Tales from the Trail

A Letter from Katie after the Ottawa WEBC 2010

Hi Chad,

Ottawa 2010 was my 3rd year walking in the Weekend to End Women's Cancer. It gets harder and easier to do every year.

It gets harder every year because I get older. But I'm thankful to still have my good health so I can walk again next year. More importantly it gets harder because every new year brings new stories of loss from people who have lost their sister, their mother, their wife, their daughter, or their friend. Every year I see another team of people carrying someone's shoes - shoes from someone who couldn't walk themselves.

But it gets easier too. It's easier because I've been there, done that. The 60km I mean. So I know from experience to stretch and drink lots of fluids (minus the chocolate raspberry port) and sleep well. It gets easier because I continue to find inspiration that makes me keep walking when I might otherwise want to quit.

On my first year in 2008, the inspiration came from my sister-in-law, Genevieve. She walked with our team shortly after her second mastectomy. So when my muscles were protesting towards the end of the second day, my brother who is on the motorcycle crew told me that Genevieve was only about 4km ahead of me and waiting for me so we could cross the finish line together. I had Jonathan, the massage guy, stretch me out at one of the rest stops and I pushed through to the end to meet up with Genevieve so we could cross as a team. When I did reach her, I was a bit embarrassed about the tears I had shed for my own pain only 1/2 hour before.

In 2009, Genevieve was still there, walking with us so of course she continued to inspire. But I had other inspiration that year too. Michelle, a friend of mine, walked while she was 36 weeks pregnant. And of course you, pushing Bev's wheelchair who was there to give me a last encouraging hug at the last stop near the RCMP ride headquarters.

This year, our team walked for Linda Guay, who lost her battle with breast cancer on Valentine's Day 2010. We carried her shoes through the journey. But my inspiration again came from you, Chad. 5 little words said to me while relaxing in the Shopper's Drug Mart tent after the first day. I was whining about bumping my leg which was bruised, scraped and swollen after running into a rock during day 1. "What colour is your lanyard?", you joked - although only half joking I'm sure. But it stayed with me all of day 2. All through the rain and the pain. Every time I approached a hill, I looked at my feet and told myself, "my lanyard is blue". I must have said that to myself 100 times that wet day. And I'd look to Genevieve, the survivor who still is fortunate enough to be here to wear a pink lanyard and I'd be thankful for my blue lanyard and the ability to climb that hill or walk another step in the rain.

I will walk again next year and every year that I am able and hopefully, I will always be fortunate enough to say "my lanyard is blue". But in the meantime, I will continue to hope for more pink lanyards rather than shoes carried by people who have lost loved ones.

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