Things I’ve Learned On The 3-Day, Part 3

My family and friends weren’t quite sure what to make of my initial decision to walk in the 2004 Breast Cancer 3-Day. The two primary reactions were either “Wow, that’s really something!” or “How are you going to walk that far?” As I began my training walks that first year, I would often receive a call from my mom later that afternoon. She would ask how it went. I’d say fine. Then she’d ask, “So how far did you walk today?” Without much emotion, I’d tell her – five miles or eight or ten or twelve or whatever it happened to be that day. Every time, she said, “Oh, I don’t know how you can walk that far!” At first, I’d say, “Well, you put one foot in front of the other…and keep doing that for a while…stop to pee or rest or stretch once in a while…and then you’re done.” After the sixth or seventh time, I stopped responding.

Funny thing, though – each year, as I’ve moved into the height of the training season, my mom would call me on a Saturday or Sunday afternoon, while I was relaxing after a long walk, and ask me how far I walked. And after I told her, she still exclaimed, “Oh, I don’t know how you can walk that far!” Sometimes either she or my dad (if he happened to call) would add, “Well, be careful, you don’t want to overdo it.” I guess parents never really stop being parents, do they?

Another thing I learned that first year – and have been reminded of each year – was that on a long training walk you have to drink a lot of water or Gatorade or other sports drink of choice. So every restroom facility became a welcome sight. During the Breast Cancer 3-Day, these facilities were found at pit stops in the form of what we called port-a-potties. Along the route, each pit stop was equipped with dozens of these blessings for the bladder. As a pit stop came into view, walkers all looked forward to a chance to rest, refill their water bottles, and grab a snack. But I also regularly heard more than one person call out, “Thank God we’re here – I really have to pee!” Yes, I was often one of those people.

During the 3-Day, most walkers spend two nights in camp – a makeshift city, complete with hot meals served under a huge dining tent, medical facilities, showers, and hundreds upon hundreds of two-person tents. Yep, we sleep in the great outdoors, only a feet from each other. Granted, it’s not for everyone, but it’s really not that bad, if you’re prepared. I’ve learned that in addition to a sleeping bag I needed a self-inflating air mat, to provide extra cushion from the ground. A small flashlight is vital for finding your way back to the right tent from the bathroom in the middle of the night. (No, I’ve never tried to enter the wrong tent!) And ear plugs really do help, especially if your tent mate snores like a trucker.

Throughout each of the past four summers, I’ve learned that spending several hours every weekend walking with friends – and fellow candidates for psychotherapy – through wooded parks and quiet neighborhoods is better than sleeping late or mowing the lawn or sitting on the couch watching television. And I’ve learned that even if I wake up in the morning after a restless night in tiny tent, I’m not too tired to walk all day – particularly in the company of over 2,000 beautiful women.

Now, five years later, I know only a little more about breast cancer than I did prior to Stacey being diagnosed. But I’ve witnessed the indomitable spirit of those who fight the disease. Every year I see survivors, some still undergoing chemotherapy, walking for three days, displaying far more courage and strength than I could ever hope to have.

I'm walking again in the 2008 Breast Cancer 3-Day. I joke that it’s a habit now – or that it’s a great way to meet women. But I walk because I can – and for others who can’t. I walk for those I’ve come to know who are fighting breast cancer. And I walk for all the women in my life who are healthy and hope to stay that way.


Scott's Official 3-Day Countdown: 87 days until Day 1