How the 2006 Breast Cancer 3-Day Helped Me to Learn How to Live My Life

It was my daughter's doing...

It was not until 2006 that I had even heard of the Breast Cancer 3-Day. She had called me around February that year to tell me that she was going to walk the event, but before she had an opportunity to ask me to support her by making a financial donation, I announced, "Okay, I'll do it with you!" followed by, "How far are we walking?"

Having had several friends over the years that had been affected by or lost their lives to breast cancer, it was certainly a cause I supported. But for me to have then considered walking 60 miles over 60 days was unthinkable. Over a 3-day period...sheer lunacy!

I have to admit that my motive for registering for the Seattle event was purely selfish. I wanted to be able to rebuild a better relationship with my daughter. (Read the full story at "How Walking the 2006 Seattle Breast Cancer 3-Day Changed My Life." )

Not only did the 3-Day experience pave the road for healing our relationship, I formed some wonderful friendships with some amazing women I met during training walks and through events associated with the cause. I have seen other people align themselves with this event, when they rarely get involved in much else of life.

The Breast Cancer 3-Day, beginning with my daughter's initial call, also started a chain of events that changed the course of my life forever. Life began for me at 50 years old.

How It Taught Me about My Career Path

In 2006, I was not particularly satisfied with my working life. Of course, there were aspects of my job that I liked-coaching and teaching others, problem-solving, and community involvement-but the company was just not a good fit for me. I'd been accused a few months earlier of being "too bold, too outspoken, and calling too much attention to things needing changed."

Soon after I'd started training for the 3-Day, I attended a meeting of participants to discuss how to approach both fundraising and the physical training for the event. Facilitating this meeting was a 3-Day "Coach." As I listened and watched her conduct this meeting, I saw myself doing what she did, so afterwards I approached her and asked, "How does someone get a job doing what you are doing?" She informed me that they were hiring "Seasonal Coaches" and I submitted my resume the following day.

Having done my research, I knew instantly, when I saw "Boldness" listed as one of the six core values of the company that I was supposed to work with this organization! I was hired for a seasonal position, and made the decision to leave the other company.

For seven months, I worked "virtually" from my home in Tacoma, Washington, as a Coach to walkers in the 2006 Dallas/Fort Worth Breast Cancer 3-Day. Even though the relationships to the walkers and my co-workers were built remotely using computer-mediated communication and the telephone, the atmosphere and company culture was cooperative, positive and supportive.

Never before had I experienced the levels of respect, compassion, accountability, and responsibility among all the employees as I did working on the project. I flew to Dallas in October for the event, working side-by-side these amazing men and women on the event. And I had so many walkers seek me out to thank me or give me a hug for being with them throughout the journey.

Though I was sad to see the project end in November, working for the 3-Day project gave me a confidence in myself and my ability to lead by example, inspiring others to look past what they perceive to be a challenge. You see, those whom impacted me most were the true leaders who inspired me to see beyond my challenges.

How It Taught Me to Not Give Up

A few days after the end of my contract, I flew to San Diego to walk again in the final event of the 2006 season. This time, it was not for my relationship to my daughter, but because I felt a connection not only to the people with whom I worked or walked, but also to myself. Now it was time for me to push myself to see if I could surpass what I'd been able to accomplish the first time I had walked the event, and walking because awareness must be raised and a cure must be found.

The San Diego 2006 Breast Cancer 3-Day was also an incredible experience. First of all, who can resist San Diego in November? It was beautiful the entire weekend, warm and sunny, and the route along the beaches was amazing! It was a larger event than the other two I'd experienced, with an estimated five THOUSAND walkers! The supporters also came out in droves.

This time, however, I was no longer employed. Nor had I yet raised all the required donations, having exhausted my network, concentrating on raising the money for the Seattle event, and helping others on my team raise their minimums of $2200. Someone graciously paid for my plane fare to San Diego. Another friend arranged for reduced cost in hotel accommodations that night, while another picked me up from the airport, and arranged for lowered cost ground transportation to the event from my hotel to the opening ceremonies. I agreed that I would cover the $900 I was short on the donations, should I not be able to raise the amount within the month after the event...and I was without a job, scheduled to leave for Sweden on a 5-week vacation in December.

I admit that I hesitated momentarily before committing myself by stepping across the starting line. I took it on faith that somehow it would all come together, because I was walking this event for all the right reasons-this time for the women I knew who had lost their battles to the disease and for others who were not able to walk because they were fighting the disease.

Physically, I was in much better shape than I was for the Seattle event, though I was still not an athlete. Yet, I had more stamina; and though not a very fast walker, I noticed I could plod along for a longer period of time. I did not get as sore, nor was I fatigued as quickly. I walked further each day than I had at the Seattle event.

I pushed myself through several miles of "uphill" battles, counting out 60 steps each as I plodded my way up each hill each of three days. That first day, I made it up the toughest of hills from the beach through the Torrey Pines State Natural Reserve, stopping to catch my breath after each 60 steps. When I wanted to quit, I would count in Spanish, and then German. I found myself stopping after every 10 steps from time-to-time. I felt a true sense of accomplishment.

By the third day, I was exhausted. I continued to push my way through and on the third day, I was determined to walk the entire route without taking advantage of a sweep van. I barely made it to most of the pit stops in time for a break, before having to leave again before it was mandatory for the event folks to take me to the next stop. I had never pushed myself as hard as I did that day throughout the route. Nor had I ever remembered relying on others to help motivate me to keep on going.

Toward the end of the third day, I was ready to quit. My legs were ready to give out. I do not remember much about that final day, except that the bicycle squad from the San Jose Police Department who take time off to be involved with the San Diego event and were all donning pink shirts and dark shorts, encouraged me along the way, as did the supporters cheering along the route. I took in the words as the "caboose" (the staff member on bicycle who stays with the last walker on any given route throughout the event) and others encouraged me and told me that I had it in me to finish.

I seem to remember that there were other walkers on the route that day, but I was so focused on fighting my battle with my legs and feet that I didn't pay much attention to much else. I tried to concentrate on my purpose for putting myself out that route. I talked a lot (in my head) to those I knew who had faced the pains of treatment-chemotherapy, radiation, surgeries, and uncertainties. And I pleaded with them to keep me going, as I was "not going to be swept through in the van."

How It Taught Me to Accept the Gifts Life Gives Graciously

Finally, I turned a corner and made it down the final stretch. I saw Petco Park in the distance...the final destination where the Closing Ceremonies were taking place. There were people lined up on the streets and just outside the entrance to the stadium, all cheering.

The "caboose" told me to turn and look behind me. The San Jose Police were walking behind me now, two-by-two, escorting me into Petco Field. And as I turned back around and entered the gates, I was met with thousands of cheering supporters, walkers, staff members, and a camera man walking backward with a television camera in my face.

The noise was deafening. I felt faint. I was overwhelmed. I saw a sea of faces, but could not hear myself think. I was being touched and patted on the back by, literally, thousands of people. It was at that moment I realized that I was the last walker in.

Once inside, having gotten through the throng, my former co-worker (and caboose) told me, "I was not going to let the stragglers having coffee at the Starbucks a couple of blocks away be the last walkers in. You deserved that honor. You worked hard for it."

"Stragglers?" I asked. I had been oblivious to it.

I started to sob as I realized that things had come around full circle. She had offered the same support to me that I had offered to Sirena at the Seattle event (Read about Sirena.) The caboose had protected and encouraged me, and was determined to see me through to the end. I didn't ask her to do so. She did it because she believed in me and what I was trying to accomplish.

The four weeks that followed my return home from the event were spent winding down from the previous eight months of a complete immersion in the Breast Cancer 3-Day culture...as a walker, as a supporter, as an employee, as a coach, and as a fundraiser. There were times I felt lost, not sure what I was going to do next, and certainly not sure where I was going to come up with the last $824 needed to fulfill my obligation.

As bold and outgoing as I can be, I let people know of my 3-event involvement while I was on the event in San Diego. I also shared that I was now unemployed, and wasn't sure how it was going to pan out, but my commitment was to the cause.

The day before the money was to come out of my account, and only two days before I left for Sweden, a generous 3-Day supporter from San Diego, whom I did not know, made an $800 donation on my fundraising page. I had a $20 check from another local friend. Once again, I was so completely awed by what others were willing to do, because we shared common values. It was one of the most humbling experiences in my life.

What I Learned About Life, Myself, and Others

I learned many things about life and how to live more abundantly, because I was involved with the 2006 Breast Cancer 3-Day. Three separate events-two as a walker, one as a coach/event staff.

I learned how to forgive. I learned how to become more patient with others, but also with myself. I learned how to offer support without being overbearing.

I learned what a joy it can be to work with others who truly share a common goal and who have a sense of humor about themselves. I learned that others value what I have to offer.

I learned how to better accept the love and compliments others share with me. I learned how to give of myself more genuinely to others.

I learned how to ask for help when I need it, and how to accept help offered from others, even when I am too embarrassed to ask. I learned that others give freely of themselves when I'm open to accept their graciousness.

I learned how to trust others. I learned how to trust myself and my instincts.

I learned how to "let go" of things that were unimportant or over which I have no control. I learned to trust that a power greater than myself is at work in my life.

And I learned that I have much more to learn before my time is up...

...and it's all my daughter's doing.

Note: The author received a diagnosis of early stage breast cancer the following year in June 2007. After choosing a mastectomy and DIEP reconstruction, as of this writing, she is currently cancer-free. Her mission is to make others aware that early detection is key to beating this disease and that as long as there is a fight in her, she will continue to fight with others who have had to deal with this disease.