Shopping for Sandals

You should know I had to go shopping…again. You also know that for me shopping is synonymous with stress. Those of you who know me well will simply burst out laughing at me after reading this…go right ahead. But I swear this is all the truth and, well, if you want to “unfriend” me after you read this I understand.

Africa will be between 80 and 85 degrees which reasonably warrants wearing sandals most of the time and wearing my dusty, red, tennis shoes at least some of the time. Last time I went to Africa I left my sandals because I was supposed to leave everything behind. This time, I need sandals again. This part was easy. Just wait.

The quandary arises when I try to identify exactly the right sandals. There are, of course, a few criteria. I really don’t think these criteria are all that outrageous.
• They must match ALL of my clothes.
• They must cost about $10.
• They must be comfortable for a lot of walking both on pavement and on grass.

As for matching ALL of my clothes…my pants are all black. I am trying to blend in a little more as well as be comfortable. I figured some black athletic pants would work in hopes that I also don’t roast. Luckily I gave away all my dresses from last time and I had hoped to find some neutral color skirts. Instead I was given (bless those who gave) one skirt that is browns and rusts, one that is pink and grey, one that is dark blue, and one that is blue and green sea colors. So black shoes, which would not really match most of my skirts, or maybe a neutral or light tan color, which might not look great with my black pants.

As for the cost…did you know flip flops can cost $40 and that they’re not terribly comfortable? Cheapy flip-flops are even less comfortable. Did you also know that sandals are now on the clearance rack and there are almost none left…anywhere? Did you also know that the style this year is more foo-foo and less practical? Okay, so I saw some folks wearing Keens and thought that might work. Good idea, right? No. Keens cost more than $10, as a matter of fact they cost more than 8 times $10. Okay so I made the mistake of trying them on. I could hear angels singing they were so comfortable. I can find them online for a bit cheaper but by the time I pay shipping to get them here before I leave they cost about the same. Well, if I can wear them other places I could at least justify a little more money but $80? Yikes.

As for comfort…and then there is the selection of Keen styles. Slide (slip on), full body (lots of straps everywhere), and semi-open. All the local stores had only the full body style for me to try on. Then I started thinking that if I was going to get a full body sandal I may as well just wear my tennis shoes, which are strikingly beautiful with skirts. So I’d really like to find some slide on or semi-open to try on. This, of course, requires more shopping. All the while I’m keeping my eye out for some non-Keen sandals.

About now I get back to the “just give me some cheap sandals” that don’t match anything and then I remember that there is no such thing and that five weeks in cheap sandals could be rough. Right…I think I’ll go barefoot.

My Constant Companion

Now that the pressure to walk has been lifted, I feel a sense of freedom related to the time available for other projects. Walking three miles in one hour means that I spent between one and seven hours training for the walk…every day. It almost seemed like a full time job. But…swinging my feet out of bed at 5:00 a.m. knowing that I’ll be walking for five hours that morning is a bit different than getting up to go to a job.

So many benefits come from such a commitment, though. The mental and emotional relief from the stress of Rick’s death was a benefit I enjoyed through walking. I listened to dozens of books on tape, books I would have otherwise never read. Walking is a great activity for physical health, especially if I want sexy legs (haha). Nighttime was particularly welcome as I slept hard on those nights when my walks were longer.

Toward the end of my training time, I began to wonder where the stress from grief had gone. Where was my constant companion? As I am now three days distant from the last walk, I am beginning to feel its presence again. I wondered…am I done grieving? Is there such a thing as done? If there is, I’m not sure I want to be done quite yet…not so much so that I hardly think about this giant part of my life that is now my past.

Instead I think the walking took its place. That constant physical activity relieved the stress of grief as it had when I simply walked around the neighborhood each morning. Yet perhaps there is some magical proportion to relieving this stress. X hours of walking equals X2 less stress. Now that the walking is done, that stress seems to be creeping back in. Good.

I am not a glutton for constant stress or sadness or grief. I am simply acknowledging that there is a sense of comfort in remembering even though doing so brings a sigh. I can’t explain it. I don’t think – although asking my friends may produce a different answer – that I am mopey or that I act like a victim while I carry this grief. Today I simply walk alongside it, my constant and familiar companion.

Perhaps it’s this companion having its proper place is what changes me. This companion may truly be helping me along toward My Second Year purpose. For that, I am so thankful.

Day 3: The Finish

Finally the Ford World Headquarters came into view. Unfortunately we could see it from miles away so it seemed to take forever to actually get there (see the tiny little tents in the distance). I have to admit, the finish line was a bit anti-climactic. There were lots of people there, many of whom were crew. I’m not really sure what I expected, but I do know that I was very glad to be done. All of the sudden my feet weren’t quite so tired.

Then a surprise. My sister and her husband came to watch me cross the finish line. I got word from her on Thursday that they would be coming. I was so excited to see them. I searched the crowd for their faces but remembered I hadn’t given very good information about an approximate finish time. Oh well, once we finally connected on the lawn in front of the stage I hobbled my way over to her and wrapped my smelly, red self around her. Yea, I was SO happy to see her. They drove all the way from Allendale on their wedding anniversary just to see me. I must be special. I thought of how we were next generation sisters just like my Aunts Jean and Jill.

The finish was sweet. I was so glad to be done and I was proud of having participated in such an important event. I know that our small contribution, when added to the contributions of all the other participants, equaled 4.5 million dollars that will go toward breast cancer programs and research. Those programs and that research are the very things that I pray will prevent my aunts, their children, their grandchildren, and all of you from ever having to deal with breast cancer again. Thank you!

Day 3: The Walk

I freely and regrettably admit that I did a very poor job of taking pictures on Day 3, the most important day of all.

Waiting for the 7:00 a.m. start time, a good half hour of additional heat was added to the day as compared to previous day’s starts, I stood next to Jerry. I didn’t know it then, but Jerry and I would walk the entire third day together. As usual the walkers stayed bunched up after we left the gate. A few stop lights later and we were sufficiently spread so as not to be constantly passing one another in the wet grass to the left.

Pit Stops and Grab ‘n’ Gos were plentiful and gave the feeling of making real progress just when my feet were aching to be finished. The blisters, though, seemed not to be bothersome at all. Commando was definitely the right way to go.

Jerry is a 35-year retired Sergeant Major in the United States Air Force. He is married and loves dogs. His walk was for a friend who had breast cancer. I enjoyed Jerry’s company and loved how quickly the walk passed with his conversations. He kept me motivated without even saying a word. He also had a long stride, whew. Thank you Jerry.

Day 3: Pit Stops and Grab ‘n’ Gos

Each walking day was divided by various sections, opportunities to rest and get medical attention if necessary. For example, Day 3 looked like this (there were more stops on Day 3 than on the other days):

• Mile 3.5 Pit Stop
• Mile 5.1 Cheering Station
• Mile 6.1 Pit Stop
• Mile 7.8 Pit Stop
• Mile 9.3 Lunch
• Mile 11.8 Grab ‘n’ Go
• Mile 13.9 Pit Stop
• Mile 16.4 Holding

The Pit Stop was an opportunity for snacks, bathroom breaks, and medical attention. Snacks included these fabulous graham cracker peanut butter and jelly “sandwiches,” fruit, nuts, granola bars, and the like. Water and Gator Aid were always available too. All this food might explain why some folks passed us three or four times. They stopped, I didn’t.

A Grab ‘n’ Go was the opportunity to rest, pee, and get self-help medical attention. There really wasn’t anything to grab at the Grab ‘n’ Go. It seemed that the names were reversed. A Pit Stop should have been a bathroom break and a Grab ‘n’ Go should have been the food. Oh well, I had it figured out and I barely walked through the stops taking time only to stretch and refresh the ice bags for my head.

A Cheering Station was a designated spot where the entire town would come and cheer on the walkers. They offered water, ice, candy, ice pops, fruit, and other yummy food. On Day 1 at just about the time I dared wish for an ice cream sandwich one lady had one, the only ice cream of all three days. The Plymouth cheering station was amazing, a person could bawl their eyes out when the town center is cram packed with people cheering their hearts out just for you – I was the only one passing by at the time. All of them were wonderful as were all the individuals who sat in their yards and passed out treats. Such community support, it was amazing.

Day 3: The Morning

Like the morning of Day 2, we were awakened by floodlights. I stretched my legs and my feet before sitting up and discovered that I didn’t feel half bad. I was kind of glad I moderated the previous day’s walk. Oh the poor souls/soles hobbling around the camp that morning. My blisters were still there but they were easily negotiable. I enjoyed breakfast before packing up my gear and leaving my wet tarp taped to the top of my bag. The trucks would bring our gear to the finish line.

Day 2: The Evening

Returning to camp, showering, waiting for dinner, the evening celebrations…they were all very similar to the previous night. I did have the opportunity to relax, watch “The Naked Man” episode of How I Met Your Mother and play two rounds of Bingo in the New Balance tent. The previous night’s karaoke was replaced with a dance party. A few dances were familiar – the Cupid Shuffle, the Chicken Dance, the Macarana, YMCA, and a couple others. Yep, I danced to what I knew. I figured no one here would ever see me again, although one guy started filming me until I freaked.

At one point during the evening activities, rain sprinkled down. After…a full rainbow covered the sea of pink tents. I couldn’t back up far enough to get the whole thing in one picture but it was certainly a beautiful and very appropriate site.

Back in the super hot tent with a smidge of rain falling and high hopes of sleep. Tomorrow’s walk will be amazing! I am ready.

Day 2: The Walk

Hmm, how honest to be. I'm going for authentic so here is the truth. Okay, I didn’t walk all 21.8 miles, I walked about 12. I spent most of the day berating myself for not having walked the whole thing and then berating myself for not recognizing that the real achievement was raising awareness about breast cancer and raising the funds for research. My logic went something like this…I want to prevent my hot spots from getting worse making it impossible to walk the entire distance on the last day. And then…but this is a once in a lifetime chance to really do something important, I really should push myself regardless of the blisters. Back and forth I argued with myself. I can be quite convincing sometimes.

I am sorry to disappoint you all. Did I do my best? Well…if I weren’t so worried about the blisters getting worse and then not being able to walk the third day… Okay, if I would have just taken each day one at a time and let God manage the rest. Ugh, see how it goes?

P.S. Happy shoes not such a good plan with blisters.

Day 2: The Remembrance Tent

From a distance the approach to the large white remembrance tent could be seen. Lined with smaller pup tents, each represents one of the 15 locations The 3-Day takes place. Those locations that finished the walk before us – Boston, Cleveland, Chicago – had written messages on the outside of the fabric – message addressed to those who lost their battle with breast cancer.

Approaching the big tent, the sound of soft instrumental music reached my ears. Our Detroit pup tent was inside the larger white remembrance tent offering mourners the chance to express themselves. Along with the opportunity to sign the white pup tent, journals lay out on a table containing more messages of grief. Photos line the walls, including birth and death dates, of women who walked The 3-Day before – 1987 to 2006 is just too few years for any one soul. I pray the names of all the women in my family are never written in these places.

Day 2: The Morning

I woke at 3:00 a.m., following my usual six hours of sleep and managed to doze again until 5:00 when the flood lights came on and made all the tents transparent in the dark. So, how would I put myself together in the most efficient manner (hey, every footstep was painful and needed to be saved for the walk itself)? I applied the moleskin to the blister and one other questionable hot spot, put my walking pack together, changed clothes as discretely as possible, and promptly forgot that I walked 21.2 miles the previous day. Oh my aching feet/legs/blisters/lady parts! I went to breakfast thankful that I didn’t have to tear down camp and move.

Day 1: Bedtime

My tent was ready for me and my tent mate never showed up, thank goodness. The tent is just big enough for two twin mattresses side by side. With just me, I have room for my gear bag and a little more spreading out. Camp closes at 9:00 p.m. and we were all warned to “get to bed.” The view from my door was beautiful. A lady in the tent kiddy-corner from me was very loudly giving her condolences to her friend’s husband whose father passed away that day.

Because of the heat, I just lay on the mattress on my back trying to be still and get cool. I kinda like the air mattress approach except for the slow loss of air…very comfortable. Camp did wind down early but because I’m a light sleeper I kept coming back awake. We were told that we “had better” get up and pee during the night or we weren’t drinking enough. Well, I can hold it for quite a while plus I did not want to get up in the middle of the night. However, every other camper did have to pee in the middle of the night so…I finally slept to the sound of tent zippers going up and down all night.

And it was evening and it was morning the first day.

Day 1: The Evening

I’m sitting in the chow tent now just waiting for a decent time of day to actually eat dinner, it’s only 4:30. All the ants I think are crawling all over me occupy my mind. Perhaps I’ll do a little coloring in the Bug Time book.

Dinner was served at 4:00 and around 5:00 I got in line. Steak, potatoes, green beans, and apple pie. Yum to all of it, especially given the mass production approach. More people are here now and the local entertainment started – tap dancers to Michael Jackson songs.

6:00 – 7:00 should be announcements, stretching, and prize drawing awards.
7:00 – 8:00 camp show including announcements and games.
8:00 – 9:00 karaoke (not by me).

Now that a few hours have passed since assessing my physical state, I can affirm that everything does ache. I should also add to the list…sunburn. I could be a heat source for people in Antarctica. Strangers are commenting that I’m “a little red.” Yes, I used sun block. 20 miles tomorrow sounds very unappealing at the moment.

The air is cooling just a bit and the breeze is kicking up. Camp is abuzz with limping walkers. The crew is running errands for campers – getting water, getting dinner, setting up more tents, fetching things, carrying things. They are absolutely amazing servants. One lady saw the look on my face as I gazed longingly at the hydration station 50 feet away. She grabbed my water bottles and filled them, while I stood in place afraid to move (on account of the private blisters).

Day 1: The Finish

I purposely did not wear my watch or check the distance to each pit stop so that I wouldn’t feel hopelessly slow or that there was still soooooo far to go. Shock is the only word to describe the 7.25 hours in which I finished the walk. That equates to exactly a 3 mph pace, the same pace I held all during training. I am surprised given that I felt like I was dragging at some points in the walk. Even more shocking was that I was number 83 to cross the finish line…of 1,900 people. Crazy, how did that happen? This is not a race, this is not a race.

After resting and hydrating, I went in search of my bag and my tent. I had hoped that my tent mate would arrive before me and have the tent all set up. Instead a crew member grabbed my bag out of my hands, took the tent from me, and proceeded to I-36, like in the game Battleship, to set up my contribution to the growing sea of pink tents. A neighbor inflated my mattress and everything was ready for me to crash, except that it was still SO hot. The mattress could hardly be touched.

Finally, I dragged myself to the shower – in the back of a semi truck (in the tent photo, notice the line of trucks on the way back edge of camp). Cool water (my choice), and some pretty smelling body soap left by the SGK folks, made me very happy. It was after this shower, though, that I discovered all the problems. Blisters on my private parts (the medics said I should go commando tomorrow), a huge blister on the side of my right foot (the medics said DO NOT pop it), road rash on my ankles, and a giant vein bulging on the top of my left foot. Why, I would like to know, did I not have these problems while I was training?

P.S. Why the picture of porta potties? They made such a nice pattern and they seemed to follow us everywhere we went. The Medic's mantra "Drink, pee, no IV."

Day 1: The Walk

A 21.2-mile (yes, the 0.2 miles counts) walk was scheduled for the first day and it just happened to be 92 degrees and sunny. The most I’d walked in one day while training was 18 miles and the hottest was something like 88 so I was ready for the heat. Three more miles would be a piece of cake. The first few miles could have been frustrating given the sheer mass of people who started all at the same time. I decided to go with the flow. After the first pit stop, they started spreading out more which allowed me to set my pace a little more easily.

A group of bikers called the Panthers served as our crossing guards when they weren’t busy cheering for us. Burly biker men serving as crew for the breast cancer walk. I have to say, there was something very sweet about all the men who were participating. I particularly appreciated the free breast exam. Stretch, stretch, stretch at every stop light. The dancing lady moved ahead of the pack every so often so that we saw her several times before we finished. Families set up stands of water, food, or cold towels. I enjoyed a cold towel and an ice cream sandwich among a half dozen or so cold water bottles.

Pam’s family was amazing. I have no idea who Pam was, but her husband and many other family members drove around honking for her, they posted signs all along the route, the stopped in various places to cheer, hug, and refresh her. I was particularly struck by the thought that this is exactly what Rick would have done for me.

My crowning achievement was balancing an ice pack on my head the last 11 miles (which I did on day 2 and day 3 also), periodically refilled after having dribbled down my head and soaked into my clothes as the sun beat down. A few people commented on this feat, even the policemen asked, "Did you know there is an ice bag on your head?" (so helpful). Honestly it was probably the part of the walk that saved me. The pack kept the sun off my head, and the slow drip of water and the ice itself kept my body cool. I believe it was so helpful that I probably won’t leave camp tomorrow without a Ziploc full of ice.

Day 1: Opening Ceremony

Although it was still quite dark when I arrived, I could see the camp full of inspirational posters, flags, and banners. A number of opportunities were offered by which to pay tribute to those special people who either survived or succumbed to breast cancer. I wrote my Aunts’ names everywhere I could.

Opening ceremony began promptly at 6:30 as the 1,900 walkers who were dressed all in pink shuffled into the black metal chute. I stepped in near the back so I could get out quickly and easily. Ten minutes of stretching preceded a ceremony that left us all teary eyed. At 7:15 we were given the charge to begin the walk. No, don’t exit out the way we came in, exit out the front through a staged, single-file line. Yes, I was close to last or at least a late middle before I finally crossed through the gate. It’s not a race, right?

The very first song they played to energize the group was Walking on Sunshine, a song popular in the mid 1980s and performed by Katrina and the Waves. I actually saw them in concert back when they were trying to become better known. The song is so motivating to me that first note from the horn is a very familiar signal. I could name that tune in one note. Rick knew how much that song meant to me and recorded it as a single on a CD. He occasionally played it, perhaps to watch me jump around in excitement. That this would be the first song today was very sweet.

God Loves to Feel

I listened to Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert during one of my extended walks and heard this line: “God loves to feel things through our hands” (Gilbert, 2006, p. 187).

While I don’t agree with her religious theology, the comment made me think. Initially I thought about tactile “feelings” such as the sharp crystals of orange sherbet scraping my tongue when I lick, or the silky soft petal of a flower slipping between my fingers. I wondered whether God really liked the feel of my feet pressing the pavement as I walked or my slick skin drenched with sweat.

Next I thought about emotional “feelings” and about the day I opened the door to the police chaplain, and about how excited I was when all the little children of Kyamagemule swarmed on me. Does God love to feel both the good and the bad?

Finally I thought about how our hands (heads, and hearts) are one way God experiences the world. The indwelling of Christ is a mystery but his loving to feel things through my hands means that my relationships with other people are experienced by him. How I love others, how I serve them, how I long to be with them…these are all feelings God has through my hands. Does that change the way I respond to people? I sure hope so.

We know that he lives in us by the Spirit he gave us (1 John 3:24).

First Walk With New Shoes

(Sunday, July 12) My first walk in my new shoes was somewhat adventurous. I’d mapped out a 14 mile course (about 5 hours) that began at Knapp and Grand River, on the way home from church. About four miles in (just past the Carl Creek Bridge) the sky got dark and the rain poured down. I’m not generally one to care much if it rains because once you’re wet no amount of finishing faster will make you any less wet.

The ear splitting peel of thunder, on the other hand, had me running for cover…literally. I ran to this lady’s porch and asked if I could wait it out. About 10 minutes later I started off jogging toward home. I passed a poor dad and his little boy in a stroller, and their dog. The dad was swearing up a storm of his own because of the rain.

My brand spanking new $100 shoes were completely water logged! Between the shoes and my Smart Wool socks, my feet felt like jelly sponges just holding tight to that precious water. Usually when something is wet there is a sort of wet squish and a release of the water. But this pair seemed like my feet were encased in a gel type liquid. Eeeww.

I ended up running home in a very soggy condition, and with an even stronger desire to just be done with the walk. Instead I changed my clothes and shoes and finished the walk, which in total ended up being 15 miles.

Lake Ann Camp Hike

(Wednesday, July 7) What must I have looked like walking around the trails of this camp all dressed in pink? Easily identifiable is probably the most correct answer. All pink is not so common among young campers, even the girls. I stuck out like cotton candy. Given the humidity on this 90-degree day, I’m sure I looked like cotton candy does when you lick it – you know, it gets dark pink and kind of beady and melty and sticky.

Another oddity was that I not with a camper group. This pink woman walking around the grounds of the camp was probably something to laugh about. Here is where age has its benefits. I don’t think they dared laugh or tease because I’m a full grown adult (most of the time). Lots of counselors said “hello,” as did many campers when spoken to first. No one asked who I was or what I was doing here with any sort of security-like undertones.

Trudging up and down two tracks until the track ended usually at a road or at a cabin, I then returned to take the next trail. I found the giant blow up ball that kids get into and ride to the bottom of a hill. I wanted to ask if I could try, and I’m sure they would have let me, but I didn’t. I found tent-cabins named after constellations. I found horses. I found teen girl and teen guy cabins facing one another – I’m not thinking that was such a good idea.

Eventually I came back to the Three-Mile Hike trail where I met up with the persistent fly once again. Seriously, I wasn’t even thinking about that companion…until he showed up again. Ugh! I just left the trail and didn’t even bother trying to find a compromise with that guy.

I was out for about an hour and a half which means I walked about five miles. Not much but it was good to keep up the exercise. I’m getting to need new shoes pretty seriously.

White Pine Trail

(Sunday, July 4) Here is what I posted on Facebook that morning: Walking the White Pine Trail today from Cedar Springs to Riverside Park - 17+ miles (5+ hours) - in preparation for walking 60 miles over three days to help fight breast cancer. Make a donation to Susan G. Komen on my Facebook page…

When I go away from home, I always look for the opportunity to walk so that I have the chance to experience new terrain and new scenery. The temperature reached 88 degrees at its peak today and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. Why walk in such conditions? I’ll be walking in Detroit in mid August and the conditions may very well be exactly the same as today – or hotter. I need to learn how my body reacts to these conditions and to be prepared to meet its needs along the way.

I learned that two bottles of water isn’t nearly enough. I also learned that, even though I was probably the most goofy looking person around, the cowboy hat my father-in-law gave me to keep the sun off my head did the trick. Yep, bright pink athletic shorts and shirt and a cowboy hat.

I found this trail particularly difficult for two reasons. First, it was long and straight. Except when walking through Rockford, there was nothing much to look at. Trees, path, where the trees shaded the path, where the trees didn’t shade the path. Second, there was no way to get off the trail and shorten the walk if I lacked energy. I did okay and am glad I walked the whole thing, but not having the choice of shortening the walk was a bit claustrophobic. Happily, I finished the trail in exactly the amount of time I anticipated. Yea me!

African Rain

(Friday, June 18) The second of three early morning Uganda walks took Gabriel and me back to Lutembe Beach. I’d not had batteries in my camera (duh) the first time and wanted to return for some pictures. The skies were dark and cloudy even in the early hours. After pausing at a covered table, the rain started coming down. Even though the weather was dark, we still enjoyed the view over Lake Victoria.

On the way back from the beach, it poured…hard. I learned later that for the past four years Africa had been in a drought. No rain or at least very little of it. This year the rains returned and the landscape was thick, lush, and very green. This was the only day while I was in Uganda where the morning time stars weren’t big and bright the day time skies weren’t a brilliant blue. The rain continued to pour down on us for the rest of the one and a half hour walk. The heavy rain washed the red dust from the foliage revealing a brilliant, sparkling green.

At one point Gabriel asked how I liked walking in the rain. I actually thought I was privileged to experience the African rains up close and personal. I think Gabriel was freezing, though he never complained.

Once closer to town we took some back roads to when returning to Lauren’s duplex. Those roads were tricky. The canyons were brimming with water for lack of any sewer system. Rock was exposed in some places but in other places the ground was covered with the slick red clay making footing unstable. Even though we walked past Gabriel’s apartment, he refused to do anything other than walk me all the way to the door of Lauren’s duplex.

My shoes are covered with the thick red dust of Uganda that I’ll never shake off.