Could I fall off of this blog wagon any more than I am? Two months into 2011 & I've got 12 posts? Uch. Bad blogger. In my defense (read: I kind of expect you to believe I'm not just super lazy, which is only partly true), I've spent a lot of my time at the gym, when I'd otherwise be blogging and imbibing huge quantities of chai tea lattes. Aside from the fact that sweating it out at the gym (I swear I could smell chai coming from my pores during the first week) is better for me than grande after grande of chai-y goodness, and the fact that no matter how hard I squeeze my eyes shut and wish for it, being chubby is never going to be healthy or make me happy, I have a bigger purpose. I am training. To walk. A lot.
In September, I'll be participating in the Susan G. Komen 3-Day Walk for the Cure. I'm not training for the 3-day, 60-mile walk just to get in shape, although it is an added bonus and incentive. I'm participating because...well, I feel like I can't not participate. In the past couple of years, more friends, former co-workers, former classmates and friends of friends have been diagnosed with breast cancer. I feel like every time I turn around, someone has found a lump, or is starting chemo, or going in for a double mastectomy. Or has been told there is nothing left to be done.
I am at once so unbelievably grateful that, up to this point in my life, none of those people have been me, or my mother, or my best friend. But they've all been someone's daughter, wife and best friend. And they've all been people with busy, fulfilling lives--children, careers, passions, hobbies and beliefs. It is unfathomable for me to imagine how the world must stop spinning with a screech when the words "breast cancer" come out of a doctor's mouth. How the air and light must seem to be sucked out of the room to make space for the claustrophobia of the fear of all that is to come.
I had my first mammogram this month, after finding something that just felt "off" to me. Fortunately, it turned out to be nothing at all, and all I had to endure was the discomfort of my breast being squashed into a pancake in the mammogram machine. But for the few days leading up to the mammogram? My life flashed in front of me while I was driving to the grocery store, or watching TV at night. I had nightmares where the feeling of helplessness left me breathless both in my dream and when I awoke. I wondered how I would deal, would I find the strength to handle a diagnosis with strength and courage? How would I hold up in front of Husband and my sweet baby boy?
And because of that, and because I would walk a thousand miles to spare anyone I love that fear and pain, I am walking. My walking might raise awareness and remind my friends and family to not only get their yearly mammograms but to perform monthly self-tests. The money I raise will go to research that will hopefully help end breast cancer forever. I'd really appreciate your support in reaching my fundraising goal, if you are so inclined and able to help out.
My feet? Are going to be so pissed off at me. I'm pretty sure my legs will never forgive me. And my blog is sadly falling by the wayside, just as it did during NaNoWriMo, except this time I'm spending my free time in the gym instead of Starbucks (::sob::)
I'm working on finding a balance, but with Ethan in preschool only so many hours a week and walking 5 miles a day every day except Wednesday, it doesn't leave a whole lot of time for me to sit and reflect on how stinking cute my kid is, or how funny & sweet it is that every five minutes lately he has abruptly stopped whatever he's doing, demanding that I do the same, so he can say, "Mommy, I love you so so so so much." He's pretty awesome, people.
Speaking of the kid, Husband recently discovered something called a Strider bike, which is a child's bike without pedals. Its intention is to get kids comfortable riding without training wheels for balance so that they can move more easily to a big kid bike. It is fantastic and Ethan is all about floating along, his feet up in the air, balancing his body on the bike while coasting down ramps at the park or down the sidewalk in front of our house. I'm thinking the training wheels will be off the big boy bike by his 5th birthday....
Thanks for coming back to my blog! I promise to be here more often in the days and weeks to come!