Riding The 3 Day High And Taking A Coma

I apologize for not being on here for the last couple of days but to be honest I was either doing one of two things…riding the 3 Day high or taking a coma.  And no neither one of those things involved exercising.  I was too dang tired to be honest.  In fact, right now, I feel as if I could fall asleep right here at the keyboard.  But, I will prop my eyelids open and tell you all about my weekend because that is really why I am here.  So I might tug on your heart-strings today but hey…a little crying never hurt anyone.  Suck it up and read on, dear readers!

The Susan G. Komen 3 Day Walk For The Cure was this weekend and I spent it being on the food services crew…what an AMAZING group of people I met and became fast friends with.  Nothing like sharing the close proximity of little pink tents and long hours with no sleep to make you fast friends.  We all know how much of a girly girl I am and how much I DETEST camping but for the sake of the event I bucked it up and did it.  Eh gads, making my bag at the 35 pound weight limit was my first challenge.  Really?  35 pounds?  That is the weight of my carry on when I fly….pretty sure.  Ugh.  Ok so I packed light and made sure my air mattress and other sleeping gear fit into my bag.  Thank goodness for a rolling duffel bag.  And I was not gonna give up my air mattress.  It was the least I could do to be comfortable after being uncomfortable last year.  Did I mention I HATE camping?  This fat girl and air mattresses do not have the best reputation.  I was pretty sure I was either gonna roll off of it or it would flip me off like I had happen before and there you would see the fat girl flying in the air over all the other sea of pink tents.  Wouldn’t that be a sight?  Me, flailing through the air and hoping to not land on some skinny little power walker with her Starbucks in her hand and her full makeup on.  No joke.   I managed to get through the weekend without having the experience of either.  Whew!  Although I did almost fall off of the air mattress getting out of the tent in the middle of the night to pee cuz I was in such a hurry to go to the porta potties.  Yeah.  Porta potties.  Lets so not go there or we might have to discuss my new syndrome I am sure I have come down with.  I call it PPPP (Porta Potty Pooping Phobia)…do you really want me to go there?   Didn’t think so.  Let’s just say I was miserable on that front and never so glad to see my own potty and leave it at that.  But I really did have an amazing experience as a crew member and am already planning on doing it again next year.  I could walk again but let’s be honest….I think the knee would have something to say about that.  I could crew Medical but that requires touching people’s feet….ew.  So I am thinking that food services is where it is at.  What a crazy and loveable group of people to work with….being crazy myself really helps.  It made me come out of my fat girl introverted self and have to talk to people.  I couldn’t hide behind all of my outgoing friends and pretend to not be there.  I had to interact with people, which is good for me.  Although, there was the camping factor….did I forget to tell you how much I DISLIKE camping?  Pretty sure I haven’t.  We were up at 0330 to 0400 to get ready to serve breakfast.  The night shifter inside of me screamed at me to just stay awake but luckily I was so tired by the time 9pm came around that I fell asleep in the little cozy pink tent.  Except for the night it rained.  Wow did that suck beyond the telling of it.  Ever hear the sound of rain on nylon?  It is stinking loud.  Plus, if you have to pee, like I did, it is then as torturous as holding a cookie just outside a fat kids reach.  That is a fun game.  You should try it.  It was worth the long hours and enduring the rain to be there to make the walkers experience the best they could have while walking 60 miles.  Yes, you read that right.  60 miles.  Pretty intense.  Even though I am sooooo not a morning person, there I was trying to be cheerful (although one of my co-workers can attest to me giving her the finger at several points during the early am hours) to encourage these people giving there all out there for three days.  It was the least I could do to give back to all those who helped this fat girl make her 60 mile journey last year.  This is where I discovered the need for longer shorts, remember, to avoid the Chub Rub situation.  But I did discover that sleeping bags really are not made for fat girls.  I got all situated in my sleeping bag, complete with my extra blanket and flannel jammies and attempted to roll over.  I felt like I was stuck to one of those human velcro walls.  I kept trying to turn over, but the whole sleeping bag was stuck to me, trying to choke me or suffocate me and causing my underwear to be the kind I don’t wear.  That much fabric really should not go up your butt crack.  Just saying.  It was really quite the feat to try to turn over without feeling like I was rolling myself up like a spring roll from Panda Express.  I will just say again that I ABHOR camping.  Oh the things we do for a cause we believe in.  And I really do apologize to any of my fellow crew members who were around me and had to deal with my snoring.  Contrary to popular belief, that was not a bear roaming through camp but rather a fat girl taking a coma and trying to breathe around her beauty pageant waving chin fat.

And why do I do this?  I do it for the woman who crossed the finish line sobbing because she is stage 4 breast cancer with mets to her ribs and sternum and she knows she won’t be here next year to walk.  I do this for the 4 survivors on my crew, including my captain, who at closing ceremonies we circled and saluted them with our one shoe because without the advances in breast cancer research I would not have had the wonderful experience of getting to know them and call them my friends.  I do this for my Aunt, who this year is 6 years cancer free.  I do this for my BFF, who had a scare last year with a lump while I was training for the walk because the thought of going through life without her is terrifying.  Who else would put up with my fat girl shit?  These are the reasons I do this and will continue to do this every year.  I highly encourage anyone out there to get involved with a 3 day.  Lets all one day have a world without breast cancer.  Wouldn’t that be grand?  Watch this video but be aware that as you watch it, 5 women across the world will lose their battle with breast cancer.  One woman every 69 seconds.  One woman in eight will be diagnosed.

Oh yeah.  I didn’t die this weekend.  Even though my sleeping bag might have been following orders from SOTL man to choke me, I didn’t die so escaped the fat suit one more day.  I am fat girl who invited and let people into my heart this weekend and am a better person for it running.  The experiment continues……

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