SGK 3 Day for the Cure DC. (Part 2)

Sunday morning I lay there in my sleeping bag, in our coffin of a pink tent, listening to the rain fall on nylon. To my left, in his own tent, Joe was snoring away. I could hear others outside breaking down camp. The sound of zippers and whispers filled the air.  Anticipating the day ahead I knew I would not be able to fall back asleep so I got up to get a head start. I figured I would need it, and I wasn't wrong. I crawled out of my tent with a towel and my toiletry bag in hand and high stepped it through the wet grass down to the showers. After showering I hit the medic supply tent to grab a fistful of moleskin and head back to my tent to assess the situation. While I was sitting in that tent alone covering my toes in moleskin and listening to my brother telling my sister she needs to get up because he's not pulling her in the tent 20 miles, I glanced over to the corner of the tent where my day pack lay. Pinned to that day pack was a list of 25 names; mothers, sisters, daughters, aunts, cousins, and friends.

These names were my people's people.  I may not know them, but someone I love does.  In that moment, thinking of the people who supported me so that I could be here, I decided I wasn't going to allow some nurse to tell me what I can't do.  I downed some Motrin put medical tape and extra socks in my pack and broke camp so we could go grab some food.
After breakfast we hopped in line to leave camp.  It was a perfectly overcast 70 degree day as we stood in line with hundreds of other people.  There was a buzz about,  an electricity that comes with anticipation.

While in line we got chummy with this guy:

He was walking with his family in memory of his mother.  He was a favorite among walkers and everyone around him quickly formed a line to get a picture with him.

 This is Dave. He parked his mini cooper at several locations along our route each day and sat on the tailgate with a big pink bucket of candy.  He was always smiling, always encouraging and he fast became someone we looked forward to seeing.

Joe with "Leotard Larry" as my sister dubbed him. 

By now we were adept at deciphering between between the "Angry City Driver" car horn and the "WE LOVE YOU DC WALKERS" car horn. And when we heard the latter all hands instinctively went  in the air in acknowledgment and gratitude.  

This is Marshall Moneymaker.  I have a very special place in my heart for this guy.

Marshall is a firefighter with Montgomery County Fire and Rescue and can be spotted by his pink fire helmet.  His intersections always had the best music and after the last of the walkers passed through his intersection he would roll by (on the way to his next intersection further down the route) blasting music and serenading us. It wasn't until I got home and found him on facebook that I came to know the story of how he became a warrior in pink. Marshall lost all 3 of his sisters to Breast Cancer. You can find out more about his promise to help find a cure on his website For3sisters.com

Once again, Duckman. He touched my arm and it was hard not recoiling.

These ladies were right behind us for most of the walk Sunday. They sang out songs like "let me see your tootsie roll" when we passed by Dave and his bucket of candy. They were either a really upbeat and fun bunch of girls or they were delirious with exhaustion, like us.   Likely a little of both.

About halfway through the day we rounded a corner and this was the view.  Our final destination.

Seeing that monument in the distance, knowing how far we had come and what little distance we had left to go, well its hard to describe but I think my heart leaped. 
As we were approaching DuPont Circle, where a huge cheering station waited for us,  I received a text from a dear friend of mine, Jitka, from back home in NC. She asked if we were anywhere near DuPont because they were dining there.  I was still 5 minutes, maybe more, away so we never got to connect but they got to see the procession of pink, my fellow walkers, And just knowing that they were there somewhere in the crowd was comforting.  Love you mama!

We came across this gal in the last 5 miles. She was one of many supporters that lined the sidewalk who clapped, cheered and most importantly called out "thank you!"

The last few miles of our 60 mile journey brought us into the heart of DC.  The streets are laid out in a grid pattern and walkers stretched out in front, and behind of us for miles. Arrows were posted on every sign and street lamp, reminding us to stay the course, despite the imerging temptation to veer.

As we trod down the road, heading north, we crossed an intersection and looked to the east to see walkers (leading us by a half mile or more) heading southbound.  They waved to us in sympathy.
I'm pretty sure I dropped an Eff Bomb at that point.  The route is just snaking through the city and though the monument is close,  just hidden behind the high rises, we haven't any idea how close, or far, we actually are.  That is, until we come to a sign that reads: 

NO SWEEP BEYOND THIS POINT.

No matter how far behind you are, you're close enough to make it the rest of the way.  And again my heart leaped. 

We stopped by the Obama's to say hi but Leslie and Chris didn't want to go in. You know, them being republicans and all.

And then there it was. Laid out beyond the hot dog, and merchandise carts was The Final Intersection. We crossed the street to a sidewalk lined with people, fellow walker's loved ones waiting to embrace them and high five-ing us as we pass.

As we stepped over the threshold from sidewalk to the grass of the national mall I was overcome with emotion. It was bittersweet to say the least. Amid thousands of people and with tears streaming down our faces my sister and I embraced with the understanding that we were not alone in our journey.  To be there in that moment with my brother, sister and niece is an experience that will tie us together for always. In alliance for two sisters with breast cancer.

As the walkers were organized for the processional into the closing ceremony they separated us from the
survivors.  Walkers went down to the stage area first.  And lining our path down was every single member of the crew and route safety. As always cheering us forward.

This photo was taken after the ceremony.

When the survivors began to make their way down the path to the 'survivors circle', a platform stage at the center of where the walkers were gathered, all 2000 of us raised a sneaker high in the air to salute both the survivors and those who have lost their fight.

                                                  What a powerful moment that was.

Team 3 sisters, after having walked every single step of 60 miles.  

This walk was an incredible life changing event for me. I have to admit, before we began I had the attitude:  'I raised the money, that's all that really matters.  If I don't finish, no biggie...' 

I was, in fact, wrong.

What really matters is being present for something bigger than you had ever imagined. Connecting with strangers, inspiring each other to go farther, to do more.  For Someone Else. We all have our reasons for being involved in the fight against breast cancer but the 3 day leaves you with an immeasurablee sense of pride and accomplishment.

That weekend, I was a warrior in pink; a part of a community of people who understood my grief and share my hope for a world without Breast Cancer.

 60 Miles.  I can do that.