What’s that saying about going to the well once too often? Flashback one year ago. Mohawk invited me to Denver to walk alongside the team with my friend Bruce Odette and regional vice president Mike Domarumo for the Susan G. Komen 3-Day. This is when people walk 60 miles over three days in support of the fight against breast cancer and those who have either been afflicted or lost someone to this horrible disease. People of all ages (one man I saw was 80-plus years old) walk 20 miles for three consecutive days. I attended the event one year prior as a spectator and was blown away by the solidarity and lasting relationships that have been forged through these events. It’s quite impactful to say the least. (I hear the same from those who have supported Shaw and the St. Jude 5K or 10K.)
Everyone seems to know someone who has battled breast cancer. Friends. Relatives. Co-workers. Me? Many years ago I had a wonderful therapist who lost her life to breast cancer. She was diagnosed with an aggressive form of cancer and passed within two years. She wasn’t even 35. Then, my buddy’s wife was diagnosed a few years ago but thankfully it was caught early enough. She was one of the lucky ones.
Anyway, my friends on the Mohawk marketing team suggested I walk last year. I agreed to walk with the caveat I’d only do one day. Fun facts: I’m about 10-15 pounds overweight; the only cardio I’d done was walk Surfaces for three days; and the Komen 3-Day they selected for me was Denver—the Mile High City where breathing doesn’t come easy. I guess San Diego would have been too easy.
I trained for it. Well, sort of. I walked five miles on the boardwalk in Ocean City, N.J., before 10 a.m. with a comforting breeze off the Atlantic. Then a couple weeks later I walked eight miles under the same conditions. Then I walked 10 miles through the streets of New York City, working my way down Fifth Avenue, eventually finding myself traversing the Brooklyn Bridge. I also prepped by buying three pair of sneakers (Brooks, Sauconys, Hokas) to determine what worked best. Final prep was depleting my Prednisone stash.
It would prove to be a winning combination. We completed the 20 miles in about six and a half hours—actually, it was 21 miles because we took a wrong turn at Albuquerque (obscure Bugs Bunny reference). We didn’t even take the customary hour break for lunch. Bruce Odette and I looked at each other after a 10-minute respite at the halfway checkpoint and decided rest time was over. Mind you, he’s in a lot better shape than me. He walks his dog each morning farther than I walk in a week. We also had Mohawk’s marketing specialist Landon Lambert with us, a 20-something female only a few years removed from playing Division 1 soccer at UGA. She proved to be a great prompt (like one of those lures at the greyhound races) as she was striding out over the last five miles like a gazelle. Odette was keeping up. Yours truly? Not so much.
So, given the overwhelming success of last year’s walk (success defined as not dying or spending a night in the hospital) I have signed on to do this Komen 3-Day, which in my world is a 1-Day. But just like any video game, the next round gets harder. Unlike last year, when the walk was held under perfect conditions on Sept. 27, this year the event will be held on…. wait for it…. Aug. 1. In the dead of summer. (Poor choice of words, I know.) I decided to do a little research on the temperature history in Denver on Aug. 1. Going backwards from last year: 99, 89, 98, 82, 91. There has been less than an inch of precipitation on this date combined dating back to 2011.
I have already walked five miles and eight miles in preparation, the latter in Portland, Ore., which included a mile uphill to the Rose Garden followed by bubbles and jello shots. Thanks, Jessica.
So why is someone who is overweight, out of shape and a late-in-life asthma sufferer doing this? It’s pretty simple. I see how people suffer with breast cancer. I see how people who have lost a loved one to breast cancer suffer. I wanted to do something in support of all those people. The suffering I will experience from my exhaustion (assuming I survive) pales in comparison to what they go through.
By talking about this undertaking I raise some awareness, whether to all of you out in Flooringland or to my friends and family. Maybe we will do an Instagram Live or Facebook Live or whatever they call it every few miles for awareness. Or to let you all know I am still alive. I’ll walk, I’ll talk, maybe I’ll stop here and there for some electrolyte-filled water or a Titos and soda. I’m not putting myself on a clock. I’ll finish when I finish. To prove a point. And that point is there are only three sure things in life: death, taxes and damn it if I take one step I will take 20 miles of steps. Bet on it.
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