Day 3 - Coming Home

Sunday morning...refreshing 50-degree air waiting for me as I crawled out of my tent. Did I mention that I had a tent to myself the whole weekend? My assigned tentmate, a young man named Michael with dark hair (except for the pink stripe on top), moved to an empty tent in another part of camp on Friday afternoon, near his other teammates. I enjoyed the chance to keep my gear inside and to have room to get my act together in the morning and at night. The tents seem spacious when you're the only one in there, but they turn into the size of a broom closet when the second person arrives. I don't know about the snuggling and spooning habits of my fellow walkers - perhaps women are less self-conscious about such things when they share a tiny tent on a chilly night - but even when I've had a [male] tentmate, we've chosen to respect each other's space. Maybe that's more than you all needed to know...

After taking down tents and packing up our gear and saying goodbye to our home away from home, Day 3 took us out onto the streets of Maplewood and North St. Paul, where I lived with my family for more than ten years. We walked through neighborhoods I knew well and past the park where I played baseball. Another huge throng greeted us at 8:00 AM at the morning cheering station. (whoever came up with this cheering station idea deserves a medal) My feet felt good, I had a smile on my face, and after another hour, my hands and arms were no longer freezing.

It's hard to describe what it's like walking on the 3-Day. You have to experience it yourself and even then, I'm not sure it's something that can be fully understood. How do you explain being in an endless line of humanity, walking on a sidewalk or through a park, passing by people who are there to clap and cheer for you? Cars drive by, honking their horns, with passengers hanging out the windows, screaming and waving. Every few miles, there is a pit stop with a row of green port-a-potties - on any other day a curious, if not nauseating, sight, but on the 3-Day they are the doorway to heaven. (Or not, I guess that's a little much!)

I enjoy seeing all the familiar faces of walkers and crew from my participation in past events, some whose names I can never remember (although they remember mine) and some whose names I'll never know. Every year, I tell myself that I'm going to take pictures of these people and perhaps have them sign my little notebook, so I can remember them. But every year, I lose myself in the event. We exchange greetings and a few pleasantries about the weather or the route or someone's blisters. And then we continue on. I wonder if they know how much it means to me to be able to know them, even for only a few minutes at a time over the course of three days.

Our final day of walking took us past 3M World Headquarters and into Battle Creek Regional Park, a hidden gem in the city of St. Paul. We walked along Highway 61, waving to the cars honking as they passed. Crew members filled up our water bottles at the base of a loooooonnnnggg uphill climb (at mile 55!!!), which led up to a endless cheering station that started half a mile before Indian Mounds Park and continued on sporadically for another mile to our final pit stop of the day. Awesome...totally awesome!!!

Finally, we made our way into downtown St. Paul, escorted by more crew members and walker stalkers. Some of us stopped at The Bulldog for an "unofficial" pit stop before walking the last few blocks to the State Capitol, where we were welcomed home by what seemed like thousands of walkers, crew, family, and friends. And then...it was party time! 60 miles...WE DID IT!!!

I enjoyed another hour or so with my Angel Wings teammates - Selina, Lori, Katy, Teresa, Connie, Anne, and Ashley - relaxing on the grass in the shade and welcoming hundreds more walkers. We walked together with everyone else in one final victory march to the closing ceremonies. We cheered our crew, our supporters, the survivors among us...and ourselves. We vowed to continue the fight until we can live in a world without breast cancer. And we said goodbye...until next year.