Training

I officially started training a week ago, on a snowy Toledo morning. On my way in to the YMCA, I was...less than excited...about the prospect of 3 monotonous miles on Ye Olde Treadmill. Nevertheless, I reminded myself that I made a commitment, and I need to stick with it. How can I expect people I know to donate time, money, goods, and resources to my cause if I'm not willing to put the work in myself? So...off I went.I hopped on the first available treadmill, and ignoring the sounds of my best friends pumping weights in the free weight center across the room, I settled in for the walk. 3 endless, slow miles stretched in front of me.

I may have started to panic just a little bit.

For posterity, I asked a friend to snap some pictures of me on the machine. Day 1, 3 miles!
After a while, the boredom became overwhelming, and I shot up the speed on the treadmill and jogged the second mile. Afterward, my joints and my feet were sore for days, an event I haven't repeated since then for fear of repeating the same pain.
Finally, finally, finally 42 minutes later I was done with my first 3 mile walk. Sweaty, tired, and triumphant.
As I walked through my first mile, I was struck again by what a journey this event is going to be. I imagined the event...walking through streets lined with pink, with survivors and family members on all sides, cheering and supporting us. I teared us as I imagined the emotion of the moment, the emotion I was feeling just training.

This walk is going to be a journey, people. I added up the miles I'll be walking including 24 weeks of training and the event: the number came out to a staggering 645.

Every step I walk in the next 23 weeks is a step toward a world where NOBODY has to deal with the effects of this disease, and I am HONORED to be a part of it.

Please consider donating to my fundraising minimum here.