I'll try to sum up what this day meant for me and try not to get too emotional about it. The day before the "race"--and by race I mean non-competitive walk--we spent as a family. A few quick errands and a nap for Camden and then it was on to see Leah and her family. We planned to spend the night at the Water Park of America hotel, so we packed up and headed down to Bloomington. Met at the front desk by four very wet boys we got checked in and headed up to our room. Upgrade by Leah's hotel points we stayed in a grand suite. Bunk beds, there were bunk beds in our room! A beautiful suite, but no time to look around we had a water park to get to.
Four hours later after tackling the family tube slide, lazy river, kid area, and the hot tub we were all spent. The boys were all rubbing their eyes and Camden was signing eat continuously. Good thing there was a restaurant in the hotel.
After a great night's sleep in a bed I never wanted to leave, we got ready and packed and went for breakfast. We met up with Leah and the boys and had the breakfast buffet before heading over to the Mall of America. I was adorned in my pink shirt and scarf and walking shoes. I was still feeling great from treatment. I was feeling blessed. A team of over 20 people were walking in my honor. Humbled and blessed.
My bestie Melissa had organized the team of a lot of family and a lot of Sam's co workers and many of our friends. Watching the group gather brought tears to my sun glassed covered eyes. The excitement for saving breasts was overwhelming!!
As 9:00am closed in we made our way to the start line adorned with the American flag. I get goosebumps every. single. time. I hear the national anthem.
The sea of people all walking for one cause: to eventually eradicate breast cancer. It was so invigorating to be in the same place all walking for the same thing. The white shirts representing those who are supporting and the pink shirts representing those fighting and those who have conquered the disease. I didn't want to hide my pink behind my coat. I wanted all to see that this is a young women's disease too and we fight hard and nasty.
Making our way to the starting line was showing us adults how chaotic the walk would be. 6 kids in total and one wagon. You can tell Leah is used to leading her small herd through crowds. I think the rest of us were more nervous than she, but good thing Melissa's boy friend wore a bright yellow Livestrong sweatshirt. He was a great landmark!!
Julie Nelson and Jared Sebesta from the local Kare 11 News counted down the walk. 3-2-1 and we were walking. Nearly 50,000 people in total for the day participating in the fight against breast cancer. Each and everyone of them affected by the disease in some manner.
We saw a lot of back with pinks placards in celebration and in memory. Seeing men and women my age who were walking in memory of their moms or sisters brought me to tears. Some times I feel if I could just fight harder to take away the fight for others. I didn't seem to find the table with these placards, but if I could make one now I would walk in celebration of the following women:
Jessica--my breast cancer angel
Vanessa (http://thelivesincerelyproject.com/)
My grandma Mary--83 years old and doing amazing
My friend Kim's mom--newly diagnosed
All women diagnosed under 30
And . . . ME
The walk got started and we passed under the START banner. Just passed the banner was a set of overpasses. The voices would echo so the participants were yelling in celebration. After I had promised myself I wouldn't cry, the tears began flowing. I felt like each of those people were cheering for me and my fight. They were cheering because among all the sadness and dispare that breast cancer brings there is everlasting hope. Hope that one day, through research and support, there will be no more breast cancer. That another mother at age 28 with a 15 month old son and a 3 year old marriage will not have to hear those ugly words. That there will be no missing work because of major surgery and chemo therapy. That there will be lot of natural breasts and moms who are able to breastfeed their children. That no one will have to live the nightmare my family has lived. But, we will conquer this. And that moment, when so many people were yelling, I felt hope and promise that my dream will come true.
We continued to march on. The walk winded through a neighborhood of supporters. The kids were having a blast. Trading turns in the wagon to keep warm and rest their little legs. Camden felt the need to walk himself. His little body got going faster than his legs and he fell and hit his head. He's fine, just a ginormous bruise and a little road rash that looks like someone took a bite out of his head.
He decided he needed a nap during the race. This was the only way, he would not lay down. He's my sweet boy that will never know a life without fighting breast cancer. Of course as a mother, I would take this all away in a heart beat. But, in some ways I'm proud; it shows him how to be compassionate and loving and I feel like we are rearing a fighting spirit. Not that he needed more of it--we are feisty Scandinavians by blood.
We approached the near 2 mile mark as we rounded a corner. This corner was deemed "hug a survivor" corner. My team rushed over to hug me. These are only some of the people that I know are equally fighting my fight with me. My hug back was hugging them because they are a survivor, too.
As we neared the finish line and the mall the excitement began to pick up again. KS95 was announcing teams and survivors as they crossed the finish line. Melissa and I took this as an ample opportunity to have a photo op. My personal goal is to run the race next year--again, don't tell my boss. He will really think that I've lost it--so Melissa and I took a picture of me "running" across the finish line. I don't know what happened to this picture or else I would share. As we finished up our photo op the announcer grabbed Melisa and asked my name. All of a sudden I heard over the speakers "Entering Survivor Nicole!!" So awesome to hear my name and hear people cheer.
After the walk the survivors were to go inside the rotunda of the mall for the survivor ceremony. I think this is the part I was most nervous for. I'm young, I look young and therefore I look like I don't belong. Most of these women are at least 50 and older. As we entered the rotunda my nerves settled. I was following an elderly woman who placard on her back said she was celebrating 37 years cancer free. What hope and inspiration. She will never know what she gave me by simply walking in front of me.
The camaraderie among these women is insurmountable. I was looking for a seat and the women kindly ushered me down the row. I was about four rows back, front and center in the sea of pink shirts.
Hosted by Kare 11's Rena and Blake, the ceremony began with Native American drumming and shall dancing and jungle dress dancing. As they were dancing the woman made friends and embraced. We all knew. Whether stage 0 or stage 4. We all knew.
There was an inspiring speech by a 26 year old male breast cancer survivor. His shirt said "Rare but There". So true my friend. What an inspiration of hope. He said we should shout from the roof tops like Dr. Seuss's Horton--"We Are Here!". Yes. I am here and I will shout loudly until we find a cure.
There was music and dancing, hugging and crying. We all stood for the years we've been survivors. I stood for the newly diagnosed. Adorned with my matching pink scarf, I began to cry. The 10 year survivor to my left stood to embrace me. Then we laughed because my nose was running so bad because I don't have nose hairs. Another relation to the woman who had been through chemo. When I stood I locked eyes with another young women. Clearly, she was my age. Another in the under-researched group of diagnosed under 30. The rotunda was lined with people celebrating with the survivors and cheering us on.
The ceremony ended with a bang. I cried tears of hope, tears of inspiration, tears of fear of the unknown, tears for my family, tears for all of those affected. But at the end of the day I realized I was crying tears of happiness. There haven't been many of those in the last few months, but I was so happy. I was happy to be surrounded by the love of my husband and son and all those walking in my honor, I was happy to be part of a community that all hate breast cancer as much as I do, and I was happy to just be a part of my first Race for the Cure.
Overall, and to end this very long post, Happy Mother's Day and remember to check your boobs!
You are an inspiration to us Nicole. We love you so much and are rooting for you all the way.
ReplyDelete