Thursday, March 15, 2012

Walking in Pain

I joined the Avon Walk for Cancer at the end of January. At that time, my mother in law, Ruth, was battling breast cancer but she was alive. My foot didn't hurt. My confidence was strong.

Then Ruth died. We knew it was coming but it was still a surprise - like you can see the swing coming but when it hits, it still knocks your breath out. That's been a hard thing to overcome.

Then an old injury on my foot returned. I'm in PT now to fix this. I don't care if it's a permanent fix or not. I don't care if the surgeon needs to sever the nerves in my foot. I just want to walk. I need to do this.

When I signed up for this, I did this with Ruth's blessing. We talked about why this was a good idea. I'm great with ideas, less awesome with follow through. This would be good for me. I need to do something for me. Just for me. This was it. It would help me get healthy - walking is good for me, right? It would be nice to take time for myself to do something. My family would be on board, supporting me the whole way. Such nice thoughts. The reality has been a bit different.

Walking takes a lot of time. Blocking out 3-5 hours at a time is hard. Not impossible but hard - especially when I have my kids. PT takes a lot of time. My confidence is shaken.

So many people have said well-intended things: an injury is a valid reason not to walk; you don't have to do this, etc. They don't get it. I have to do this. I promised Ruth I would. I promised myself I would. This is important.

My support team and walking partners have been awesome. I expected Mike, Ruth's son, to be supportive but he's gone above and beyond. He regularly "pimps me out" and helps get me donations. My kids make "flair" for my backpack and are selling little pins they made to their classmates to help me make my $1800 donation requirement. My Significant Other, Andrew, walked with me when it was snowy and cold and continues to do so when it's beautiful. He encourages me and walks right next to me. And my walking partner, Amanda, slightly more than an acquaintance before, has become a great friend and drives me. I can't let her down.

One way or another I will do this. I'm stubborn. Confidence will come back. Hopefully.


  1. You can. You will. Even if you limp and drag and bleed and cry. No doubt in my mind whatsoever.

    Keep kicking ass.

  2. Judi, if I can do it, anyone can! My knee still reminds me on a regular basis of how hard it was, and how all the pain was worth it. You can do this! Go to my timelilne, and look at the girl in the yellow dress. She is my new inspiration. You'll see why. Keep on truckin!

  3. Thank you both for the votes of confidence. I know I'll do it. I just didn't understand how are it would be physically and, more of a surprise to me, emotionally now that my reason for doing this is no longer here. Carrie, I saw that when you posted it. Good reminder. Thanks.