Day 3 - The final 16

And here we are...day 3. It's been a long time to get to this blog, but alas I'm here. Still not ready to put my actual emotional thoughts down on the blog - sifting through them still. But I promise tomorrow or Saturday they'll be here. Cuz I know you're dying to hear them -er um - read them.

Day 3 for practical purposes was a lot like day 1 and 2, walking. Though the nice thing about day 3 is you have a significant goal in mind. You can see the pink light at the end of the pink victory tunnel. You're almost there. Just 16 miles between you and the light.

I felt better on Sunday and was determined to walk the 16. We got up early and headed to BigBro's house where he Frankenstein'd my foot so I had some extra padding to walk on. He did a good job too cuz it only hurt for a bit.

Sunday's trek took us through the streets of Seattle. In fact, it took us through a lot of streets in Seattle that were our training ground. Oh the familiar - the stable - the uneven sidewalks...welcome home. We started off at the Arboretum and head through the University of Washington campus. I had to do my usual "GO COUGs" as we marched through (UW and WSU Cougs are rivals you see - and I'm a Coug). School hasn’t quite started for the U yet, but Greek Week was just getting underway. We walked through Greek row who’s many houses had music blaring at unacceptable decibels for these old ears.

Our first cheer station was to be at Greenlake. Our old friend Greenlake. Many a training walks started and ended there. Many miles around her shores. It was like visiting an old friend. The cheering erupted as we crossed the street. Three days in and I still get a lump in my throat from the “thank you’s”. Whenever possible we’d respond, “NO thank YOU.” It really is what keeps us going. You get little energy in your step when walking through a crowd of people who think you’re a hero – see – tears!

Rounding the north end of Greenlake we saw them. Our walker stalkers. Well, truth be told, we heard them long before we saw them. You gotta love a loud family sometimes. But there they stood waving and cheering every single walker that passed. I suspected they’d be voiceless by the end of the day. We did our hugs and “how are you?s” and we were off. Destination – lunch.

We wondered through more streets of Seattle that we knew all too well. Hit a pit stop, then headed into the home stretch that would be on Lake Union – lunch. One more questionable tasting lunch. The food throughout wasn’t so great, but then again you were worried more about sustenance than gourmet. I knew that a cheeseburger was in my future so whatever cold, soggy sandwich they gave me would be fine.

The final hill down to lunch my foot started the sharp pains through the entire body act again. That was getting old. I figured I’d rest at lunch and I’d be good to go. Dropping down off the hill into the park, again, we heard our stalkers. We sat. We ate. We changed socks. We drank. We pee’d. We were ready – well almost. The next Grab n’ Go would be a mile away. I figured the 15 minutes it took Blueberry and BigBro to walk it would give me amble time to rest my foot so I could finish the last leg. So The MomUnit took me to the Grab n’ Go. She, Blue’s sister and I sat and cheered on walkers until our walkers came in.

And we were off. Just 4.4 miles left. Wow. I had to stop and really think about that. All the effort, all the sweat, the pain, the early mornings, the blistering, the water, the changing of socks, all of it would be over in 4.4 miles. I felt a pang of sadness.

While we walked on, we waved as people honked and I hit a stride. Wow, did I hit a stride. At one point Blueberry and BigBro were both behind me, which rarely happened. From the Grab n’ Go they said the next and last pit stop would be 2 miles. That was the longest 2 miles in history. Good lord. I thought we’d never get there. The 3 Day was teasing us too, we literally walked around the Seattle center – which was where the finish line was. We could see the Space Needle, but we couldn’t turn right…we had to go left. So unfair.

We walked past Pike Place market and down to the waterfront. Normally not a bad stroll, but on a sunny Sunday in September the place was packed. Which made walking a bit more difficult. The waterfront was no different. A cruise boat was in and had deposited all her tourists on the streets of the waterfront. So not only was I ready to be done, but I had to Jack Nicholson my way through the crowd. I am not a big fan of crowds.

And then we were there, at the top of the hill that drops us down into the Victory tunnel. The tunnel (which isn’t really a tunnel as much as it’s a walk way covered in trees) would be lined with cheering families waiting to welcome their walkers home. Waiting to tell them how proud they were of them and how much it meant to them for us to be out walking. At the top of the hill, we could hear it already. But we had to stop and “dress” ourselves.

Remember the big pink beehive wig of the great Flamingo costume? The one I figured I’d never wear again…? Yah, well it had to be worn. How could I not? So pink wig in place, we started our walk. Wise BigBro was telling us over and over, “Slow down ladies – take it all in”. We crested the hill and as we looked down – well – how do I explain it without crying? Covered in people. Each side was full of people applauding and cheering and yelling “thank you”. Truly amazing. Not something I will soon forget.

And then I saw it. The “Wraspir Friends and Family for the Cure” sign. THOSE were our peeps cheering for us. And no doubt they recognized us instantly, between my foot high beehive and Blueberry’s feather hat. We tried as best we could to take it slow, but the end was in sight. We could literally see the a goal line that would signify months of effort and commitment, we had arrived. We had done it!

Hugs were passed out. Congratulatory comments were made. Tears were cried. Photos were taken. All of it…

ONE

BIG

BLUR

We did our hugs and well done’s and headed into the real party to “check in” and get our shirts. The holding pin – as they called it – was one big rockin house.

We went back outside for photos with the fam and friends. All I wanted to do was sit. My poor tootsies were super sore. So BigBro did what any BigBro would, he helped me get my shoes off and my tootsies into my pink croc flip flops (which for the record rock the casbah for tired feet).

And then it was time to go in for the official closing ceremonies. We lined up, we entered the stadium and we cheered some more. A few tears found their way out too when I saw Blueberry carrying her "Commitment" flag one last time.

And just like that, it was over. The culmination of 9 months training and fundraising - done. In a blink of an eye.

3 Days. 60 Miles. One crazy, wild ride.

Would I do it again? Maybe.