I never imagined that I would sign up to do something like this. Never. It wasn’t something I had come up with on my own. I had just been thinking over and over for about a week or two “Susan Komen”... It just kept coming to my mind. I figured that I would be joining my sister this year in the 5k. She and my niece walked it last year, and I kind-of assumed that it would be soon and I would do it. Then I got an email from my sweet friend Corrie. I have known Corrie for almost 12 years. She was emailing me to ask for my support as she walked the Breast Cancer 3-day. I had no idea what was coming next. I asked her for more information and told her that I was considering it (only because I feel like the Lord had prepared me to say yes.) Then, I got the details and I was uncertain. But, I knew that if the Lord asked me to do it, He would give me the strength to carry it through. I imagined long walks (with my iPod) training for the event. This never happened. I was never able to go more than 4 miles during training. Babies just don’t last for 10 miles in a stroller. Ha! So, I felt quite unprepared as I headed to Dallas Thursday night. I felt VERY unprepared. As we drove to the event on Friday morning (after getting 4 hours of sleep the night before) I was uncertain of what would come next, but I knew that it would take God’s help for me to make it 20 miles. I couldn’t even think about 60!
We stood until the sun came up. We talked, we stretched a little, we took a few photos... And we waited. We waited for the start of what would become one of the most physically challenging things I would ever do. Starting out the miles flew by. The first 5 miles were a breeze. We laughed and headed out to the next “pit stop” talking about how it was going better than any of us had imagined. And then between mile 5 and 7 something happened. We talked less. We worked harder. Things started to hurt. And the next 13 miles seemed to be fading into something unattainable. The girls I was walking with were really doing well, so I encouraged them to go on (after all, I can make friends with a brick wall), and I wanted them to go while they could. I stopped and stretched. I saw that lunch (which was basically the halfway point) was still 5 miles away... And I almost lost heart. I made a visit to the medical tent and bandaged up my toes that were starting to blister... and off I went. I don’t remember everything. I know it took me 10 hours that day to walk the 20 miles. I know I hardly stopped, and I ate my lunch in the medical line every day while I waited to get my blisters covered and my knee wrapped. The mileage was taking its toll on my body. By the time I reached camp that evening, I had walked the whole thing. I never took a van, or a bus... and my body was absolutely reminding me of that. I found out later that it was actually 24 miles that we walked that first day. I dragged myself into camp. I had made the last two miles telling a sweet lady I met about my Mia’s story. It made the time go by, and it seemed like her precious story was a great way to forget about the things that were happening in my body. I got to camp and saw a couple thousand (literally) tents. I saw my row (H) and headed that way. I was physically so worn out. My feet hurt so bad. My head hurt. I literally couldn’t even think about walking the whole way to my tent. It was fourth from the end of the row... all the way down the isle. I see my luggage (it was some of the very last on the truck) and start loading myself up like a pack mule. I was ready to cry. I was beyond ready to cry. I started walking and praying that I could make it to my tent. Halfway there I thought about crawling and dragging my stuff. My feet were just done. But, I trudged on, and just before I started crying out loud, my friend said “Christy!” I had made it. I got my things out of my bag to take a shower and I took my tennis shoes off. It was then that I saw the blood in my sock. I couldn’t fathom how I would be able to walk any of the mileage the next day. My friends encouraged me to get dinner before my shower and then go to the medial afterwards. I just did what they said because it seemed reasonable, and it kept me from having to think. We ate. We all went to the showers, and then I drug my very worn out body one foot in front of the other to the medical tent. I sat and waited to get my blisters treated. I was disheartened by the day to say the least. My feet hurt so badly. My head hurt. My whole body hurt.
The lady that was looking at my foot called her supervising medic over. They stared at the blister that had popped on its own and told me that there was nothing they could do for it because it was under a callous on my foot. Then they looked at my pinky toe, and they looked at me and then they looked at each other. This didn’t seem to be very good. She popped the blister (which shouldn’t have hurt I realized later), but she went too deep, and my toe started bleeding and bleeding and bleeding... Oh it hurt. I thought I was going to be sick. But, she wrapped it and looked at the others and said I would be better to leave them alone. I took her word for it and went to my tent. I got out my Bible and read one sentence, and went to sleep.
I can’t explain what happened in the night. I didn’t sleep very well. I woke up many times and tossed and turned... I was still tired the next morning, but I was ready to try again. Unbelievably, the blister that she popped (as well as the one that had popped on its own) felt incredibly better. This I contribute to the many friends I had specifically praying for my feet!
I set out the next morning hoping to make the first pit stop which was about 3 miles away. I made it, had my blisters treated and kept on going. I made it 5 miles before I had to catch a van. I had to go to the bathroom (really bad) and there were no gas stations, or port-a-pottties in sight. So, I was sad to take the van, but relieved at the thought of having a little less to walk. The van took me to lunch and I got a head start on the remaining 11 miles for the day. I walked and found new friends and listened to stories and told some of my own. I took pictures with people I hadn’t known until that day, and I walked into camp that night feeling very tired, but thinking that it really could be possible to finish it out the walk (on my own two feet). I went to bed early. Read a little more of my Bible and prayed for my friends I had told I would pray for on my walk.
It was a hard thing to realize that while I was walking it was so difficult to focus on prayers for others. I wanted to pray, I started (many times) to pray for people, and I would be interrupted in my prayer by a crooked sidewalk that caught me off guard, or by the pain in my knee, or the need for a bathroom. It was hard to focus on anything but myself. I hated that. So, as I walked I tried to make new friends and be a light to them... It was better than thinking about my toes :0)
As I walked into the last cheering station for the day (this was a station that was set up just for us to be encouraged and literally hundreds of people came out to clap and tell us we were doing great!) I started crying. I couldn’t stop. One lady held up a sign that had Isaiah 40:31 on it. Soar on wings as eagles... Hope in the Lord. The truth made me a very broken lady. It was then that I realized that I was walking faster (by a lot). I realized that over and over again the Lord was putting in my mind this one thing, “since you are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses..) That was it! It was the perfect picture of my life. In the cheering station, as I hear and see the people telling me it is possible... I walk faster... I lift my head. I smile and think to myself “This is possible after all”. But as their cheering fades, and the road ahead looks hard, and I loose sight of those witnesses, I lose the ability to persevere and I forget that “Nothing is impossible for God”. If only I could “see” those witnesses in my mind all the time. If only I could remember that there were those that went before me, who are cheering me on towards the goal... The prize. I could walk in a holier way. I could press on towards godliness with fervor. I know that there is much left for me to realize from this walk. I know that I was worn out -physically and emotionally by the time I was finished.
On the last day, as I was 3/4 of a mile from the finish line, I stubbed my worst blistery toe. At first there was no pain at all. Then, there was a tingling numbness. And then, the most excruciating pain I have ever felt. I kept walking because I knew that if I slowed down I would never make it to the finish line. I literally walked faster and faster with tears streaming down my face from the pain saying, “Jesus help me, Jesus help me” all the way. It was the only thing I could do. I was crying out to Him. I told Him over and over, “It hurts so bad... It just hurts so bad” and then my friend sent me a text message. It said, “How much more you got left?” I texted her back, “less than one mile, but I just stubbed one of my blisters really hard and I am crying.” And she texted me back this scripture in record time! Her fingers must have been flying over those keys! It said, “the Lord your God who goes before you will Himself fight for you... You have seen how the Lord your God carried you as a man carries his son, all the way that you went until you came to this place.” Deut. 1:30. Needless to say, the tears flowed even more, and then the most amazing thing happened. The pain began to lessen, it did not go away. It was still very painful to walk each step, but it was getting less and less and I was getting closer and closer.
As I walked through the crowd of people (who represented the finish line) cheering and telling me “You did it! You made it all the way!” I was crying. I was given a pink rose, and a t-shirt and then I stood on the other side of the crowd. I can’t tell you all of the things that were going through my head. I was suddenly lonely. I had done it. I made it all the way. I had finished 60 miles. I was so tired. I was so sore. I wanted my mommy. Wasn’t that the real reason I was walking in the first place? I just stood there holding my stuff in my hands and cried. A sweet friend I had met on the walk came running over. She threw her arms around my neck and said, “Christy, you did it!” I just hugged her and cried. I cried because never in my life had I persevered under such hard circumstances and never in my life had I been in so much pain at once. I sent out a text to Ken and a few other friends that simply said, “I did it.” That was all I could say. I had finished and God had helped me. Bloody feet. Sore muscles. Tired body and heart, but God had sustained me, and I was finished. Praise God for His Grace and His mercy! I can’t wait to see what more He has to show me over the next few weeks and months about who He is, and this great cloud of witnesses that is really cheering me on towards holiness. What a journey! What a lot to take in. Thank you for supporting me. Thank you for donating to this cause that will move research forward. My children thank you, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart.
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