Strawberry Sneezes & Skeleton Scoots

NaPlWriMo: International Playwriting Month!

2010-11-03T01:29:00.000-07:00

Instead of blogging how about writing a full length play? I try every November. It usually takes me longer than a month, but I take a run at it anyway like an old rhino. Go see the web site and sign up if the spirit moves you. It is only November 3rd. If you wrote 10 pages a day for 10 days and then did some re-writes, in theory, you'd be done!
What am I doing? Ummmm...got to log off to get writing!
To see the NaPlWriMo web site: http://www.naplwrimo.org

The Big Walk DAY 3

2010-10-22T02:01:00.001-07:00

Me at Greenlake in the rain.
Downtown Seattle isn’t easy to walk in even when not going too far. It is all up and down. We met at camp in Everett, got scanned in after waiting 20 minutes in pouring rain to get onto busses, and then were dropped off at Northgate at the hospital there. Still a little confusion on finding all our team together, but we finally did find each other and began walking in the downpour. It rained hard for fifteen minutes or so and then slowed to that soft misty familiar Seattle rain for most of the morning.

It was hard to talk because rain hood muffle sound. Also, when in pain, I get quiet or chatty. I spent the first half of the day trying to mask what I was really feeling by being stupid chatty about nothing really. I was just trying to stay positive for something I felt pretty negative about. Not the cause, but the idea of walking all those miles---I just wanted to quit and go home and forget all this non-sense. I really was hating it.

I kept telling Kelly and Heather to enjoy it, because I wasn’t ever doing this again. I really don’t feel the need to or want to. I know to some people that sounds awful, but I don’t think you have to go to that extreme to make a point or get healthy. I now know I can walk 5 or 10 miles and feel good. I don’t need to walk 20 three days in a row. I can give money to breast cancer or cancer research without walking. I think there are many reasons people do this walk and for some it is their life and that’s fine, I have too many other things that are also important in my life and causes without training for something like this over and over.

I know many of you are reading this to know what it is like. People ask me questions like “Did you have fun?” That is a hard question to answer. I find it interesting and some people and moments “fun” and the feeling of accomplishment is wonderful. So in that I am proud of what I did, but…

We went from Northgate down to Greenlake to the Wallingford steps. We ran into the Oktoberfest 5K run and had to wait a while. We eventually hit Gas Works Park as one of the pit stops, but we were having to make up time so I didn’t get a picture of that foggy morning. It was really beautiful as the rain had just cleared and the fog was starting to clear, but the light was gorgeous!
Picture of us crossing Mountlake Bridge.
After Gasworks we headed towards that big Greek Orthodox Church and up Capitol Hill up 10th that winds up to Volunteer Park. Now, at this point we had the choice of riding a van or walking it. They were shuttling people up in vans to lunch that didn’t want to walk the mile and a half climb straight up, but this was my last day and I was determined to walk the entire thing. See? This is the mentality everyone gets in and how injuries happen. Your pride gets the better of you. But I am proud to say I made it all the way up! Picture of me hugging one of our joy filled 3 Day Stalkers. I was so happy to see a happy face at the entrance to Volunteer Park. When we got to lunch we only had 10 minutes to spare though to make it back on the trail in order to walk the planned route to the Seattle Center that day.

From there we headed down to Pike Place Market and the waterfront.
My knees really were screaming at this part. Picture of Heather with Hammering Man by the SAM. She kept me going at this point as my knees were screaming loudly. You were pulled along by gravity mostly. After a pit stop at the waterfront the course turned back up a steady climb up to the Seattle Center through the new Sculpture Park. Picture of Kelly at the waterfront pit stop at this point she was ready for it to be over too. Me at sculpture park saying to myself only a mile and a half to go!

I do like the last day as I don’t get to see Seattle by foot much and you do see a lot more. The weather held and we got to walk the last bit in the dry. I walked or hobbled the last couple of miles with a gal in a walking boot (cast). She had a stress fracture she got on the first day and had insisted she wanted to walk the majority of this day. I shudder to think how she felt after it was all over. I had met another gal on crutches who sustained an injury on the second day as a lady behind her grabbed her backpack on the way down a hill as she fell. The grabber was fine as her fall was broken by the grabbee. The grabbee unfortunately had torn ligaments and muscle because of it, but she decided to crutch the last mile or so. Ouch! Our lovely drum lady that stalked us all 3 days. She kept me going with her infectious smile and energy!

When we all walked in and down the stairs into holding, that is when I broke down. I sobbed because we were done and the pain was overwhelming. I sobbed out of exhaustion. I sobbed because we made it. I sobbed because it is emotional with a huge crowd of people cheering you on and deep down you feel like “what have I done to deserve this praise?”

When we got into closing ceremonies after they gave us our t-shirts and roses. It is always overwhelming the sheer numbers of people and how loud everything is. We stand there waiting to finish. Stand and stand and stand. Not the thing you desire to do after walking all that way. Some people are energized by the emotion of it all. I wasn’t this time. Me at the closing ceremony.

I was moved by seeing all the pink shirts of how many survivors walked. I am grateful they are here and can participate and that is moving to an extent. Everyone is instructed to take their shoe off and hold it up to the survivors and kneel. I felt bad, but I didn’t do this out of sheer practicality. I didn’t think I would be able to get my swollen foot back in a shoe or get down and up from the ground. I held up my roses instead and still felt very grateful that they were there. The survivors that walked at closing ceremony.

I am grateful to this organization that they raise so much money for the cause. They said a little over 6 million dollars was raised by Seattle walker this year alone. There are something like 25 cities this walk takes place in and San Diego is the largest with twice the walkers we have here. This all came from a promise a sister gave another sister. Now men, women, and I saw a few teens walk in these every year honoring those that didn’t make it through this disease it is a way to work out grief. Honoring those that did make it and those still walking through it. It is a walk to remind all us women to get healthier habits, get checked regularly, and to lift up those along the way no matter where they are on this road.

I decided I will do this walk again if I need it or someone close to me needs it as the symbol that it is to empower you to walk on in this fight. It has a power to it. But, until then I’ll gladly cheer those on that need to walk and walk and walk.

Walking the BIG Walk DAY 1

2010-10-06T00:21:00.001-07:00

It has been a little over a week since I walked in the Susan G. Korman 3 Day Breast Cancer Walk in Seattle. September 24-26, 2,300 people including myself walked a lot of miles.

I trained better this time for this walk then I did 2 years ago when I walked (see 2008 blog post). Mainly due to this time Kelly, my teammate, trained with me and was dedicated to seeing us succeed. I was walking the last 2 months on average 30 miles or more a week. Still it is a huge commitment to train for this as I still didn't hit the goal that the 3 Day coaches set for you.

An average week the 3 day coaches ask you to: Mon. rest, Tues. walk 5-7 miles, Wed. cross train for 2 hours, Thurs. walk an easy 10-12 miles, Fri. walk 8 miles hills, Sat. walk 15 miles, Sun. walk 18-20 miles and then do it all over again the next week. You build up to this of course, walking 2 miles several times a week, then 5 and so on. But the last couple of months that is a typical schedule they want you to hit because you are walking 3 marathons three days in a row is what you are training to do.

The thing is the time commitment along with the constant soar feet and blisters that gets to me. Someone asked me how long it takes to walk 20 miles in a day. Even at a brisk pace it is at least 6 hours and if you are a slow walker like me (my pace never got much faster) it is 2.5 miles an hour on average, so it takes me about 8 hours with very short breaks to get it all in. So, once you walk, that is your day and I couldn't sacrifice every weekend to this.

Life gets in the way and I don't know one person that can actually do this schedule except "the lifers" as I call them. Those are the people that sacrifice everything and this is their purpose, they do this walk every year no matter what. They must train on the schedule or have great genetics or both. Yeah for them! Go lifers go! Raise that money! Walk those miles! Hopefully, some day, because of their diligence a cure for cancer will be found.

Don't get me wrong, I did my part too. And I didn't completely fail in the walking either. I am proud to say my cardio and lungs are much better then they were when I began this process and I hope to keep it up and not fall completely back to my couch potato ways.

The first day we began in Redmond at 60 Acres Park walked through Woodinville/Bothell and walked up to South Everett. The goal was 22.5 miles and I walked a solid 19 of it and took the van from there to camp as my feet and knees had given up. It is hard for me to sleep before something like this and I was running on little sleep too. We had to be at Opening Ceremonies to check-in between 5:30-6 a.m. which means we all had to be up and out of the house by 5 a.m. at the latest. When you wake up nearly every hour it doesn't make good sleep even if you went to bed early (11 pm). I didn't feel rested.

I think Opening and Closing Ceremonies are some of the best part of this walk where you really can feel the energy and numbers of solidarity. It is a good time to be standing side by side with people who care about getting rid of cancer. It isn't about the miles or the walk really at that point, but the cause. It is a good cause.

I arrived to Opening Ceremonies and found one of my teammates, Kelly, whom I had mostly trained with for this walk. She is the reason I'd gotten involved both times I did this walk as I'd seen the ads for it and been interested, but Kelly once she sets a goal wants to be a woman of action. I can say she is just that.

They did the very moving survivors, circle on the platform with the flags proclaiming all the types of people this cancer effects: Mothers, Fathers, Children, Aunts, Sisters, and Brothers. It was good to reminded that men do get this cancer in a small percentage, but they do. I met one in grad school; he was only 22 and was pronounced with stage 3 breast cancer. That was the first time I'd heard of a man suffering with it. He was devastated and quite shocked. I'd just cast him in a show I'd written and he had to pull out to have surgery. I wonder where he is today? Anyway, the survivors stood before us and many of us bawled like babies looking at these strong women about to embark on this walk.

The Opening was shorter then I remember last time, but it was easier getting started as we were basically on a soccer field. We were routed through one gate so that everyone's tags could be "scanned in" and we began to walk. Kelly was really keyed up and wanted to go really fast. I was surprised considering we'd trained together and I wasn't particularly fast paced ever. She kept getting ahead of me until eventually within the first mile and a half she took off and never turned back. I didn't think this said a whole lot for team work, but there wasn't anything I could do about it, but look more diligently for our other teammate Heather.

You have to understand we did have our phones with us, but you aren't allowed to use them while walking for safety's sake. You can pull over to the side and stand and call someone, but time is of the essence. We'd called Heather, but the Opening Ceremonies is so loud (music) that it is difficult to hear or find people. Staying together is a challenge. Walking on the path isn't so quiet either with traffic noise and that many people's voices. I never heard my phone ring once.

The first year I did the walk I wondered why all the crazy outfits, especially the teams, but I soon understood. Unless you were wearing something that stood out in the sea of pink, you'd never find your teammates if separated in 2300 walkers. Plus all the volunteers in crazy outfits makes you smile and laugh along the way. I really got a kick out of some of them. In the picture is a safety crossing gaurd that got more and more ridiculous each day. Here is on the last day. I had brought fairy wings and star wands for us as a team. It's the only thing I had that was pink. Also, I put pink roses in my hair in order to feel somewhat pretty as I feel gross being all sweaty the entire weekend. Kelly and I soon learned the wings straps were too tight and so she wound hers into her ponytail and I taped mine to my pack. I had three wands and we all put those in our hair pointing straight up in the air so we could find one another. I'm a bit rebellious too in that I hate pink, so I don't wear pink so I'm a little easier to find.

So as Kelly's wings were getting further and further in the distance ahead until I couldn't see them anymore, I began to search harder for Heather, hoping to give her the wand I'd brought. Miracously, I found her at the first pit stop.

Pit stops are places with port-a-potties, food, water, and gater-aid. You are supposed to stop, replenish, relieve yourself, rest, and stretch for on average 10 minutes and then get walking again. From that pit stop Heather and I walked together the first day. She knew I'd be slower and yet she stuck with me as we'd met and walked together as solo walkers the last time. She even offered from the beginning if I need to take a van, it is something she wanted to experience at least once this time as she walked all 60 miles last time.

It rained pretty steady for an hour or so of the walk this first day. I was surprised so many people were unprepared not even having any cheap rain ponchos with them. At the pit stop we were at when it began to rain hard they did have one small box of cheap ponchos they gave out until they were all gone. I kept thinking, people it's Seattle---expect rain.

Many people on the walk are local, but a lot come from all over the US to walk in another city as this organization walks in 15 cities around the country. Many walkers are repeat teams and choose to walk in other cities. Sightseeing with a cause or "vacation" as one mother of 7 put it to me. She said this is her only vacation. I commend her, but I would want a different vacation without all the pain involved.

Speaking of pain, I thought I'd make the first day, but fatigue and past injuries kept talking to me after about 10 miles. I struggled to make the next 9, but put up a good fight. I thought if I took the bus into camp today I'd make the rest of the walk. I only took one picture that first day as I was concentrating on standing upright putting one foot in front of the other. The last straw being I forgot my knee brace so onto the bus we went and rode the last 3.5 miles back to camp.

At camp we reunited with Kelly, who'd been there for hours. She was in the top 200 people into camp. Which was an accomplishment that she wanted to do, but it isn’t a race, but some people take it as such? It seemed to make her feel great, but I wasn't happy at not seeing her all day as I'd embarked on this journey again because she wanted a teammate who would walk with her. Heather got her tent as she'd elected to stay in camp and get a tent to herself. We made sure she was all set and then headed out for the night.

Kelly's very supportive husband Armin came and picked her and me up and we went home for the evening. I say supportive as he showed up at nearly every cheering station with their 2 year old son cheering us all on. He waited even when Kelly blew past for Heather and me to show up an hour or so behind just to say "Go Hey Sole Sisters!" I found that very sweet and endearing plus he ferried Kelly and I to and from camp every day. He was an important part of out team. Thanks Armin!

I had stayed in camp last time and I'm glad I did it once. Being in camp you feel more a part of this huge thing and part of the community. You meet a lot of great people, hear some good information that you don't out on the trail, like how many people are participating, who are the top fundraisers, and you hear people's stories of how this cancer has touched them or their families. Many heroic and inspiring souls. It helps you to focus on the task at hand to be away from home and in this constructed community for a couple of days. It feels like you've been away for a long time by the end.

You also get fed and pampered a little, but you do have to sleep on the ground and can't bring a lot of stuff with you. You are only allowed 35 lbs. tops in your suitcase and all your camping stuff, sleeping bag included, has to be in your suitcase. When I camped before I was in pretty rough shape because of the cold damp and sleeping on the ground after walking a lot of miles. It didn't help me accomplish the task. So, this time I went home nightly and took an Epson salt bath, ate my own food, hugged my son and hubby, and slept in my own bed. That helped me a lot. First night I fell asleep at barely 8:30 pm from exhaustion.

Walking the BIG Walk DAY 2

2010-10-06T00:21:00.000-07:00

Me & Kelly at the overlook the bay in Everett.

The next morning came early as we had to be there by 7 pm at the latest. Armin came to pick me up at 6:15 am. Kelly was in a world of hurt from pushing herself the day before and she said she didn't think she could do a whole lot today. I thought she was joking or would work out the soreness after we got going, but she was really hurting. Kelly and I somewhere by a pretty fountain up a bill hill in Everett silly stupid with pain.

We began at camp. Armin waved us on and we scanned in to start the next day. We walked up the long road to camp to scan in along with all the others that either stayed in hotels or at home. It's ironic that you can't be dropped right at camp, but they make you walk-in. The sacrifice we made for our luxury, I suppose.

We found Heather and we all three began this day together, which was an improvement over the day before. Kelly has lower back issues stemming from the birth of her child and was really not enjoying the walk. Heather has hip issues and was struggling and trying to walk it out. I have multiple issues that I call “a girdle of pain” plus knee, back, and neck issues, so any distance walking on concrete is a huge challenge. We all were beginning to struggle more. This day was all about hills in Everett. I never knew Everett was so pretty, but I’d never gone up to the park at the top of a very big hill that overlooks the bay.

Picture of our team "Hey Sole Sister" at a pit stop. L-R. Kelly, Me, Heather

There were blocks and blocks of supporters out on Sat. Some blocks even had their own cheering sections lined up. We had official cheering stops, but many blocks had party after party. Picture below of a spectacular cheering block! It was really something. It was fun to see those “3 Day stalkers” as I call them that set up their own cheering spots with a theme and just follow the walk around all weekend. A crazy way to spend your weekend, but there were times I was truly happy to see those somewhat familiar happy faces handing me a cold shot of gateraid or little smoked sausage to keep me going.

Picture of our team with the "Sole Sister" relief van.
Kelly and I road the vans and walked a lot too, but took a van to the last pit stop and walked into camp from there. So for the planned walk of 21.7 miles we walked about 16.5 or so. It is hard to calculate when you jump on and off vans, but I tried to keep track of where we did and what the mileage markers were. Kelly thought we walked more, but I’m pretty sure we didn’t. I felt a lot better this day and thought I could have walked more, but considering how I felt at the end of the next day was glad I didn’t.

By the end of this day I had a right foot with many blisters. Especially my whole pinky toe and right heel were nothing but one big blister. There really wasn’t much to be done for them but drain and let them air out. This is another reason we hopped vans as the blisters make it hard to walk. I went to medical and they put second skin on the blisters to help them. I certainly saw people’s feet there that were much worse than mine. One lady, who regularly walks 10 miles a day she said, nearly her whole pad of the foot was nothing but a blister.

20 miles back to back is brutal on everyone. Kelly had no blisters, but other things bothered her. Heather was with me in the blister department, but she had taken off out front and we hadn’t seen her since lunch. She was headed out of lunch and we were headed in. It’s like they’d had some silent agreement to trade places from the day before.

Picture taken part way up that last hill into camp. Very muddy!

The last hill into camp was cruel and unusual punishment. We took the van to the last pit stop, but elected to walk the 3.5 or so miles into camp. It was a hill. A muddy path really straight up into the back side of camp. Mickey and Minnie Mouse were waiting for us to take pictures with us at the end. I guess that was the prize for making it up that hill?

When I got home, my husband had heroically spent the day entertaining our 5 year old and had purposely not been there when I got home so I could do whatever I needed to do. Our little boy didn’t understand what I was doing and it was best he was out having a good time with Papa. I did get a 10 minute massage in camp and was very grateful for that, but enjoyed the space to do what I needed to rest. I was in a world of hurt and needed to try to gear up for the next day. I was in bed by 9 pm after I said hello to my family and heard about their day as I knew the next day would be the hardest of all.

Autism Awareness Month Almost Over

2010-04-29T00:45:00.000-07:00

As a friend of mine who also has an autistic child says,"It is always Autism Awareness Month at our house!" I think I didn't blog last year because we just received the official diagnosis for our son that he had Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD). We really didn't know what that was but have since been caught up to speed over the last year.
My son, a delightful 4 and a half year old now, began ABA therapy (Applied Behavior Analysis) from home last April just in time to "celebrate" this month. I can't say I was celebrating his difference from all his peers, but we were trying to figure out what this means for him in the long run. Truth is we hear a lot of things of what this will mean, but only time will tell. He progresses in life skills and talking every day. To those looking on the outside it is slow, but to us what a world of difference!
This time last year he couldn't: dress himself, talk in sentences, make eye contact 95% of the time, pee in a toilet, tolerate transitions, or do any sustained play with normal toys. Now, I can't say he's mastered all of this, but he can dress himself with very little assistance, he talks in some sentences and answer some questions now, eye contact has improved I'd say 50% or more of the time you can get him to look at you when speaking to him, he does pee in the toilet some of the time, he can tolerate transitions more so, and he does want to play with toys some of the time. It is a gradual journey. He is beginning to notice people more also and peers which is amazing to watch. Oh, he still treats people a lot of the time like objects, but he has moments the fog clears and he wants to play with others. I love that!
We have a lot of hope for our little guy engaging further and further with this world. I think I will always celebrate or mark this month for autism as it has certainly made it's mark on us.

Walking 60 Miles Seattle Style for Breast Cancer

2008-12-01T10:22:00.000-08:00

I'm finally going to write about my incredible experience this past fall (2008) walking for Susan Gorman's 60 Mile walk for Breast Cancer. Yes, 20 miles a day. I didn't make it the 60 miles and that was disappointing, but that also I learned wasn't the point.

It was a crazy venture started as a notion around the new year. I wanted to do something different this year that would get me moving as I have a hard time committing to exercise. Also, I wanted to do something about this thing called cancer that seems to surround my friends, touched my family, and is a devastating disease in our society today. Kelly had some of the same thoughts and called me for a meeting to join this walk. She signed up that night as the team leader of "our team". I couldn't make the meeting, but said to her I would train with her and see how it went.

My husband and I were hoping to get pregnant this year and so I thought walking wasn't an option, but I wanted to get walking and knew if someone else were walking that I would too. She and I began walking and met a couple of times with another team member Angie, who had officially signed up for the team too.

Somewhere in February, Kelly confessed a secret. She had just found out she was pregnant and due a couple of weeks before the Seattle walk. It would be a first baby for her and her hubby. At first she thought no problem, we'll just walk in another city like Phoenix, which many teams do go to other cities to walk. She had checked to see if they would let her walk the next year and they said no. She had already raised $800 of her $2200 obligation and was determined to go on. I said to her that I didn't think she would want to walk right after having the baby, but she was determined.

The next month I found out I was pregnant and I was so glad I hadn't signed up officially. I told Kelly and she seemed happy for us, but sad I wouldn't be walking with her. Angie began to suffer some health issues and we didn't see her for a while. I tried to recruit others for our team, but no one could walk this year. Kelly and I got up to around 10 miles early on and often did 5 when we got together to walk, but around April/May we were both feeling pretty lousy.

I miscarried in May and I retreated to myself for a little while not walking or talking or doing much of anything, but threw myself into the Christmas script I was to start writing to try to distract my sadness. I was happy for Kelly, but it was hard walking with a now visibly pregnant woman as this had been my third miscarriage in a row.

Kelly, had a rather hard injury from all she had been doing. Somewhere in May/June the ligament strain was too much and she had to stop the long walks. She finally admitted she wouldn't be able to walk anytime in the fall if she was to keep this baby now. This was hard for her as she is a very driven and committed person. She felt like she was being a wuss. I told her that was silly and promised to be her, raise the rest of the money, and walk in September in Seattle as planned. She was very happy I was going to take her spot. We got it officially changed over in late June and away we went.

The next two months were crazy doing training walks with my friends. A big thank you to Erica who did many of those walks with me and my husband Martin and son Sebastian for going on many of the others. They would at least start with me or go around Greenlake with me the first time. I really appreciated that support. I was fully writing this Christmas script and arranging actors to do a first reading in August and all my other time was pretty much spent fundraising and walking.

The support started rolling in and I was so humbled by the generosity of those who knew me well, but many who didn't know me well giving so generously! It kept me putting one foot in front of the other. Angie, fell to a really bad case of Merca and she was now out of being able to be recovered by September 12, which was the big first day of the walk. I had a reading of my Christmas script and went camping to Ashland, OR over the Labor Day weekend. I was so focused on auditions for my show that came the next week and then I realized it would be time to walk. Before I knew it, it was the night before the walk.

I couldn't sleep. I was team less, but well supported. I was $95 short of the money goal, but they would let me walk as I committed to paying it if it didn't come in. I thought to myself I could just not pay and not walk, but then I thought about all of my supporters I'd disappoint and Kelly who was counting on me.

Grumbling and somewhat dreading it, I got up at 4 a.m. even though my head had just hit the pillow a couple of hours before to get up and go to Bellevue, WA at the community college which was our starting point. I thought to myself how hard this was going to be as the furthest I'd walked in one day so far had only been about 13 miles. I knew how difficult that had been and I'd only done it a couple of times before this. The most I'd consistently done was 10 miles. It takes a lot of time to train for this and I knew I had not been disciplined enough that I'd be in for a rough time.

When I got to BCC I was stunned. There was a sea of thousands of people and the traffic jam was pretty bad. It took a couple of hours past what they had predicted as the 6 a.m. start time because there was so many people. You'd think it was a theatre convention with all the crazy costumes and hats people were wearing. I looked really normal compared to these extremely pink bunches of people before me.

Even though it was a crazy party atmosphere, I found myself tearing up and feeling very emotional seeing all these people at this one event. Later on the walk I found out there were about 12,000 people walking plus a couple of thousand volunteers. There was a lot of enthusiasm and triumph just getting started. Survivors were honored and what we were about to embark upon was talked about as a journey to honor those that couldn't be there or had survived and their spirits were walking with us. I cried a lot that first day. I think washing away years of pent up frustration that I hadn't done anything but watch many friends and my mother suffer with breast cancer. I also thought a lot about my brother that suffered with cancer and a sister that had cancer but survived and how hard it all is and why hasn't there been a cure?

We began to walk. I was silent at first, just watching everyone and listening to everyone talk. The support people in costumes were cheering us on. The cows in their cow car and costumes here were my favorites. They circled the group walking at regular intervals and played music, danced with us, and made sure everyone was safe. I was really impressed how they always made sure everyone was taken care of. The crazy costumes made us smile despite sore backs, feet, and the hot weather. All the volunteers that support the walk are amazing!

The first day I made it 14 miles before collapsing of dehydration. I was hauled into the medical tent back at camp-not fun. I wasn't as bad as some that were sent to the hospital, but I didn't realize even as much as I was drinking and eating along the way it is so easy to get dehydrated on a hot day. They had us eat, rest, and drink water and Gatorade nearly every stop and there are a lot of pit stops. The other danger is that you can eat too much and not drink enough. They want you to keep your calories up and it is hard to resist food being shoved at you every chance by the pit stops and people cheering you on the way. It is so kind that people are wanting to cheer you on by giving you something, but after two days of people handing you candy along the way, it isn't beneficial. I just took it and tried to give it away to someone else that I saw who seemed to need it as all the sweets were making me ill. I preferred the applause to the candy!

I met incredible people with amazing stories. A lady that 28 days before the walk had a mastectomy, but did the entire walk every step. A man that fund raises 365 days a year as he does all the breast cancer 3 day walks in every city. He makes his fund raising goal for all of them too. He's retired and passionate about finding a cure. I wanted to ask him if it was because someone he loved died of it, but I think that was the reason he didn't talk about. There were teams of people that gathered because they had one survivor organizing the team and they were friends and family gathered around them for support. There were teams of people grieving the loss of a friend or loved one and they walked for them. There were people who just saw the incredible need to be a part of being a part of the cure. There were women who were pregnant walking from a few weeks to I walked into closing ceremony with a lady 8 months pregnant and her husband walking beside her. There were fit people and people who hadn't trained much at all, but all were passionate about the cause dreaming of a new day where there isn't any cancer.

So I walked and grieved for my losses. I walked and was so happy to be alive. I walked and listened a lot to those that needed to speak and tell their story. I walked and talked some too more than I thought I would. I met a wonderful lady named Heather, who also was a lone walker. She has a huge heart and hope for the end of breast cancer. She so loved the walk that she is on the medical crew this coming year and we hope to walk together again in 2010.
Getting into camp even though they brought me in the first day was wonderful. The community of people brought together in one cause was overwhelming. A memorial was set up for those that wished to remember loved ones. There was a "rock star" singing contest, bingo, a place to write letters and reflect, a store to buy t-shirts and trinkets, but during dinner the speakers that shared their journeys were inspiring to keep us all putting one foot in front of the other and prepare for the next day.

After camping all night, it was freezing in the morning and wet. My body hurt all over and I had a blister I'd missed throbbing on my big toe. It was tiny, but it hurt. It grew and grew throughout the day despite my trying to keep it taken care of. The stiffness didn't wear off until out on the trail for a couple of miles. Heather kept me encouraged and entertained. We talked about our little boys, theatre, and the SCA (her passion). By noon my left knee was so painful I didn't think I could walk another step. It would be my downfall to ever achieving 20 miles in a day, but it only got worse despite the medical team being so kind in wrapping it. Heather I sent on as she wanted to finish the day and I took the bus back again after about 14 miles. I was really discouraged limping into camp and feeling like I'd failed, but so many people said to me "thanks" and said it wasn't about how much I walked, but that I raised the funds and did come and participate and shared my life. That was very humbling and sometimes hard to swallow as I wanted to make the goal that I'd trained for, but I also realized I hadn't trained nearly as hard as it would take for me to finish every day. If I'd trained harder, I would have known about my knee and brought a brace or something, but I was a light weight and suffering for it. The training takes a lot of time and perseverance, but it pays off as I saw with others that did finish 60 miles. I sat for 2 hours cheering people into camp and waiting for Heather to finish. It was her birthday and I wanted her to know that what she was doing on her special day was special indeed. I was sad I couldn't walk with her all the way, but wanted her to know I was there in spirit too. The smile she had when she saw me at the finish line was well worth the couple of hours I spent waiting. The camp that night was beautiful with a full moon over head.
The next day was a blurr. The excitement was thick in the morning mist as we packed up our campsite and left Marymore Park and got onto buses and headed for the UW campus. It was another beautiful day and so good when we began walking. The pain in my knee began in after five miles and got so intense. I hobbled till I got to about twelve miles and then took a van to the pit stop. Feeling better after lunch I hobbled another couple of miles hoping to walk the rest of the way. If you don't make certain stops by certain times especially on the last day they pick you up on the bus and drop you a block from closing cerimonies so you can walk in. That was dissapointing in a way as a group of us really worked hard to try to make it to those stops in time even though we weren't walking without pain. It made me think about the pain of cancer and how many people walk that journey with unspeakable amounts of pain, but they keep going and hoping. My knee was so swollon at this point, even though my ego was a little bruised I was proud to be entering that stadium. Heather and I lost each other on that last day is my only regret as my knee was slowing us down and I told her to go ahead. With so many people there we never found each other again. I kept looking for her, but never saw her. She sent me a Christmas card this year and I know I'm looking forward to possibly walking in 2010.
This year the route is in my hometown of Edmonds and other places I know. I'm a little sad not to be walking in my stomping grounds, but I will go down and cheer them all on as I know what this weekend is costing them. It is a journey and commitment to pray for a cure of this dreaded thing called cancer. God hears our prayers. God sees those it touches. God is merciful and mighty to save. Someday in Heaven there will be no tears over this painful brutal thing, but until then God asks us to keep working for some relief here on earth.

New Year/New You on the horizon

2008-01-02T00:21:00.000-08:00

I always say I'm not going to fall for it, but the idea of 365 new days that are open to anything it always gets the best of me. I want to resolve to be better, do better, and make life long habits go away in an easy instant. I sit here wanting the most for little effort, but I know that more effort brings more result. So my heart sings the song tonight it does every January first of resolving to make this the year I work the most, do the most, and rejoice the most. Ah, but if you look at my last entry you will see I do this nearly every day of the year, on paper at least.

If I don't do the most, may I love the most and do better at giving of what I have to those that don't have. I think that is the best new year's resolution I can make without feeling guilty about it all. May this be a blessed year of giving and seeing what there is to give and to take less so that I may rejoice more personally and publically.

Where Have You Been All the Day?

2007-03-11T00:38:00.000-08:00

This is a song my husband sings to my little boy to get him to sleep," Where have you been all the day Henry my boy? Where have you been all the day, my pride and joy?" That's what I wonder when I see how long it has been since I've posted anything. Time zooms by and I look up to think, where does it go? Many things I think about, but few get posted.
Time and the lack of it or how fast it goes or how little my life changes the older I get seems to be a theme when I'm looking through my old journals lately. We've been moving to our first house that we just bought. This is a huge change and yet just seems like it is about time. I'm contemplating where I've been and am going as I'm turning one of those birthdays that end in "0" this year. It makes one think and think and think and think some more about what can I do differently? So, I'm vowing to myself and picking up the pieces again of what I want. Kind of like a new year's resolution daily. Here's a poem from one of those journals in 1999.

"Gut Strut"
What grows in my belly is so sweet
a complete, neat folded map
with rivers, mountains, deep valleys
Thick sap runs down my trees
a cold, clear evening breeze filled to the brim with stars
I never was competent with directions
can't tell where the sun faces
I go through my paces
wrong turn again
I ask a friend for directions
or where I might be on this map
"Don't know", they always say,
"It's way, way deep inside you
Can you find it?
I hope so, because I can't help you".
It's dark at the top of the stairs
Can you turn on a light?
It's got be here somewhere

Greece and Donkeys

2006-09-01T22:58:00.000-07:00

Two years ago, my husband and I went to Greece during the Olympics. We were brought there by a Christian promoter, who wasn’t at all what he said he was or did what he said he would. To see in detail the difficulties go to my husband’s blog http://www.mybigfatgreekvacation.blogspot.com/.

This photo was taken of us riding donkeys on the island of Hydra. Going to this island was us getting away from all that was going on in Athens. Donkeys and horses are the only transportation on Hydra. All mechanical transport isn't allowed on the island at all except the boats that pull into port. It is much quieter that way and slower. You can literally stop and smell the roses, because you are moving so slow.
Going to Athens during the Olympics was a dream come true for us, but we didn't know that it would be one of the worst travel experiences we would ever have nor one of the worst times we have had with a group of Christian artists either and then there were other people on the trip we met because of the donkeys that were amazing individuals. Let's just say the worst people we dealt with I'll call donkeys and those donkeys have actually been a blessing in some ways in the months and years since we went to Greece.
They have made both of us think about how we use our music and conduct our lives. How important it is to do what we say we are going to do and follow through. Also, it has made us realize how much isn't important in the scheme of things too. It was our small Olympic trial, but I think in a good way, as we are more cautious and really listen to know what is important in the scheme of things.
I was just thinking about those donkeys and how uncomfortable they were to ride at the time and I think about our trip and how awful it was dealing with "donkeys", but I am glad God took us there to see all the roses along the path. I truly cherish the time in Athens and I hope I remember that the next time God asks me to ride a donkey. I just hope the donkey isn't sent to get my attention by speaking.

"Book Bound"

2006-09-01T22:18:00.000-07:00

I collect experiences on my bookshelf
Dusty and forgotten or neglected
Never read, but purchased with great intention
To excel, succeed, and move beyond this moment's notice
To unstuck my slow footed-soul from its habitual quick-sand
I pick up a title that particularly taunts my sensibilities
Looking over the title page, I find the chapter I most need
Tossing aside an hour, I indulge
Plunging into advice that formulates a new plan of sincere action
I write my list, stick it to my fridge amongst a sea of witnesses,
favorite photos of far away family and friends
Tomorrow I shall write to them about the plan
that will be forgotten by week's end
When the book is misplaced or re-shelved
because the action plan is "in my way" of today's work that "has to be done"
The books look great to those visitors who don't know me
and have time to kill
Perusing my office bookshelf of yesteryear

Written by Sarah 8/26/06

Thy Kingdom Come, Thy Will Be Done...

2006-08-18T02:24:00.000-07:00

This is an essay I wrote about a charcoal drawing I did for my church during the lenton season. There were 8 pieces put up in the sanctuary during lent. I have been part of other art projects for my church and they always come at a very profound time where God speaks to me through the creation of the art, I think perhaps more than those who might see it.

Lent is a time of reflection, evaluating, and contemplating what Jesus has done for me and what I can do for him. Also, the theme “Thy Kingdom Come,” to me, is a cry of all Christians for God to have mercy on this world. It is a call “to action” in a way. In the Lord’s Prayer Jesus is asking for something better than we have in this imperfect world. I looked up the word “Lent” to see what train of thought that would bring. I was surprised at how many service-oriented words it brought me to, and at how the word mercy kept being brought forward. What mercy does God daily bring us, and how should I practice mercy in my life? What does all this mean?

When Abbie and I began talking about the Lenten project this year, she mentioned that she saw a vision of hard-hitting art pieces that made people think: about people with AIDS (not just in Africa, but all around us); about the high instance of divorce and the havoc it produces in the lives of so many families; about how Christians need to reach out with the love of Jesus to the homosexual community; about how the body of Christ needs to love all people as part of the kingdom. My thoughts turned to local landmarks—something I could use to bring home the idea that God’s kingdom, the place where we need so desperately to serve, is all around us, on earth as it is in heaven. What landmark says Seattle? The Space Needle seemed terribly cliché; Pike Place Market seemed too overdone; and the front of the Lusty Lady downtown would be too distracting in the sanctuary.

I thought about the first sermon in Dan’s series on the hands of God—about how Jesus reached out to the woman caught in adultery. I thought about portraying a modern Jesus in a biker jacket with his back to the viewer, but facing the adulterous woman. She would be like anyone we see every day on the streets of Seattle, and she would be on the ground looking up at him, about to take his hand and get up. I thought she would be outside of an easily recognizable Seattle location. At her feet would be the abandoned weapons of her accusers, and those would range from a gun to a Bible. There would be people watching from the sidelines, talking to each other, and just one other person turned toward Jesus. I was very excited about this idea, and Martin, my husband, suggested a local landmark: one of the dance-step patterns from the sidewalk along Broadway on Capitol Hill. That would convey more than just a location, and really add some punch to what I was trying to depict. We went up to Capitol Hill one night, taking black-and-white photos of street life and all the different dance patterns we could find.

I pinned all the photos on my living room wall, ready to start work. I did some sketches, but nothing was working out. It wasn’t right and I didn’t have the skill to draw what I wanted to portray. So I prayed a lot, staring at my blank piece of paper and playing music that always inspires me. I went back to square one, looking up scripture about mercy, kingdom, and hands. I searched the Internet for pictures matching those keywords. I also looked up the opposites to those themes—dark and painful images —wondering how to bridge the gap. Swords and ripping started appearing to me in forms of the cross along with the dance steps, but it still didn’t seem quite right.

During this time, I also received news that my older brother had been diagnosed with stage 4 stomach cancer. Unless God’s mercy intervenes soon, he has a limited time to live. It was if a bomb was blowing away my safe environment. As I was looking at all of this, Picasso’s Guernica kept appearing in my mind. Here is a brief history of that famous painting:

On April 27, 1937, unprecedented atrocities are perpetrated on behalf of Franco against the civilian population of a little Basque village in northern Spain. Chosen for bombing practice by Hitler's burgeoning war machine, the hamlet is pounded with high-explosive and incendiary bombs for over three hours. Townspeople are cut down as they run from the crumbling buildings. Guernica burns for three days. Sixteen hundred civilians are killed or wounded.

By May 1, news of the massacre at Guernica reaches Paris, where more than a million protesters flood the streets to voice their outrage in the largest May Day demonstration the city has ever seen. Eyewitness reports fill the front pages of Paris papers. Picasso is stunned by the stark black-and-white photographs. Appalled and enraged, Picasso rushes through the crowded streets to his studio, where he quickly sketches the first images for the mural he will call Guernica. His search for inspiration is over.

After appearing in a Paris fair, Guernica tours Europe and Northern America to raise consciousness about the threat of fascism. Speculations as to the exact meaning of the jumble of tortured images are as numerous and varied as the people who have viewed the painting. There is no doubt that Guernica challenges our notions of warfare as heroic and exposes it as a brutal act of self-destruction. But it is a hallmark of Picasso's art that any symbol can hold many, often contradictory meanings, and the precise significance of the imagery in Guernica remains ambiguous. When asked to explain his symbolism, Picasso remarked, "It isn't up to the painter to define the symbols. Otherwise it would be better if he wrote them out in so many words! The public who look at the picture must interpret the symbols as they understand them." http://www.pbs.org/treasuresoftheworld/guernica/gmain.html

With pictures of Guernica and the dance patterns of Capitol Hill now tacked to my wall, and a heart longing for God’s kingdom to come sooner than later, I began to draw. Picasso’s painting has always made me weep, and those things I chose to mimic from it make me weep today for justice and for God’s mercy to rain down. The dance of life goes on, with all kinds of atrocities happening daily. We do learn to “mambo” around some of the worst things happening. However, the hands at the top belong to Jesus, whose shed blood rips through our lives with a blinding, healing light. Eternal life sheds a different light on how we spend our lives. One day Jesus will rip down the final curtain between this life and His kingdom. God takes what seems black and white and paints it with his color. His bleeding hands, and the blood he shed for us, heal us no matter what bomb rips through our lives.

Papa Father,

We ask for your mercy to pour down on our lives. Heal us, we pray. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in Heaven.

In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Dr. Thomas Scott Walton 1957-2006

2006-07-10T22:48:00.000-07:00

I haven't written for a while, because I've been bound up in a life drama of my big brother battling for his life. He lost the battle to colon cancer June 23, 2006 but I do believe he is in Heaven now pain free. I will miss him and do miss him very much.

I'm not sure what to say about this man who had the room across the hall from me in our house growing up. He was second oldest of five and I am the youngest. He was a man that I only had begun to know now that we were grown up. He is the guy who knew how to push my buttons to tease me and loved to get me all stirred up. He was in medicine and said he didn't understand my artistic nature, yet he loved music and taught himself guitar. He had a little girl with his wife five years ago and has always urged me to have a child with my husband. He was so proud that I had a little boy last year. He worried and fussed over all his siblings and when our Mom died he took her place in a way that we all complained about, but secretly loved, because his fusses showed us how much he cared.

He was a great brother, husband, and father. I miss you Dr. Tummy Tom. Give Mom a kiss for me.

Relatives and friends are welcome to send flowers or make contributions on-line to cancer research in honor of Thomas S. Walton, M.D. to www.cancer.org/docroot/home/index.asp?promogaw or call 1-800-ACS-2345.

Life insurance?

2006-05-17T13:01:00.000-07:00

Last night our friend Tim came over who happens to be an insurance salesman. He has talked to us for years just mentioning that anytime we want life insurance to just say the word and he'll be over. We finally decided or my husband finally was worn down about the subject or perhaps because of events this year, he sees things in a diffrent light, I know I do. Youth gives you an invinicible exterior and it is hard not to think of yourself as young. But this year, has been a challenge to my youthful outlook.
I had my first child, but was in the "high risk" age range for it and was frightened about it because there were so many things that could go wrong. Then my child came and he is so beautiful, but so vunrable and we want to protect him. Then one of my sisters came down with ovarian cancer and my brother was diagnosed with stomach and colon cancer at stage 4 and he was only 48 years old when he passed away in June. Then we've had two friends loose loved ones to leukemia, a daughter age 19 and a father of 6 age 48. Another friend struggles with leukemia, disabled for 5 years now. All this adds up and begs the question of what is predictable? Is there any real life insurence?
Not really on this earth. The only life insurence we can have is assurence in God and his kingdom. Sometimes that is very comforting and at other times it is deeply disturbing.

I know not what of good or ill may be reserved for me, Of weary ways or golden days, before his face I see. But I know whom I have believed and am pursuded that he is able to keep that which I've commited unto him aganinst that day. From the old hymn "I Know Whom I Have Believed"

Profundity Takes a Vacation

2006-05-04T11:14:00.000-07:00

I often have profound thoughts when it comes to other people's blogs, sermons, or plays, but today in actually starting a blog I am stunned by the blank screen of my computer. I called this Strawberry Sneezes because that is what my 10 month old son kept doing this morning during breakfast sneezing out his strawberries as he tried to get down his yougurt.
He works so hard at everythig, because everything is so new. Things I don't even think about any more like eating becomes a serious endevor for him. Perhaps I should think more about what I eat and how questioning every bite, like a 10 month old often does, would do me a lot of good. I choose more healthy fare for him than I often do for myself.
I am concerned about his beginning of life getting off to a good start. Why don't we ever contemplate the middle of life continuing to be good as the start? That is where I am today, trying to make the middle really, really great by starting over with my ground in bad habits, stretching for my far off desires and dreams.
I am an artist, mother, wife, and friend. I can see middle-age approaching fast and wonder how I got where I am and how to go forward fantastically. This is the Skeleton Scoots part---getting my old bones to dance to a new tune. If you want to see a really accomplished blogger, go to my husband's blog spot: what-you-will.blogspot.com