A cause that is near and dear to my heart, the Making Strides Against Breast Cancer walk. I had always had in my mind on my “someday list” to take part in the Susan Komen 3-Day Walk. And I supposed if I really, really wanted to, I would have made it a priority and I would have signed up and I would have gone. However, life just doesn’t work that way. Mine doesn’t, anyway…

And there are times when the Universe just provides if you let it. Enter the Making Strides for Breast Cancer walk events. So convenient it’s ridiculous and literally no excuse in the world not to participate. One of my BFFs also just happens to lead a team every year. We are the Hakuna Ma Ta Tas. And honestly, we are the best team ever. Not even kidding. Or exaggerating. It’s the truth.

This event touches my heart for so many reasons. My mother’s mother, who I was incredibly close with (until we moved away to Florida) had breast cancer that ended up metastasizing, spreading throughout her entire body, and eventually taking her from us when I was 8 years old. She was only 53. The closer I get to that number myself (and it’s coming quick, friends), the more deeply it touches me. Every time I visit her gravestone it hits me as if that gravestone is coming out of the ground and hitting me over the head. That pain is what moved me to get my first, baseline mammogram at the young age of 35, earlier than routine screening is suggested. My PCP was in total support of it, and insurance covered it, given the family history. That first mammogram was the most nerve-wracking experience, but thankfully all clear. And so I went for another (shamefully admitting) 8 years before getting another. Well, I regret waiting so long. Don’t worry, this has a totally happy ending, so don’t give up on me just yet. They called me back for a second, more detailed, 3D mammography to be done, because they saw some things they weren’t entirely sure about. And we’re back to nerve-wracking. After the 3D was done, they called me back yet again. They saw some things that honestly looked like glitter speckles all over my left breast. They wanted to biopsy the area to be safe. I was a wreck. The doctor was incredibly informative and supportive, gave me her business card with her cell number written on it–then lovingly handed me off to the scheduler, who was also incredibly kind. They know what their business is and they know what they’re doing. My husband was away with our boys on a 4-wheeler trip, because it was February vacation week. I did not want to talk about it over the phone with him, so I kept it, other than sharing with my soul sisters and my girls at work. I stopped at the store on the way home, because 2 pints of Ben & Jerry’s seemed to be what was in order for dinner. And then I fretted and worried and fretted and worried some more. Made plans with 2 of my soul sisters for that weekend for dinner and a movie. We never made it to the movie, we stayed at the restaurant and talked and talked and talked. Never said word one of my impending biopsy. They were keeping my brain busy and filling my heart and soul up so high I couldn’t have fit any more in. For that, I will be eternally grateful to them. My husband and boys came back home and 2 days later was my appointment. I don’t know who was more of a wreck, me or my poor husband. The staff at DHMC were nothing short of spectacular. The nurse came out to get me when it was my time and she touched my husband’s arm and said “don’t you worry, we’re going to take really great care of her”, put her arm around my shoulders and brought me in. I don’t even know how long the procedure took, but I remember Norah Jones playing on the CD player and the doctor and nurse working methodically like a well-oiled machine, while also keeping in constant communication with me. My husband and I went home and slept for 3 1/2 hours. The boys got home from school and we pretended everything was fine. And everything was, in fact, fine. The glittery speckles are just that, glittery speckles and as benign as can be. I was scheduled for another 3D mammogram in 6 months and would continue to be in that cycle for another year. And thankfully, I remained in the clear. I’m now back to the regular old fashioned once a year–and I’ve never been more happy to be ordinary in my life. I know too many people who have gone through the battle–and although I would have taken it on with ever fiber of my being (yes, my head went there…), I am eternally grateful to never have had to.

But I digress. The Making Strides walk is something I prioritize. It is on my calendar as soon as the date is announced. Our team is wonderful and we have such a special day together–and most of these people I only see on this day. But we feel as close as if we were neighbors, co-workers or close friends. And some are my actual BFFs and it’s a great excuse to have time together.

It is about as uplifting as it gets. To witness the Survivors as they make their way to that stage always makes me cry. The speeches always make me cry. And then we all walk the 5 miles together and that sea of pink is the most inspiring sight you will ever see. Water stations and cheerleaders roughly every mile. It’s a beautiful day, regardless of the weather.

But it doesn’t end there. The walk takes place in October, Breast Cancer Awareness month. The past two years, at the beginning of December, I have received a telephone call from the American Cancer Society. The first time I got it, I thought, (cynically) of course, it’s the holidays, why wouldn’t they do a telephone fund raising campaign? Except that wasn’t it at all. They thanked me for contributing to the cause. They wanted me to know that every little bit helps and hopefully one day we won’t need it any more. And then they wanted me to know that the American Cancer Society is there to provide resources and support for anyone fighting cancer, or their families. And lastly, did I have, or did anyone I know have the need for such services or support? This took my breath away. So my responses have been the same (thankfully) for the past two years to this caller: “Thankfully, I do not. But I greatly appreciate the call, it is my pleasure to participate.” And then I wish them a very Merry Christmas and a happy New Year to come. It brings the whole thing that much nearer and dearer to my heart.

Now that I’ve got you all sobbing like babies, next October, when these announcements start popping up, please consider making a donation at the very least. But even better, go do the walk. You will leave feeling a warmth right down to your soul. You will leave feeling you don’t have a single problem in the world. And you will leave believing you can move mountains. And that, my friends, is a beautiful thing. How many things in your life can you say have that affect on you?

For more information, or to make a donation, please visit

https://www.cancer.org/involved/fundraise/making-strides-against-breast-cancer.html