, in spite of others, because of others. My relationship to
the Avon Walk is special. It shows me I can lead a team of women fighting for a
cause. It shows me I can physically withstand more than I ever realized. It
shows me I can reach people’s hearts and ask them to join me in making a
difference, with their time or money. It shows me that there are communities of
philanthropists taking strides in the right directions and I am a part of
that. Needless to say, it would take a lot for me to stop fundraising those
dollars and walking those miles.
As luck would have
it, the Avon Walk takes place in 9 cities each year, one of them being Houston!
And even better, two teammates from last year (my mom and my dear friend,
Lauren) agreed to travel here and join me once again. I was not in this alone.
I was however, in new territory. Being away from all my donors, there was no
opportunity to host an on-site fundraiser (in the past we’ve done bar nights
with food specials and raffles). Being away from my teammates, there were no
training walks, team meetings or chances to bond before a very long walk
together. (Although many would say I’ve bonded enough with these two women.) So,
reaching my donors and teammates would have to be through emails and social
media. Being quite fluent in both, I knew I could handle it.
Another change was
a total re-branding of the Walk, now called AVON39. When I think about what
the brand used to be, I remember feeling that it was all from the heart.
Powerful words and phrases, but with a message that channeled your emotional
side. This year – BOOM – it was all about being fierce, earning your 39, waking
up with determination and going to bed with satisfaction. Strength in numbers,
but also strength as an individual. Each of us matter. Each dollar we raise, each
step we take. We each matter. I loved it. I felt it in my heart. In my mind. In
my soul. In the soles of my shoes. And
when I saw commercials for the Walk on TV, I would literally cheer. That’s
going to be us! We are going to earn our 39! Funny how even after all these years I still
get riled up. (P.S. Nice job Avon, the re-branding worked.)
I follow AVON39 on
Facebook, Twitter and Instagram. The messages and photos motivate me, they
make me feel connected to other walkers, other cities, the greater cause. So
imagine my elation seeing a photo posted in early February throwing it back to
last year ... and there are my teammates
and me! Out of the thousands of people who walk each year, they grabbed a photo
with us in it! It was such a rush.
AVON39 is two full
days, 39.3 miles. That is a lot of time to be on your feet, wishing the
miles to go by. So in the past, one of the things our team has come to value is
the sideline support of our friends and family. Those loved ones who meet us at
rest stops, hold signs as we pass by, bring snacks along the route and even
walk a few miles here and there. That’s the beauty of doing the Walk in your
own city. But, alas, we would not have that this year. One of our greatest
supporters, our dear friend, Eve, sent us a care package a few weeks before the
Walk. In this box were fun pink ribbons socks, blister kits, under eye badges
and Glide for our feet. As someone who we’d miss this year, it was delightful
to know we’d walk with a piece of her with us.
Before we knew it,
walk weekend had arrived! As we do every year, first stop was Event Eve on
Friday night. This is a time when all walkers are invited to the host hotel to
turn in any last minute donations, shop at the AVON39 store, grab swag, take
photos, register for next year, etc. We did all that and more! Each year I fill
out a form requesting to be a media walker, someone who is available throughout
the weekend to speak with the press about the journey. For the past 2 years I’ve
been selected, and although I’ve never actually been called upon, I get a cool
media walker button and know that I could be asked to speak on behalf of our philanthropic
community at any time. So I checked in with the media team and then head over
to the “rewards” area. The minimum you need to raise in order to walk is $1800
and there are certain milestones after that for which you are “rewarded.” For
reaching $2200, I received a top fundraiser hat. For reaching $3600, I received
a top fundraiser shirt. I’m able to sport those thanks to my DONORS.
** In 7 years, I
have raised $25,437 for this cause. The team total is $77,350.**
For dinner, we
loaded up on carbs at The Cheesecake Factory. Aside from our appetizer of
mac ‘n cheese balls (oh my goodness, yum), I ordered a huge Louisiana-style
pasta dish that was a little piece of heaven. After many months of counting
calories, this was going to be a weekend (and apparently week after) of
splurging. We waddled home (well, we drove, but it was slow and steady), made sure our bags were packed and our first day outfits were ready … and then
passed out.
Alarm went off at 4:00
a.m.! Even when you think you’re prepared, the morning comes too quickly
and you find yourself running around with duffel bags and shoes and swag flying
everywhere. We arrived at the host hotel at 5:30 a.m. and left the car there. We,
along with hundreds of others, would be shuttled to opening ceremonies at Stude
Park. Upon arrival, we immediately got in line for breakfast. Then we filled
our Camel-backs with water, made sure our swag looked good and got in place for
group stretching and morale. Along with the re-branding were the introduction
of connection bands, which shared for whom you walk – someone you love, someone
you miss, everyone, yourself. I picked everyone.
And then they
announced that Houston walkers and crew raised $2.7 million this year. Wow.
Money for research. Money for mammograms. Money for meals. We did that. Us
daughters and sisters and fathers and husbands and friends and colleagues. We
reached out and our donors answered. One of my favorite quotes reads, “The
greatest thing you can do in your life is – with pride, with power – to ask
somebody to change the world. Worlds can be changed a dollar at a time, five
dollars at a time. And when somebody is feeling powerless in life, what makes
them feel great is when they give. When you give, you feel generous. When you
feel generous, you feel powerful.”
The route opened
at 7:00 a.m. sharp. We were on our way to crush miles and make memories.
And then 7:05 a.m. came. And brought torrential downpour. And thunder. And
lightning. By the time we put on our ponchos, we were soaked. The funny thing
about heavy rain is, it doesn’t just come from the sky. Once enough of it hits
the ground, it creeps up and then you’re walking in moving puddles disguised as
shoes. This was, to put it mildly, quite uncomfortable (and why we carry
extra socks in our Camel-backs). The heavy rain continued for about 2 hours. And
I know what you’re thinking – how could we stand it? Well, the thing
is, walking in rain is better than sitting in chemo. Blisters are temporary,
fierce is forever.
To keep us from drowning
in our sorrows (see what I did there?), we kept busy by making
new friends (whose Rosie the Riveter shirts matched ours), high-fiving the
amazing crossing guards keeping us safe along the route, petting strange dogs,
taking pictures with the Houston skyline, admiring statues and eating every
piece of candy offered at the rest stops. After a few hours and 10 solid miles, my mom and Lauren made the difficult decision
to stop walking. With the downpour followed by the heat and humidity, it was
just too much. So, we made the “X” sign with our arms and a sweep van came by
to grab them and shuttle them to lunch, only a few miles away. I went on on foot, full
speed, to meet them there so we could eat together.
When I arrived at
lunch (mile 13.1 – halfway through the day), we grabbed our turkey
sandwiches and sat in the sun to continue drying off. My mom and Lauren determined
they were done for the day, so they’d get shuttled right to base-camp after
lunch. I knew I would continue walking, but because of the rain (and walking in
puddle shoes), I visited the medical tent to get my feet checked out. I was
happy I did because the nurse found three toes that were thinking about
possibly becoming blistered. She wrapped me up and sent me on my way! The
second half of the day was just as unpleasant as the first half. The heat and
humidity were killer, some of the streets/sidewalks weren’t paved as nicely as you’d
wish for a long walk and I didn’t have my team with whom I could pass the time.
I met a woman named Lynn, part of the Texas Lady Cop group, around mile 15 and
we walked together for a while. Then I met two women named Kathy and Melissa
around mile 19 and we walked together until mile 22.
At the mile 22
rest stop, I sat down on the curb. I was feeling dizzy, disoriented and a
little nauseous. Once again I visited medical and after some observation we
determined I was really dehydrated and it was best for me to stop walking for
the day. I was frustrated, disappointed and sad. I have never not completed the
full 26.2 miles on day one. Had I not trained enough in the Houston heat? Had I
made the rookie mistake of not drinking enough during the day? Was I, a 7-year
team captain, really going to stop before crossing the day one finish line? The
answer was yes and I was truly upset. I got on the rest stop shuttle bus and
started to think about everyone I was letting down. My teammates, who believe
in my strength. My donors, who believe that if they give their dollars, I will
give my miles. Myself, who when asked each year if I’ll do the whole thing,
responds emphatically with “of course, it’s not an option.”
When I arrived at
base-camp, my mom and Lauren were waiting for me with smiles, water and an
already-set-up tent. I lay down for a few minutes to “sober up,” then I took a
shower and we went to the dining tent. While we were eating, the idea came up
to not tent, but instead go back to my apartment and recuperate. All three of
us were hurting in different ways and I was not re-hydrating all that quickly. After
maybe 20 minutes of discussing the possibility back and forth (I was so torn
with again doing something I’d never done before – sleeping at home and not in
a tent), we finally decided it was in our best interest to go home for a good
night’s rest. My biggest concern was coming back stronger than ever for day
two, and I had a firm yes from Lauren that if we indeed went home to sleep, she
would be ready with a smile to join me for day two. While waiting for the
shuttle home, we sat next to a large blow up that read “the power of 39 is in
you.” It got me thinking about my feeling of failure that day. After reading it
over and over again, and shedding some tears, I realized that regardless of the
day’s result, I have the power of 39 in me. Every year I dig deep. Every year I
give it all I’ve got. And for that, I am proud.
The next morning I
was ready to rock ‘n roll! Nothing was going to stop me from crossing that
finish line – I was tough. I was fierce. I had the power. My mom drove Lauren
and me back to base camp where day two would begin and we shot off like there
was no tomorrow. We were passing miles left and right. This day was going to
fly by! And then, at mile 35 (only 4.3 miles to go), Lauren got overheated and
needed to stop. She told me to keep going and said she would get shuttled to
the finish line to meet me. It’s difficult as a team captain, which I expressed
to Lauren, to know what to do when someone says they can’t go on anymore. Should
I encourage them to push themselves further? Or should I trust that they’ve
already gone through their thoughts and feelings and just wave goodbye as I keep
going? In reality I think it’s different with different people. With Lauren,
she’s a smart cookie and knows when she needs to stop (she’s also not a rookie –
it was her second year). So I went on without her.
When I got to the
mile 38 rest stop (just 1.3 miles to go), I got a text from Lauren that
said she made it to mile 36, heard Taylor Swift’s “Shake It Off” and was
determined to finish the Walk. That’s what I’m talking about! So I sat down,
stretched, took some selfies, filled up on Gatorade and waited for my dear
friend to arrive. When she did, in true Lauren form, she had taken off her
shoes and was walking in her flip flops. I told her she was crazy. She didn’t
care. We continued on. And then … we heard it … the sea of people cheering on
the finishers. And then … we saw it … the big finish line banner. And then … we
saw her … my mom in our matching outfit … waving and pointing at us … ready to
walk hand-in-hand through the finish line … as Team Tit-Tastic.
I’m always amazed
by how I feel after a Walk. Almost immediately after I cross the finish
line, I miss it. I miss hitting my fundraising goals. I miss training with the
gusto of someone who has a major journey ahead of them. I miss the energy of
opening ceremonies and the accomplishment of closing ceremonies. I miss the
crossing guards and the crew. I miss the other walkers, with fun t-shirts and
smiles and their own stories. I miss the feeling of YES I CAN with each passing
mile marker. I miss my teammates.
Together we support
the fighters, admire the survivors, honor the taken, and never, ever give up
hope. It is a beautiful piece of my life's journey for which I am beyond
grateful. This is Avon 39: The Walk To End Breast Cancer.
SEE FULL ALBUM OF PHOTOS FROM OUR WALK WEEKEND >>
Breast cancer facts >>
Breast cancer help, support and guidance >>
2014 D.C. Walk blog >>
2014 D.C. Walk photos >>
2013 D.C. Walk blog >>
2013 D.C. Walk photos >>
Monday, June 30, 2014
Avon Walk 2014 - D.C.
Around New Years,
I opened a fortune cookie to find this piece of advice: If you continually
give, you will continually have. As though the Chinese food spirits knew my
spring plans, it immediately got me thinking about the Avon Walk for Breast
Cancer and how I felt starting my 6th journey. Each year I give my
time, money and heart to this cause. Why? I give because I believe there is
hope for a future without breast cancer. I give because I’ve seen both pain and
survival. I give because this community of philanthropists inspires me to do
more. I give because I can. So then you may ask, what do I get out of it? I’ll tell
you. Hope. Love. Strength. And so much more…
One of my favorite
things about the Avon Walk is the opportunity to get others involved.
Granted most of my friends and family choose to participate as donors and/or cheerleaders,
there are a select few women each year who choose to join me as Walkers. Team
Tit-Tastic has been as big as eight members and as small as two (just mom and
me in 2013), but a force to be proud of nonetheless. So in mid-January I sent out
an email to former teammates, friends and family hoping for a few brave souls
to join the 2014 team. My mom was ready to tackle another year and two ADPi sisters, Lauren and Anna, signed on as well. I couldn’t
wait to get started – I knew this team would be special.
In my first email
to the team each year, I like to include a quote that’s resonated with me for a
while now: “The greatest thing you can do in your life is – with pride,
with power – to ask somebody to change the world. Worlds can be changed a
dollar at a time, five dollars at a time. And when somebody is feeling
powerless in life, what makes them feel great is when they give. When you give,
you feel generous. When you feel generous, you feel powerful.” This quote
reminds me that I’m asking my teammates to join me in changing the world. I’m
asking my donors to join me in changing the world. I’m asking myself to
continue dedicating my life to changing the world.
I won’t bore you with the highs and lows of fundraising,
but rest assured, January through May brought forth many solicitation emails,
quite a bit of social media posting and teammates constantly motivating each
other to push harder to achieve our $1800 minimums.
Toward the end of
January I got a call from my mom with some fun news! Guess what she found
while surfing the Avon website? Team Tit-Tastic holding the Food & Friends sign back in 2012. What an honor to be featured on the page of a program that
has provided 1 million home-delivered, nutritious meals and specialized
nutrition support to more than 2,250 breast cancer clients and their families
in Washington D.C.!
At the beginning of February, the Avon Walk
held a Great Start Party. In my six years participating in this Walk, I’d
never been, so I was excited to check out what the evening had to offer. Anna
and I were the only two teammates able to attend, so we arrived, grabbed some
food and took a look around. There were probably 200 people there – a much
larger crowd than I was expecting. It was a mix of veteran Walkers, rookie
Walkers and people who hadn’t registered yet looking for more information. A
few speeches were made – sweet and tear-jerking as I expected. There was a table to
check out Reebok gear, a banner from a past year to take your photo in front of, a raffle (oh my
goodness, I won a foot spa/massage thing!) and some other information tables.
All in all it was a good night and I’m glad we went if for no other reason than
to get a little more pumped about the coming months.
The next important
matter for our team was creating t-shirts. Each year I ask that team
members brainstorm slogans and imagery to reflect our journey, then come
together and pick one best suited for us as a whole. This year, to mix things
up, we decided to ditch the pink (I know, it was scary for me, too) and go with
red, white and blue writing. It made sense – we Walk in the U.S. capital. And
it would be different – we’d definitely stand out in the crowd on Walk Weekend. Thus was created – Star Spangled Boobs!
Later in February,
it was time to make a huge cut. Haircut that is! While I do love (and
prefer) my long hair, I know that someone out there needs it more than I do. I’ve
felt really good about donating to Pantene’s Beautiful Lengths campaign for the
past several years and love seeing friends and family donate, too. Here is a beautiful video of a 3-year old little girl donating her hair. I dare you not
to cry...
Another one of my
favorite things about the Avon Walk is the attention they pay to milestones.
By mid-March of this year, I reached the $1800 minimum and a few days later, I received
a postcard from my Walker Buddy congratulating me on the accomplishment. That
made me feel great! And then a few weeks later, I surpassed a 6-year total of
$21,000 raised, and received a phone call from the NYC office. Of course I’m
always striving for more and want to push my goals further, but every once in a
while I have to remember to just stop and smile. I want to make a difference
and I want to show others that they too can make a difference. I am doing what I
set out to do 6 years ago – changing the world one dollar at a time – and
amidst all the fundraising and training, I have to give myself a pat on the
back.
With such a busy
work schedule this spring, the month of April went by in a flash and before I knew
it, it was Walk Weekend! First on the agenda was Event Eve – an evening
hosted at a D.C. hotel where Walkers can turn in any last minute donations, get
their tenting assignments, purchase items from Avon, Nike and Reebok, sign up
for next year’s Walk (you know I did!), take fun pictures, grab more swag and
meet other Walkers. I just love the energy and feel proud walking among both
rookie and veteran philanthropists! One
new thing for me this year – I was asked to be a Volunteer Spokesperson during
Walk Weekend. That basically means that I get a special button that reads Avon
Walk Media Walker and if media outlets are looking for a Walker to speak with
at any time during the weekend, the Avon staff have my phone number and will
pull me aside to do an interview. I’d never applied for this before, so I was
thrilled to be offered the opportunity.
We get to Opening
Ceremonies at the Washington Monument and I am overcome with excitement! Another
weekend is here and another journey is about to begin! We fill our Camelbacks
with water, visit the restrooms and start taking pictures (obviously). We get a
great shot of the team with the Washington Monument in the background, wearing
our Star Spangled Boob shirts proudly… we get one of my father with an Every 3
Minutes ribbon around his neck because he is the cutest cheerleader ever… we
get one of the team and my father with our Tit-Tastic banner that attracts
quite a few looks and requested photos from other teams (my mom is a quilting
beast)… we get one of the thousand Walkers warming up with some stretching and
upbeat music… we get one of the sign that shows D.C. raised $4.5 million this
year!
And then we’re off
– in a sea of pink (and our red, white and blue) – on the 39.3 mile journey
that is the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer! We pass the Jefferson Memorial,
the Martin Luther King, Jr. Memorial, the Capitol Building… cars pass us and
honk and wave… some groups of Walkers speed away while others take photos like
tourists seeing this beautiful city for the first time… Mile 1 comes and
goes quickly… I give high fives to the crossing guards at busy intersections
(some of whom I recognize and are helping in their 10th Walk)… I
read all the shirts that Walk near me – “I walk for babes everywhere,” “Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boobs,”
“For Tits and Giggles.”
At the Mile 8 rest
stop I see my jammin’ friend Kari and grab a few graham cracker with peanut
butter sandwiches. If you’ve ever done the Walk, or have ever listened to
me talk about the Walk, you know these sandwiches are the bomb. Around Mile 9,
Lauren’s friends come to meet us and walk a few miles. We pass a group of male
cheerleaders, one of whom has a sign cut out so his hands fit through that
reads “Free Mammograms.” Love it. At this time, my mom decides she’s gone
as far as she can on her first day. I’m proud of her for knowing and listening
to her own body. We will eat lunch together and then see her later that evening
at the Wellness Village.
I am so lucky that
every year I share moments of love, passion and strength with thousands of
inspiring souls at the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer. Together we support the
fighters, admire the survivors, honor the taken, and never, ever give up hope.
It is a beautiful piece of my life's journey for which I am beyond grateful.
Breast cancer facts>>
Breast cancer help, support and guidance>>
2013 D.C. Walk blog>>
2013 D.C. Walk photos>>
Breast cancer help, support and guidance>>
2013 D.C. Walk blog>>
2013 D.C. Walk photos>>
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)