The Adventure Begins

60 miles, man. 60 miles in 3 days. I'll tell you what... that... is a lotta walkin'.



And up until this morning, I was kinda thinkin' no. Sure, it's a great cause and who doesn't like healthy, happy breasteses? But 60 miles? And I gotta CAMP in between? AND I gotta raise at least $2,200 to participate at all? Well, that's just a big ole pile o' stinky poo. To Hell with That, I say.

Oh but then I went to the orientation this morning. And now? Well now I have to do it.

First of all, let me just say how much I hate Worcester. Mmmhmm... a city planned by sadists. The orientation meeting was at the YWCA on Salem St and the directions looked so... unrealistically simple. Right off the exit, left at the first intersection. You know what the first intersection was? Kelly Square. Now, if you've ever been to Worcester and experienced the horror of Kelly Square, well you're just laughing at me right now. "Left" in Kelly Square is among the most ambiguous set of directions EVER!

(although this map might have helped at the time.... maybe)

So I take ah left--actually, that one that inaccurately points to the airport--and end up going all sorts of the wrong way. Luckily, Worcester's not that big. I ended up finding the rest of the roads mentioned in my mapquest directions and followed them--backwards--to the YWCA. Oh Worcester. You saucy minx. You will not tempt me with your siren song.

Leaving Worcester wasn't nearly as hard. Just drive in the opposite direction of the nearest I-290 sign and you'll find the highway eventually.

Moving on...

The meeting itself was ... some sort of cross between inspiration and relief. Is there a word for that? Relirational? Inspileifing? I certainly didn't bite my thumb to keep from crying during the introductory video, if that's what you're wondering. I'm way tougher than that.

*sniffle*

But it wasn't just the video chock full of the kind of scenes that make Hallmark commercials look like sitcoms--I do believe I lost my thumbnail to unconscious chewing when the two little kids ran out in front of their mom to hug her legs and show her their "You're my hero!" posters--it was the other women in the room as well. They all seemed so confident in their ability to pull this gig off. And these are normal, average-framed women, not althetes and gym whores. Looking around that room, I thought in a not at all modest way, well if they can do this, surely I can. I'm sort of in shape. I excercise several times a week. I have excellent blood pressure, if that's at all relevent.

So I listened with rapt interest to how easy it would be to raise the money. We talked and schemed up some good fundraising ideas. I jotted down a list of ideas for my own campaign--p.s. bring tissues--and an overwhelming enthusiasm filled my bloated head.

I didn't register though. I didn't have any money with me. Damnit, I missed out on the free t-shirt for registering today. ... I love free t-shirts.

And if the floaty head feeling as I left the Y wasn't enough, you know what song was playing on the radio as I left? Independant Woman. If that ain't a sign....

So I'm in. Just gotta wait for that happy paycheck this Thursday and I can register online. And boy howdy do I have some ideas. Stay tuned, kids, for This Shall Be My Most Glorious Endeavor Yet!