for those who are walking or working this weekend
and for those of you that are not. perhaps reading this might inspire you to join me on the philly pit stop 1 team or as a walker on the walk, sign up for the avon walk in dc next year, or something similar. I sent this to my team earlier today - It's part of a video that was shown to walkers, years ago. It is one of the things that reminds me, in words that I am not eloquent enough to formulate, why I do this.
You told us you were impatient with the fight against cancer.
That you wanted to win it -
not toy with it, like a cat with its mouse.
You didn’t want talk.
You wanted walk.
So we’re giving you walk.
A lot of walk.
Some of you may be a little nervous - a little scared.
That’s OK.
It’s totally normal.
Some of you may be trying to deny that you’re a little scared or a little nervous.
That’s OK.
That’s totally normal, too.
The walk is demanding in almost every way.
It has to be.
First we take away your blow dryer,
then your house,
your car...
If it were easy, it wouldn’t have as much meaning.
And impact.
There may be moments when you want to quit.
In fact, there may be many such moments.
When you see your tent for the first time and decide that maybe the camping thing wasn’t such a good idea.
When you see your tentmate for the first time and...well...
When your feet start to hurt.
You may have moments of doubt, like why didn’t you just write out a check and send it to the nearest breast cancer charity?
But then you’ll see the sweat on the brow of the person next to you.
The woman who just had her last treatment.
The woman who less than a year ago wasn’t given much of a chance to be alive today.
You’ll see the mother and daughter walking together, after many years apart, reunited for this cause by a grandmother’s illness.
And subsequent death from breast cancer.
You'll start to notice the life, and not the death, in the air.
The optimism that grows stronger with every step.
And you’ll know why you’re here.
So the world can witness the power of a dedicated group of individuals committed to changing the course of the future.
You will be part of a monument to kindness.
A moving monument to love, that extends all the way to those you don’t even know.
It will be beautiful, if you let it.
It only seems natural that we have a few ground rules as we gather on this common ground.
Are you ready?
Here’s rule number one.
No whining.
You can feel like whining, but don’t.
Here’s rule number two.
No whining.
It’s a lot like rule number one, we know, but even more like rule number three.
Which is...
No whining.
Why? you ask.
Recent scientific evidence suggests whining causes blisters.
So you got it?
No whining.
Only winning.
We have a battle and a war from which we are all demanding victory.
The foe is too powerful for us, in the next two days, to present anything but our best selves.
Let us be, at least until Sunday afternoon arrives, the kind of people we always imagined we could be.
How?
Try fixing up a nice dinner plate at camp, and bring it out to a total stranger who’s getting in late.
It would surprise her in the opposite way that people are used to being surprised.
Make it a point to be at the camp entry arch at night, cheering on walkers who are still getting in, until the last walker has arrived.
Maybe you could set up a tent for a new friend, and leave her a note saying you hope she’s having a great day. (Or he!)
Take pleasure in the joy you put on the faces of others.
Over the next few days,see if you can feel the simple but awesome power of kindness.
In the end, it’s not government that will change the future.
And relegate breast cancer to the attics of our memory.
It's kindness that will change the world.
So now that you’ve got our subtle point about whining -
try this last little rallying cry on for size.
It helps us remember why we’re here.
We hope it’ll help you.
HUMANKIND
Be both.
You told us you were impatient with the fight against cancer.
That you wanted to win it -
not toy with it, like a cat with its mouse.
You didn’t want talk.
You wanted walk.
So we’re giving you walk.
A lot of walk.
Some of you may be a little nervous - a little scared.
That’s OK.
It’s totally normal.
Some of you may be trying to deny that you’re a little scared or a little nervous.
That’s OK.
That’s totally normal, too.
The walk is demanding in almost every way.
It has to be.
First we take away your blow dryer,
then your house,
your car...
If it were easy, it wouldn’t have as much meaning.
And impact.
There may be moments when you want to quit.
In fact, there may be many such moments.
When you see your tent for the first time and decide that maybe the camping thing wasn’t such a good idea.
When you see your tentmate for the first time and...well...
When your feet start to hurt.
You may have moments of doubt, like why didn’t you just write out a check and send it to the nearest breast cancer charity?
But then you’ll see the sweat on the brow of the person next to you.
The woman who just had her last treatment.
The woman who less than a year ago wasn’t given much of a chance to be alive today.
You’ll see the mother and daughter walking together, after many years apart, reunited for this cause by a grandmother’s illness.
And subsequent death from breast cancer.
You'll start to notice the life, and not the death, in the air.
The optimism that grows stronger with every step.
And you’ll know why you’re here.
So the world can witness the power of a dedicated group of individuals committed to changing the course of the future.
You will be part of a monument to kindness.
A moving monument to love, that extends all the way to those you don’t even know.
It will be beautiful, if you let it.
It only seems natural that we have a few ground rules as we gather on this common ground.
Are you ready?
Here’s rule number one.
No whining.
You can feel like whining, but don’t.
Here’s rule number two.
No whining.
It’s a lot like rule number one, we know, but even more like rule number three.
Which is...
No whining.
Why? you ask.
Recent scientific evidence suggests whining causes blisters.
So you got it?
No whining.
Only winning.
We have a battle and a war from which we are all demanding victory.
The foe is too powerful for us, in the next two days, to present anything but our best selves.
Let us be, at least until Sunday afternoon arrives, the kind of people we always imagined we could be.
How?
Try fixing up a nice dinner plate at camp, and bring it out to a total stranger who’s getting in late.
It would surprise her in the opposite way that people are used to being surprised.
Make it a point to be at the camp entry arch at night, cheering on walkers who are still getting in, until the last walker has arrived.
Maybe you could set up a tent for a new friend, and leave her a note saying you hope she’s having a great day. (Or he!)
Take pleasure in the joy you put on the faces of others.
Over the next few days,see if you can feel the simple but awesome power of kindness.
In the end, it’s not government that will change the future.
And relegate breast cancer to the attics of our memory.
It's kindness that will change the world.
So now that you’ve got our subtle point about whining -
try this last little rallying cry on for size.
It helps us remember why we’re here.
We hope it’ll help you.
HUMANKIND
Be both.