50 miles (and as many blisters) later
8 Jul, 2007 By: Laylah VanBibber LM Direct!Rumbling thunder greets me as I groan and roll out of bed to the rhythm of driving rain. It’s 4 a.m. and my bags
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are packed. No, I remind myself, I’m not getting up for an early flight to a trade show or business meeting. My daughter, Dana Terry, is picking me up in 45 minutes. It’s June 1, the first day of the 3-day, 50-Mile MS Challenge Walk in Kansas City. Today we walk the first 20 miles — and the cold rain is pouring down.
Again, I ask myself, why am I doing this? While I’ve asked myself this several times these past few weeks, I know exactly why, and I’m committed to it.
For two months I had been training, walking 10 to 12 miles every Saturday morning (well, almost every Saturday morning) plus shorter walks during the week. But was I really up to 50 miles?
When my daughter Dana asked me to walk the 50-Mile challenge with her, my first response was ‘are you kidding?’ 50 miles? I’m 57, overweight and have had open-heart surgery. But Dana and I both know people who have MS so I didn’t dismiss the idea. I thought about Carolyn, a co-worker with MS. She was robust and full of
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vitality when I met her about 15 years ago. While she remains a vibrant capable person, she now walks with a cane. She doesn’t complain and she never seeks special considerations. And I knew that if she was able to make this 50-mile walk, a walk to raise money for research and aid to other people with MS, she would do it.
As I turned the idea of the walk over in my mind, I seemed to me that the real challenge wasn’t about me walking. The real challenge is the one facing the more than 400,000 people in the United States with multiple sclerosis and their families. The disease is a tricky crippler whose symptoms differ from person to person.
But before I said “yes” to the walk, I wanted to talk to my cardiologist. It turned out he was encouraging. He said if I trained, I could do it. There was no reason why I should not do it. So I began to train.
Next came another challenge, seeking financial support from co-workers, Green Industry friends and other acquaintances. The purpose of the walk was to raise money for MS research, of course, so I sent e-mails and tried to raise the minimum $1,500 in sponsorships to be able to participate. When the money started coming in, I knew there was no turning back. No begging off. No excuses. I’d have to do it. Realizing that, I trained even harder.
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One of the hardest parts about training for an event like this is finding time for the training. I had to give up many of my usual spring activities. My grandchildren felt abandoned. My yard became much more ‘natural’ than my neighbors (or any self-respecting turf industry member) would like. But Blue Trace Trail in Independence is a beautiful 11-mile bicycle trail that follows the course of the Little Blue River.
Actually, I began to look forward to my early Saturday morning trail walks and seeing the deer, herons, hawks, geese and tiny bright blue birds I identified as indigo buntings. During the week, I did 3-mile training walks in my neighborhood, which provided several challenging hills.
My training suffered a small setback in April when heavy rains washed out Blue Trace Trail. Friendly Tim Nielson, superintendent at Drumm Farm Golf Club in Independence, came to the rescue. He offered the cart trail as a training option until the river receded. That was a challenge in itself. I don’t
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think there are any level surfaces at Drumm Farm. At least my feet don’t remember any. That night my toenails turned black and I was feeling like the donations I was getting really weren’t quite big enough.
But PBI/Gordon co-workers and my friends in the Green Industry really came through on the donations. I topped my minimum with a total of $1,750. And Team OZ, the group I walked with, raised almost $39,000.
What is it like to walk 50 miles?
Blisters. Blistered toes and blistered heels. Feet that feel like they are on fire. Dreading the next step before you’ve finished the last step. Black toenails that fall off. Swollen feet and swollen hands. Aching back; aching knees and hips. Sunburn. Exhaustion. Headache. Overall, pretty miserable. But, who's complaining, right? Maybe it is something like what people with MS face everyday.
But all the physical things, the calf muscles that got hard as rocks and quit functioning and the numb legs and ankles, as it turned out, were a small price to pay for the experience. I particularly enjoyed the connection with other walkers. Then of course there is compassion. Laughter. Tears. Camaraderie. Joy. Gratitude. Courage. Determination.
Other walkers shared their stories with me and my other team members. Most had a parent, sibling or other relative
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struggling with the disease and practically all had someone in their lives who inspires them with the determination with which they face each new day. Some of the walkers and many of the volunteers have MS, including one of the nurses draining the blisters and supervising the foot care.
A 50-mile walk is a challenge — especially for somebody of my age and level of health. It’s a challenge emotionally and mentally as well as physically. Still, I felt blessed by the event. I’m physically stronger and more aware now.
Having multiple sclerosis means that you may suddenly have blurry vision. Or that your memory will fail you for no apparent reason. Or that you may not always be able to walk around the house, let alone for miles on end. The symptoms of MS are different, and devastating, for everyone; the only certainty is that it will affect yet another person every hour of every day.
At walk’s end it was our sincere hope that the small challenges (compared to MS sufferers) that us walkers had met would, even in a small way, eventually help to finding a cure for the disease.
Thanks to all of you — my co-workers and the many generous people in the Green Industry — for contributing to the MS cause. Your generosity is making a difference.
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