And In the End ...

Apologies for never finishing this blog. It took some time to process what it all meant to me. But to anyone who happens to stop by and wonder what happened to the Save A Pair lady, here it is:

The 3-Day changed my life. And I'm sure plenty of people have said this and I'm sure some of them could provide a much better story than mine but you're not reading their blog, you're reading mine; so shut up and let me finish. Ahem.

Things, as I expected, went back to normal a few days after the event. All things except me. First of all, I had a naaaasty blister that continued to pester for me for a week. The foot bruises--and now I understand why the Army looks down on the fallen of arch--persisted as well and made sneaker-wearing a necessity for quite some time. And the eating like I was walking 20 miles a day habit took a while to break. But physically, I recovered in time for my brown belt test and completed those 3 hours with plenty of energy to do 3 hours more. It was a fantastic feeling.

Besides that, I was invited to participate in an Instructor Training program at my dojo which led me down a slip-slidery path from being a karate hobby enthusiast to being, as I know apparently am, a Martial Arts Professional. Because, you see, last April--after testing for my second degree brown belt in February and joining a gym to prepare for that in January--I was invited to skip my first degree brown belt altogether and test for black belt in June.

Let me just... pause to explain that 1) this doesn't happen often. It happens, but not often. and 2) this... is a big deal. Black belt test = super hard. In fact first degree brown belt, I was told, was all review, all practice, all prepping for the black belt test and it usually lasts months if not years. So I would being going from 2nd degree brown to black in a matter of 4 months. From 3rd degree brown to black in 8 months. WHITE to BLACK in 2 years and 8 months. May I repeat: Big Deal.

Naturally, I was terrified. And very ... veryvery doubtful about my ability to do this. But part of my self-negotiating was recognizing what I had accomplished last August. 40 miles in 3 days while sleeping on the ground at night, getting up pre-dawn to shower in a truck, spending the entire day outside in sun and bugs and rain and whatever else we happened upon and DAMMIT, if I can do that, I can do 4 hours in a gym and earn a black belt.

Oh yes, children, my amazing experience on the 3-Day gave me the bal-- er... shoes to tackle a premature black belt test and to do so with enthusiasm and energy and absolute confidence in myself. And it was a major factor in my decision to advance a rank sooner rather than wait for a more appropriate length of time. But besides that, it was the impetus to create changes in my life. To take more risks, to change jobs, to change priorities, to change my attitude and certain behaviors, and to give people the benefit of the doubt more often than not because the people I met at the 3-Day were just... the most loving caring people I've ever had the honor of keeping company with.

So love and joy and luck to the people walking this year, and especially to Linda and the Mobile Toys, Inc. team who've adopted Save A Pair (visit them at saveapair.org or donate to them HERE) as their slogan. It's a good one, kids, and I wish you the joy of it.

And to anyone thinking of walking and feeling a little uneasy about those 60 miles or that obscene amount of money to be raised, just do it (and pardon my Nike-ism but Nike, the goddess of Victory is an excellent companion for charity walks and black belt tests alike) and you won't regret it. People will surprise you, the way they come to your aid and support you with money and well-wishes and companionship on your long walk or when your knee gives out on you and you need a rescue vehicle. There is no better remedy for lack of faith in the goodness of humankind that the 3-Day. And boy howdy is it a confidence builder!

More Fun Pictures!

I slack, I know. I've yet to scan the last set of pictures and can't... seem to find my journal at the moment. But it will get done... eventually. For now, here are some pictures from the website www.the3day.org. Look for more pictures in the BOSTON event area.

The Remembrance Tent

A Pit Stop crew monkey. All of the pits had themes. The Broadway one had marquees taped to the port-o-potty doors.

Potty Crew. These people have reserved seats in heaven. They made sure we had plenty o' TP and sanitizing wipes.

Tent City at sunset from an angle unachievable by the wee Wendy. Clearly taken by a giant.

Sweet wonderful safety crew. These people received thundering applause when they arrived at the Closing Ceremony and well they deserved it.

The Boob van drivers!

Day 3 in Pictures--Part 1

Day 3 began somewhere around 4:51 am. It was still super dark as I stumbled my way over to the shower trucks and stood in line no more than 5 minutes before the last of my semi-public group showers.

When I emerged, all clean and smelling like a daisy, I returned to tent village to see this in progress... the beginning of the end. The pack up, clean up, steamroll and sweep up. The end of the tent village:



Miraculously, I managed to de-tent all by myself (although a tent angel stopped by to help me yank a stubborn pole out), handed my duffel off to the crew truck, had some breakfast and headed out. The last thing I saw on my way out: The Pink Angels!



This is a yard I saw that was a little bit awesome. There was a waterfall.



Ok, so I have no pre-lunch pictures (and if you've been following along in my journey, you'll know that I was obsessing over tape at the time and therefore in no position to take pictures) but here's the beginning of the ocean walk, from right around the corner from lunch. Hard to tell from this wee picture but those white dots in front of the trees in the back there are 3DAY walkers. Bunches of 'em.

And when I got to where the dots were... I snapped this:

The beach walk was FANtastic. Like I said, sweet salty breezes and a lovely view of Boston from afar. The two tallest buildings are the Pru and John Hancock. The white dot in the sky... is an airplane.

This is just to prove that there were, in fact, people behind me at some point.

This... is what you look like after 3 days of walking. It's not pleasant, I know. Look away, children, just look away.

Here we have the totally impromptu cheering station that began as 3 people taking a break under a tree. Then I sat down and had myself a snack. Then a group sat down with me. Then a whole bunch more people. Then the Pink Angels stopped by. And within 10 minutes, we had a whole cheering section established.


Oh and THIS was a sight for sore feet if ever there was one. The Bayside Expo Center was the site of the closing ceremonies. There was a scrolling message about the 3DAY but I... didn't stick around to read it. I just wanted to GET THERE.

Day 3 Journal--Part 1

8/6/06

8:19 am

Day 3. Thank Christ it's almost over. I was feeling ok last night but I woke up stiff with feet more sore than I remember them ever being. I was out of my tent before 5 am. I showered, brushed my teeth, repacked and handed my bag off to a crew truck, packed up my tent, ate way too much breakfast--scrambled eggs, sausage, strawberry blintz, home fries and cereal--and was on the route by ten past seven.

It was 3 miles to the first Pit and somehow I managed that in a little over an hour. I was hurtin' but not bad until the last quarter mile. I need to pee. And I'm gonna try to eat. I think I left my Ace bandage in my shower bag, though. Drag. I don't need it yet but I might later.

Man, I really need to pee.

10:16 am

I rolled into Pit 2 sometime before ten. The last 3 were getting rough but that tape I put on my knee was [expletive deleted] miraculous. I used that miracle to walk through my excruciating foot pain. Those damn fallen arches fell a little more this morning. For a while, I was chanting, "tape, tape, tape, tape!" When I got to Pit 2, first I peed (and think I will again before I leave in a few min.) then I limped over to the Med tent and tape the shit out of my feet and ankles. I also found my first blister--on the toe of my right foot--threw a bandage on it and vaselined up. Oranges, peanuts, ice and water later and I'm 'bout ready to jet.

Nell called but it's loud here and I couldn't hear her. Still glad she called. I'll listen to the voice mail later when my tape high wears off. For now, stretch, pee and go. 6.1 miles down. 1.4 to the cheering station. 1.7 to Pit 3 from there.

12:03 pm and I am not feelin' the love. I made it to the cheering station and a little ways beyond--probably about 8 miles since camp--when a safety biker asked me how I was and I said, "I don't know; I might let myself get swept." She was cool, stayed with me for a while, emphasized how much I'd already walked. I need people to tell me it's ok to rest.

I finally got to ride in the martini van too, with a few others. We dropped a dude off at Pit 3 and the rest of us went to lunch. The other 2 walkers in the van were all about ignoring me, though, and I can't understand how some people here can be so great and other people are such [expletive deleted] [expletive deleted]. The negative energy radiating off the people I'm sitting next to is staggering. Sorority girls with perfect fake tans and sunburst tattoos. You know what? They're right about the sandwich being gross but everything they're saying is negative. Maybe I need to move.

I've also yet to get good treatment at a Med tent. The registration lady tried to talk me out of it and then the medic--after I told him it was my first blister and I wanted to see how to treat it--called me a whiner. [Expletive deleted] you, buddy. You walk 8 miles and then treat your own blisters. What the hell? All the other crew members have been great, though, especially the safety crew.

I took 4 pills so I'm gonna go pee and refill my water bottle. The next stretch is next to the ocean. Too pretty not to walk.

1:26 pm

Pit 4. 2.8 miles? Felt like a butt load more. Still, my best walk so far. Most of it with ocean views and cool salty breezes. Also lots of random cheerers including a boy I think was supposed to be raking and not so much clapping.

Pit 4 is Broadway themed and they're playing "Tonight" from West Side Story. Awesome. My feet are [expletive deleted] killing me. ...

I think I'm gonna chill here for a while. I'll check out the food tent, do some peeing, stretch and relaz. There's 4.2 miles to the Holding Area and I have a feeling they're going to hurt.

Day 2 in Pictures--Part 2

As you may have surmised (or already read) I spent quite a bit of time in camp on Saturday. Plenty of time to really look around, check out what was on offer, get a free foot massage and take a stroll through the tent village to see how people decorated. There were a lot of very clever decorations so I... took a picture of none of them. Instead, I took a picture of how far away the food tent was from the Wendy tent. See that orange thing in the corner? That's my towel. That's how *I* chose to... er... "decorate" my tent. And... dry my towel. Which was also... very convenient.

This pic is post-Mortrin stretch and if I hadn't been concentrating so hard on... sexy Troy the stretch guy (and giggling at the old ladies yelling "TAKE YOUR SHIRT OFF!" to a poor embarassed sexy Troy) then maybe I would have taken a picture.

But... instead, here's a picture from the yoga mat stretch area of the 3DAY flag being raised by the last returning walker. For just a second, *I* wanted to be the last returning walker. Then I thought about it... and decided I preferred the air conditioned bus showing me moving pictures of Liam Neeson and Hugh Grant.
A little later in the evening, I joined the line outside the Remembrance Tent with no idea of what I'd see inside except maybe the opposite side of lots of tears.




And I was not wrong. In the middle was this tent--just like ours only all white and covered in blessings and stories. The first one I read sent me into fits of wild blubbering. And I was extremely not alone in that feeling.


So I signed it as well (see below for what I wrote because if I rewrite it now, there'll be crying and I'll never get this post finished) and put my mark on it and felt very much a part of the event from that point onward. There were also (as previously mentioned) communal journals to share your story or read another as well as pictures hung of people who had partcipated in previous events before succumbing to their illnesses.

Outside the Remembrance Tent (and unfortunately, none of those pictures came out) were a bunch of other white tents, each one tagged with the name of a city the 3DAY would have an event in this year. The others were blank, for now at least, because the other cities' events haven't happened yet. But I imagine the Boston tent set up outside the Remembrance Tent in another city and my little goddess symbol--that tiny piece of me--being seen by the next batch of brave fools on their way to the end of their own 60 mile journey and it reminds me of what I've done and where I've been and how many people I bonded with during those 3 days.

It's a remarkable thing to be a part of something so much bigger than yourself. I highly recommend it.

Day 2 Journal--Part 2

8/5/06

5:13pm

Showers are a candy-coated dreamland even if you only get a couple minutes and the bottom of the stall is about the height of your butt cheeks. People seem to be much too tired to be self-conscious anymore, judging by the number of neked ladies I've witnessed today. I'm wearing shorts in broad daylight--fiery, scorching daylight, no less--and I can't count the number of times I've hiked these bitches up to have a scratch at my upper thigh. Don't care. Hurt too much.

I am starting to feel better, though. I'm sitting at a table in the dining/entertainment tent because it's the only cool place. Twice now the entire place has burst into applause as the Youth Corps passed and I think it's helping to bring me back to the spirit of the event.

I've had a shitty day. I was hurt. I walked less than a quarter of the route. My rescue and medical aid were less than efficient and the [expletive deleted] cheerleaders at Pit 1 needed a serious ass-kicking. When I came back from dinner--salad, chicken marsala, rice, brocolli and an oreo cheesecake--I found my tent half-empty. Diane's stuff was still there when I got off the bus and when I came back from the showers. Wtf? She left a bottle of water and an unopened can of Diet Coke. Oh and she left all the flaps open. Nice. Maybe she found someone else to stay with. Maybe she got hurt and left. Maybe she's a snoring bitch; I don't know.

It just sucks that I was sitting here eating dinner thinking about how disconnected I was feeling. I lost track of everyone I'd walked with, I didn't walk much myself, I'm here alone, I'm not feeling particularly friendly and I'm really tired of feeling like a [expletive deleted] schmuck for telling people that I'm doing the 3DAY for me. Oh? Your mom died of breast cancer? Yesterday? Well... [expletive deleted] me. I needed a challenge to test my limits. Selfish? Absolutely. I suck.

Being a good person is hard. No matter what you do, someone's always going to let you know that it's not enough.

Anyhoo, so I'm feeling crappy and then my tentmate disappears. Awesome.

So I'm here, participating, listening to a Youth Corps monkey trying to play a song but then stopping (twice) to tune the guitar. ... A bit more of this good cheer crap and I might actually have the strength to finish tomorrow. Here's hoping.

7:07pm

Already feeling better. Did the Mortrin Stretch at 6:30 with sexy Troy, took a nap sitting up at a table and found the yoga mat stretch area where--coincidentally--I hooked back up with Lorraine and Cassie. I feel better knowing I'm not the only one disappointed by some of the disorganized bullshit. Now we're waiting for the show to start (7 minutes ago) and taking turns running to the blue boxes and getting warmer clothes.

9:06pm

Here I am alone in my tent under a mountain, surrounded by people who care. I should have visited the Remembrance Tent hours ago. Oh I cried. I signed the white tent with a goddess symbol and I wrote my cyst story--badly--in the communal journal. And--it's not profound but it makes me feel connected--I wrote "We are all cells in the body of the goddess. We come together to function as one." and I dedicated my walk to Anne from PP, Sandy, Irene, Mom, the Grandmas, the cousins and everyone who's helped me.

I've been telling people I'm here for shugyo--and that's not untrue. But it's not the whole truth. I'm here because of what happened to me and because it shouldn't have and maybe I can help prevent that. It turns out that the walking isn't nearly as important as being here ... which is what the bus angel said. Always listen to bus angels because they clearly know what they're talking about.

...

I want to walk tomorrow. I want to do well. And I want to continue to avoid the blisters because that, in itself, is impressive.

Slacktastic

I'm sorry. I was busy. I didn't finish scanning those pictures. Oh but I will, and there are more journal entries and some of them might make Erin cry so... there's something to look forward to.

:P

Day Two in Pictures--Part 1

Day two's route began a little something like this... Oooh, pretty, right? NO! Full of bugs and lacking in safety patrols. I was not friends with Day two.





For one sweet moment before we entered the Blue Hills Reservation, we saw all the sweep vans lined up. Oh man, I missed them on the trail.


So much so that I took two pictures:

Here's the beginning of the trail, and my tentmate (in the sassy hat) who didn't quite understand my "I'm taking my sweet time today so I don't hurt myself" approach. Why she didn't just go find her friends and leave me alone, I'll never understand.

Because she did get frustrated with me, oh yes, especially as the trail turned to rocky hills and my feet turned to jelly.

And this is what I spent the rest of the morning looking at:



So I stopped at Pit 1 and took a very long break.



Which was sort of necessary considering the potty line:

And what do Wendys do when they're bored and have a camera?

There they are, Divide and Conquer. Don't be fooled by the appearance of feet inside those sneaks, however. I assure you they are filled with the smelly oozing goo that my feet became once the bones mutinied and took off for the nearest margarita bar. I'm guessing that's why my feet still hurt. They're boneless. Gotta find that margarita bar and coax them out of their drunken stupor so I can actually catch my train on time.

Day 2 Journal--Part 1

8/5/06
12:34pm

Not my best day. Woke up aching all over, limped to the loo on a hurty knee. My tentmate (Diane?) invited me to breakfast--scrambled eggs, bacon, hash browns and fruit--and after too quick a stretch we started walking. I was stiff at first but walked right through it. At a hill in the woods, I lost Diane and walked a ways with Sarah who explained the wonder of the sweep buses. I thought about stopping at the med tent at the first Pit (2.4 miles) but stretched and peed instead, thinking I'd go another 2 mi and then get the knee looked at. Of course, the next stop was a very cramped Grab & Go and not only were there no med tents but there were no sweeps either. In fact, once we got into the Blue Hills Reservation, there were no sweeps at all.

And I... needed to be swept.

For a long time, I just thumbs upped [originally said "thumbed up" but I thought that sounded wrong and dirty] anyone who asked me how I was. But then the pain in my knee was too much to bear and I was starting to get scared and angry and weepy about the utter lack of sweeping.
Finally, some nice people helped me flag fown Wally the safety biker who called in a ranger to pick me up. I waited 15-20 minutes. Ranger Lady gave me a cool pack and a ride back to that Grab & Go. That was embarassing--everyone we passed looked at me with either pity or contempt and I didn't appreciate either. Catching a ride seems like failure to begin with.
Ranger Lady handed me over to Ranger Tom who took me in his Ranger Truck on a 10 minute ride around the outside of the park and to the second Pit where I waited 15 minutes for Med attention--which turned out to be... ice. Then me and another knee injury waited 25 minutes for a sweep to lunch.

When I got here, I went to the Med tent, waited 10 minutes in line and then just gave up and had a pee. After lunch--chicken fajitas, fruit cup, BBQ chips and a giant cookie--I re-lubed my feet and since then I've been trying to decide what to do next. My knee still hurts and now the tummy is overfull and hurting. The next Pit is 3.5 miles. Then another 3.1 to Pit 4 and 1.something to camp. Maybe I'll bus to Pit 3 or 4 and walk into camp? 4 miles doesn't seem like enough, hurt or not.

1:05pm

...

I asked a crew member in a grass skirt if there was transport to the next pit and she said no but managed to talk me into taking the coach back to camp. "Listen to your body," she said. "It's not about the miles; it's about being here," she said. "Save it for tomorrow," she said. So I got on the bus, I wrapped my knee, and if the bus driver doesn't hit "play" soon on the DVD, then I'm taking a nap. My stomache's a wreck. Not good. Had I started walking, I may have passed out soon after. I'm sunburnt, I'm mosquito-bitten and I guarantee I wouldn't be getting up tomorrow morn if I had kept walking.

Or am I making excuses? Hard to say. Apparently, I'm not invincible. Despite the feel-good propaganda, I'm still feeling like an ass for quitting.

3:10pm

The sun is a (expletive deleted) (expletive deleted) and I can only imagine the sizzling, bubbling pile of goo I would have been if I hadn't been sitting on a bus for the past 2 hours. I napped, I watched some Love, Actually, I spent some time feeling like a lonely pathetic--WEAK--[loser] and then I enjoyed the cushioned seats and AC.

Day 1 Journal

8/4/06

2:36pm

Luch stop closes soon--have to be quick. Brain's been fuzzy since I started walking. Much happened but not much registering. Feeling like walking death and tummy not happy. Gonna put shoes back on, visit a blue box and head back out. Done 13ish miles already. 'Bout 8 left till camp. Gonna try not to bus.


9:15pm

When I think of all the ways other people have engaged in shugyo--what with the fasting and branding and violence done to their bodies in the name of spiritual enlightenment--I'm pretty sure I got the best deal.

Not to say that 21 miles isn't difficult. Oh I'm in pain. My feet, my shoulders, my hips and its entirely possible I sprained my knee. I've already ODed on painkillers several times over and I have every intention of doing it again tomorrow. There were a couple times I thought about taking a sweep van but I stayed strong. I sang to myself. I repeated the mantra "shugyo" and a quote from Fall Out Boy, "I know this hurts; it was meant to," and occasionally thought of those other karatekas with the fire and the torture and I kept going. All 21 miles. I met my goal for the first day!

I also met some cool people along the way. Las Vegas gal who walked a good 3 miles with me. We bonded over the lack of customer service on the commuter rail. Defunct team lady who walked about 5 miles with me. And, of course, Lorraine and Cassie from Maine--who not only walked and sang with me (and Lorraine told jokes) but waited at a rest stop for me when I fell behind. We stopped at a Dunkies just outside camp, ate our pasta and bean together and I had just lost them on the way to the showers.

Speaking of which, I can't remember ever being so lacking in self-consciousness. I didn't so much walk around naked but I did hang out in my drawers in the shower room, poo in a blue box and walk around in short shorts ...

There's no amount of gratefullness I could express towards the people who cheer us on. From the crew and safety patrol to the local cops to the Youth Corp with their songs and cheers to the families of other walkers at the cheering stations, the sweep cans and especially the people who wave from their yards and turn on their sprinklers. More times than I can count, they're what made me keep going. Especially the man who called us heroes and my special guest, Kare Kelly, who pulled over and gave me a hug and told me she was proud of me.

I'm proud of me.

I walked 21 miles today.

And I'm gonna do it again tomorrow.