What a great 100th post...

So most everybody knows that I did the “Boston Marathon Jimmy Fund Walk” this weekend. It was an amazing experience and I can’t wait to do it again…
26.2 miles of thinking… Just what I needed!

I spent the vast majority of that time (okay maybe all of it) thinking how much I hate cancer. I don’t hate it like I hate cars that breakdown, friends that disappoint, or family who isn’t trustworthy I hate it like people hate Hitler – NO! I think I hate it more than that. I hate like what it is a stalker who sneaks into your safe place in the dark of night and points a gun at you and plays a little “Russian roulette”. When people I know have gotten that diagnosis I am certain (though with my stoic mom I will never know) that they think (even if just for the briefest of moments) “is this how I am going to go down?”
And then they make a choice – to live (or not) and they do everything in their and medicines power to make that happen. MANY MANY do not make. Many do! I guess there really is no point to this…

Last night I went to storytelling and heard an incredible teller (I won’t mention who because it is her story to tell - not mine) talk about her own mortality. And the choices that she has made because of it. She has chosen to stretch time by not doing the things that are no longer fun for her (or maybe they never were but the were the “right thing to do”) and to surround herself with being (human and otherwise) who make her happy to be alive, to take time in the morning for breakfast and play with the dog at night. She is choosing to say “go to hell terminality” and I think that is what all of us need to do…

Any way back to my walk.. There was never a more perfect day for the walk.. It was just the right amount cold in the morning and warm in the afternoon… I would love to say that I just strolled along and it was wonderful but I would just be lying. I had a hip ache that wouldn’t go away starting at mile 1.5 and blisters that still hurt (and they go to the TOP of my feet – gross). I was fairly certain by mile 9 that I couldn’t do it… I really was just hurting but I told myself I had to do it and if anything I would reevaluate at mile 13.1 (the halfway mark) well literally at the step of halfway (where I was going to make up my mind) Roll on by Alabama came on:

Roll on highway, roll on along
Roll on daddy till you get back home
Roll on family, roll on crew
Roll on momma like I asked you to do
And roll on eighteen-wheeler roll on (roll on)

Well it's Monday morning, he's kissin' momma goodbye
He's up and gone with the sun
Daddy drives an eighteen-wheeler
And he's off on a midwest run

And three sad faces gather round momma
They ask her when daddy's comin' home
Daddy drives an eighteen-wheeler
And they sure miss him when he's gone (yeah they do)

Ah, but he calls them everynight and he tells them
That he loves them
He taught them this song to sing

Roll on highway, roll on along
Roll on daddy till you get back home
Roll on family, roll on crew
Roll on momma like I asked you to do
And roll on eighteen-wheeler roll on (roll on)

Well it's Wednesday evening, momma's waitin by the phone
It rings but it's not his voice
Seems the highway patrol has found a jacknifed rig
In a snow bank in Illinois

But the driver was missin' and the search had been abandoned
For the weather had everything strong
And they had checked all the houses and the local motels
When they had some more news they'd call

And she told them when they found him to tell him
That she loved him
And she hung up the phone singin'

Roll on highway, roll on along
Roll on daddy till you get back home
Roll on family, roll on crew
Roll on momma like I asked you to do
And roll on eighteen-wheeler roll on (roll on)

Momma and the children will be waiting up all night long
Thinkin' nothing but the words just comin'
With the ringin' of the telephone

Oh, but the man upstairs was listening
When momma asked him to bring daddy home
And when the call came in it was daddy on the other end
Askin' her if she had been singin' the song, singin'

Roll on highway, roll on along
Roll on daddy till you get back home
Roll on family, roll on crew
Roll on momma like I asked you to do
And roll on eighteen-wheeler roll on (roll on)

eighteen-wheeler
eighteen-wheeler
eighteen-wheeler
eighteen-wheeler

Roll on

To most people those words don’t mean a damn thing, to mean that meant suck it up bitch and walk the next 13.1. You see my god-father died of brain cancer and he was a truck driver… We used to sing this song to him when he was leaving and occasionally when he came back home. He weakly sung it to us when he was dying… I felt like (feel like?) Dad (I don’t mean my father I mean Joe – I call my father Daddy-o) was telling me that a few little blisters (okay not little) and a few aches and pains were nothing compared to the suffering that all the people in the world who have survived or succumbed to cancer have had.

I was rewarded! As I walked on another mile I realized that for the first time in the whole walk I knew where I was and I was right around the corner from Ginette. After a quick phone call she and Freddy came out with some pain-killers for me. J

The rest of the walk got a lot better the only thing that hurt was my stupid feet (and stupid stupid Payless shoes)

And at mile 25 I was joined by some wonderful people, MY FAMILY!!! Jim and mom had come to cross the line with me. Slowly we walked through the city and happily we crossed the line. And just like any fairytale it had a happy ending…

Not all fairytales have happy endings I learned just the other day… My mom’s cancer fairytale will not have a happy ending there will be no “LIVED happily ever after” for her. But she is happy for now and that is the only goal…

My feet on Monday were not happy

The last mile - walking with friends...

Sitting on the ground after the walk - I love this picture for some reason

Me and my favorite people...

And seriously these were every mile along the oroute - how could you not want to walk another mile for that face!