Worth every blister

By Gloria “G” Conway

Hi, friends and family,
I made it! Three days of walking, stories, blisters, sore muscles and an ankle injury. This is my second year participating in this event and I was especially proud to have my daughter walking by my side this time.
This year, the 3-Day 60 Mile journey for the Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer Foundation began on Friday, October 21, at Tempe Beach Park and wound around through the streets of Tempe, ending up at the Rawhide in North Scottsdale.
The inspiring stories and people we met along the way left lasting impressions on both my daughter, “Kid”, and myself.
Along the route there were cheering stations, and on the first day, a woman handed me a card with a picture on it. She told me it was of her daughter who died last year of breast cancer. As we walked on, we noticed that on the back of the card was the woman’s name, her date of birth and date of death. She had been born the same year as me.
This year I did notice quite a few pregnant women walking with us. One who was noticeably pregnant was 11 days from her due date. She is a breast cancer survivor and this is her second pregnancy. She was diagnosed during her first pregnancy. Talk about inspiration!
Saturday morning I had breakfast with a man named Vinnie. He told me this was his third walk. He had done two in New York and recently moved to Chino Valley. He told me his wife had lost her battle with breast cancer six years ago. Vinnie was left with two boys, now eight and 11 years old.
The near 90-degree temperature took its toll. I heard 300 walkers had to be swept from the route Saturday afternoon. Sunday it was very hard to get going. Kid and I were both in pain. I had to use a shoehorn to get my left shoe on. We cinched up our shoes and began walking. A couple hours later, Kid was swept from the route with an ankle injury, so I trudged on by myself.
My biggest inspiration came on Sunday. Along the route were two little girls with their mother and grandmother, waving and holding a sign. I stopped and talked with them. Their mother had a bandana covering her head, bald from chemotherapy. She told me her girls were two and three years old; she was just 27 years old and in stage three of breast cancer (stage four is the worst).
The sign she was holding read: Mastectomy... $28,000, chemotherapy... $45,000, staying alive long enough to watch my daughters grow up... PRICELESS!
As I neared Rawhide I could hear the cheers from friends and family as other walkers entered. Emotions kicked in and tears streamed down my face as I crossed the finish line, sunburned, hurting and knowing I had the mother of all blisters on my left heel. I had made it. My 60-mile journey had just ended but it was the memories, the people, the survivors and the knowing that many had just started their walks; many are still fighting and many have lost their fight.
So, today as I heal my wounds, I am thankful for friends, family and especially proud of my “Kid”.

Take care of yourselves,
"G"