The 3 Day San Diego Breast Cancer Walk

After 8 weeks of training, we finally hit the pavement in San Diego and started ticking off the miles. These weren’t training miles. Nope, these were the real thing.

Those 3 days were perhaps the most amazing, magical 3 days I’ve experienced. A microcosm of all that is good and right in the world. Three days of enthusiasm, of inspiration, of encouragement, of determination, of caring, of service, of support, and of laughter. And did I mention pink? There was lots and lots of pink. I have really never experienced anything quite like it before, but despite the crazy beauty of the event itself, I know one thing for sure. I am never, ever, ever, NOT EVER, walking 60 miles again. No sir. Not me. ☺

Still, the experience was amazing, in no small part due to the incredible cast of volunteers. There were nearly 5000 walkers and more than 550 volunteers, supporters and staff. I would love to see the operations manual for this event, because as near as I could tell, it ran flawlessly.

We arrived very early Friday morning at the Del Mar Fairgrounds, where we were met by volunteers dressed in their pajamas and fuzzy slippers. Apparently they had just rolled out of bed in order to help us load our luggage onto the trucks that would carry it to our campsite, some 20 miles south.

We made our way to the Opening Ceremonies where we quickly found our friends Steve, Jenne’ and Momme’. It was easy to find Jenne' as she is the national spokesperson for the 3 Day. If you can find the stage, you can almost always find Jenne’. In fact, Jenne’ is who first told us about the 3 Day and we initially signed up in support of her. As we began training and fundraising, it became so much bigger than that, but seeing her up on stage was a very cool reminder of how our journey started.

And then we were off. All 5000 of us padded our way through the streets and sidewalks of Del Mar. We climbed the hills of Torrey Pines State Park, wound our way down to La Jolla Cove and finally, 20 miles and 11 hours later, Sam and I arrived at camp which was in Mission Bay Park, right on the water.

Along the way we were cheered by countless numbers of supporters.
Office buildings hung giant banners along the route and hundreds of office employees came out to clap and cheer for us. Shops and restaurants put out bowls of candy, snacks, Kleenex, sunscreen, lip balm, balloons and buttons. Individuals dressed themselves, their children and their animals in pink and stood outside their homes waving and clapping for us. At the top of one particularly steep hill a couple spritzed us with water bottles, and at the top of another hill, a resident had thrown a hose over the fence so we could splash our faces. Still others put stereo speakers in their windows or boom boxes in their driveways to play music as we passed by.

And then there were the walker stalkers. These were dedicated individuals who followed us along the route to entertain us. They would stop in one spot, let us pass, and then drive several miles ahead of us, stop and do it all again. One guy sang to us through speakers in the back of his truck. Another handed out smiley face pins with his 4 year old daughter.



And this hilarious older gentleman wore a sign around his neck that proclaimed “I’m a Breast Man!”



Everybody loved the San Jose bicycle police as they flirted and popped wheelies for us.



But my favorites were these two women who dressed as cows, drove a black and white spotted PT Cruiser and road around telling us to “Moooo-ve it!”



There were 3 Day volunteers who dressed in crazy costumes and drove up and down the route honking and cheering. They drove sweep vans, which were vans you could take to the next pit stop if you were hurt or just too tired, and each van was decorated in a different theme, including this one which was covered in bras.








And every 2-3 miles there were pit stops with a medic tent, port-a-potties, snacks, Gatorade and water. Each of the pit stops had a theme and all of the volunteers dressed accordingly.


Needless to say, we were thoroughly encouraged and entertained, and the show of support from the community was particularly touching. Still, the miles were long and hard, and both Sam and I limped into camp that first night, certain we wouldn’t be able to do another 20 miles the next day. Despite our training, we both developed shin splints and muscle cramps, but thankfully no blisters that first day.

We set up our tent, organized our gear, ate dinner (Oh my God did it taste amazing even though it was just pasta and sauce). We showered in semi truck trailers and the showers were some of the best I’ve ever had! The water was hot, hot, hot, the water pressure ferocious and the trailers themselves were filled with steam, almost like a sauna.

Everyone watches for the last walker to come into camp, so we can cheer them. When that person arrives, everyone goes crazy with excitement! The last walker has the honor of raising the flag over camp, which signifies that everyone is home and safe.

And then - lights out at 9:00 pm. Sam and I slept like rocks, despite the sleeping bag and tent. I think I could have slept anywhere as tired as I was. I got up in the night to go to the bathroom (the worst part about camping) and it was really cool to look to my right and see the ocean and to my left and see a sea of pink tents.

People began getting up at 4:30 and 5:00 the next morning. Sam and I slept in (!) till 5:30am. Then it was breakfast, stretching and we were back on the trail. Day 2 wasn’t significantly harder than Day 1, but it was long. Our route took us through Ocean Beach and Sunset Cliffs. At one point, we looked down an alley and saw walkers going the opposite direction at the other end. We realized if we cut through it would be a huge shortcut. It was tempting, so tempting, but we talked ourselves out of it.

That night we went to the camp show which included a karaoke contest, a lost and found fashion show and believe it or not, a dance party. I would not have believed it had I not seen it with my own eyes, but as Jenne’ so aptly put it, “Nothing says I’ve just walked 40 miles like doing the electric slide.” The stage and dance floor were crowded with people dancing their hearts out. Of course I’m convinced they all took sweep vans back to camp right after mile 6. Ha!


Sam and I visited the Remembrance Tents that night as well. There were 14 white tents that sat on a slight rise at the edge of camp, each illuminated from the inside creating a beautiful glow. 13 of the tents represented each city where a 3 Day walk had been held this year. The 14th tent was larger and inside was a smaller white tent, also illuminated from the inside. The large tent was lined with photos of women who had participated in a 3 Day walk whose lives had been lost to breast cancer, some only weeks earlier. There was a long table with journals to write in, and there were markers so that you could write the name of your loved one on the smaller white tent. It was beautiful and sad and put our sore muscles and aching feet into sharp relief.
Day 3 started with everyone taking down their tents. It was sad to see camp come down even though it meant I would soon be sleeping in a real bed.

Day 3 was a killer for me. My feet were hurting terribly after just 2 miles and I was so afraid I wouldn’t be able to finish. We saw a lot of walking wounded that day, people with bandaged knees, ankles and shins. People with entire sections of their shoes cut away to deal with blisters. Both Sam and I had shin splints, muscle cramps, blisters and sore, sore feet.

Our route took us past the Mission Bay Golf Course, Fiesta Island, Old Town San Diego, Mission Hills Park, and Balboa Park. The route was especially pretty, but still it was a struggle for me to maintain a positive attitude. I wanted to quit. I WANTED TO SIT DOWN! I asked everyone around me, “How are you doing? How do you feel?” They all said the same thing. “We hurt. We are tired. We want to quit.” But they didn’t. Everyone kept walking. One foot in front of the other. I did the same.

Left. Right. Left… ouch! Right. Every 15 seconds my brain asked me if I wouldn’t like to quit, if I wouldn’t like to end this insanity. Left. Right. Left. Right. I kept telling myself to walk normally, because as soon as I gave into the pain, I would begin to hobble which caused other parts of my body to clench up and hurt. Left. Right. Walk naturally. Good. Keep going. Left. Right. Ouch!




Finally, finally, it was over. When I saw the gate to Petco Park, which signaled the end, I burst into tears. Thank God we’d made it. The walkers who had finished before us had formed a long tunnel for us to walk through in celebration of completing the walk. They high-fived us and hugged us and cheered us. It was so cool.



Once everyone had arrived we walked together, arms linked, and wearing our white “completion” t-shirts, into the closing ceremonies. The staff and volunteers and supporters lined our path and it felt a bit like “This is your life” to see them all together at one time.

Once we were in, the survivors, all wearing pink t-shirts, walked in together. Everyone took off a shoe and raised it in the air to honor them. These steps were for you.

Closing ceremonies, and then it was over. There were hugs and tears as we all said our goodbyes and went our separate ways. I knew for certain as we climbed into our cab that we were leaving something remarkable, something much bigger than the two of us.

I thought of the women whose photos were on the walls of the Remembrance Tent. I thought of Rhonda, Katherine’s Mom. I thought of Katherine. I thought of my own grandmother. I thought of the women whose stories I learned from all of you, whose names are scrolling on my 3-Day webpage. And I knew my blisters would heal, my feet would stop hurting, and my muscles would relax. But until there is a cure for breast cancer, moms and daughters and sisters and grandmothers will not have the same luxury of quick recovery as I do.

Thank you for your exceedingly generous support and encouragement. Because of you, Sam and I were able to present a combined contribution of nearly $28,000. Because of you, we are that much closer to finding a cure.

Thank you. From the bottom of our hearts, thank you.