Areas of Unrest

24 October 1999 - Sisters With Blisters

QOTD: "Do not meddle in the affairs of dragons, for you are crunchy and taste good with ketchup." - Anonymous

Reading: today's L.A. Times but I promise to get back to real books soon

Listening to: nothing on the stereo but I am moaning and groaning a lot!

This is just a short entry to let people know I am back from the Avon 3 Day Breast Cancer walk. The first day (from Santa Barbara to Ventura, 18.45 or 19.24 miles depending on whether you measure from the entrance to the campsite or to where we actually camped) was magnificent, but I got a few blisters on my right foot. The second morning, I was surprised not to be sore. I had been really good about stretching and that obviously helped a lot. My blisters got worse, though, and by the end of the day (13.64 miles), every toe on my right foot had a blister, the ball of that foot had 2 large blisters, and 2 of the toes of my left foot were blistered.

All of which more or less defeated me (or should I say de-feeted?) today. I managed to hobble along through a third of the 22.47 mile route, encouraged along by walking with other women who were in similar agony. You used to hear the word "sisterhood" a lot in feminist circles, but I never felt such a sense of kinship with other women as I did trudging along the roads of Ventura County! At times the only thing that kept me taking another step was the realization that the other people cheering me on were in as much pain as I was. Finally, I was in so much pain that I got in one of the sweep vans at the third pit stop (8.27 miles) and rode in to lunch. I stopped at the medical tent and they advised me not to continue walking. By that point, at least a hundred people had to quit for various reasons, blisters being a common one. We waited at the holding area at Zuma Beach and cheered on other walkers as they arrived. Finally everyone was in and we lined up for the Victory Walk. Standing around waiting was terrible as it was hot and I was really afraid I would faint until I was able to get some Powerade. The actual walk in was painful but exciting and I didn't even really mind the trudge through the sand. The closing ceremonies were moving, but I was still grateful to get my gear and get on the bus back to West L.A..

I'll write more about the event in more detail (with less whining about how much my feet hurt) but for now I need a shower and my bed.