The first time I did The 3 Day was in 2005, and I'd decided to go to Boston to do the walk with friends. Explore sixty miles of a new city and make phenomenal strides towards finding a cure for cancer at the same time sounded like a win-win situation for me.

Everyone I'd talked to prior to doing the walk had told me of the emotional roller coaster The 3 Day was, and I just let it go in one ear and out the other. Once they started Opening Ceremonies at 5:30 in the morning with a little boy talking about how he was volunteering because his grandma was at home with cancer, and the waterworks started right up. And the walk hadn't even begun.

Leaving Opening Ceremonies, friends and family line up to wish you well. They clap and cheer and make walkers feel like rock-stars, which is the same way we'd feel the entire time we were there. People for the entire three days were more supportive than words can describe.

Kids and parents dressed in their pajamas would be standing in their front lawn handing out candy at 7:30 in the morning; people had lawn chairs gathered at intersections along the walking route just to thank us for walking. They don't tell you about this when you register for the walk, because how can someone honestly believe that random strangers will be one of your biggest forces along the way? But it's true - very true.

The route in Boston began in New Hampshire and took us through the country-type-side of Massachusetts, before we finally arrived at the campus of MIT on the last day.

Day 1 began in the rain. And ended in the rain. Instead of having us pitch our tents outside, they broke us all up into gyms. We were sleeping indoors, lined up in rows of sleeping bags, to avoid getting soaked overnight. Not the most comfortable plan in the world, but it probably worked out better than having us all soaking wet and cranky the next morning. That night at dinner, we were wrapped in mylar blankets just to try to keep some body heat trapped.

On the 2nd day, we woke up to more rain, but it didn't stop us from throwing on the ponchos and heading out for the day. The skies eventually cleared up and we even walked along the Minuteman Trail. We didn't get much of a weather reprieve, though, as dark clouds started heading our way once we were back at camp for dinner. Suzanne, Bonnie, and I had barely gotten our tents up when we noticed everyone was running to the high school 500 yards away. Turns out there was some lightening getting pretty close, but we never made it there before they sent everyone back. We stood in line for dinner and passed out in our tents shortly after that. Other than a few tents that had been blown into the surrounding trees, everything was quiet for the rest of the night.

When people wake up on Day 3, there's a different energy. Everyone's made it that far and now they're ready to finish. Nothing can keep people from dawdling on the third day, because we all just want to get that 60th mile complete. The route had finally entered Boston, and we were able to walk a great part of the day along the Charles River, with the Boston skyline just on the other side. The sun eventually came out stronger than ever, and it was so hot people were laying on mounds of ice. At each pit-stop, I'd load up my Twins hat with as much ice as I could without freezing my head off and keep on walking.

Finishing the walk is the best. All of the walkers that have finished before you could be sitting down and resting their blistered and aching feet, but instead, they're lined up on both sides of an aisle they've formed themselves, cheering and clapping and encouraging you just a few more feet. It's an amazing experience and if nothing else makes you want to do the walk again, crossing the finish line will.

I made a few phone calls after the walk and could barely get out "I did it" before crying. It wasn't just a walk or some charity event that I did. It was something that had permanently changed my life, and something that had quite possibly permanently changed the lives of so many women and families that are effected by breast cancer on a daily basis. How could I not sign up to do it again in 2006?

Now that we're back in the swing of the 3day, and at least 60% of daily mental energy and conversation is devoted to fundraiser planning, it has occurred to me that I have always intended to write more about it, beyond just constantly urging you to attend our fundraisers. I always recap it right after I return, and at that point I'm too overwhelmed by the whole experience to really describe it.

My parents keep complaining about the walking. They think it's cruel to make us walk 60 miles, after we've put a whole year's work into fundraising for it. The fact we raised $26,000 last year should be enough; why have to walk? Why risk injury? Look what happened to Jane! And Bonnie! And Wendy! Well, you'll notice that Jane and Wendy are back on the team again this year. Bonnie would be, too, were it not for a schedule conflict. So why do we walk, exactly?

I've said it before, and I mean it: the 3day is probably the hardest thing you'll ever do. There's some aspect of the event that intimidates everyone. You have to ask your friends and family for a lot of money. You have to commit to hours and hours of training over the course of several months. You have to buy expensive gear. You have to take time off work for the event. And, oh yeah, you have to walk sixty miles in three days, sleep in a tent for two nights, shower in a semi truck, and use port-a-potties so often it actually stops bothering you to do so.

You'll probably get blisters, leg cramps, and sunburn. You'll ache in places you never knew existed. You'll wake up in the morning and feel like you've aged ten years. If you're like me, you'll get to mile 38 or so, and you will curse your life, your friends who will be sleeping in their comfy beds that night, and your decision to do this again. You'll want to sit down and never get back up. It's hard to remember, in the midst of the soreness and the exhaustion, exactly why you're there. And yet stopping is incomprehensible.

Right about now, you're probably wondering why anyone would consider signing up for the 3day, and maybe even thinking we're a little crazy for doing this every year.

I believe that there will be a cure for cancer in my lifetime. Not just breast cancer, but all cancer. I believe that our efforts with the 3day will help find that cure. I believe that there will come a point where I will not find myself standing behind a table at another fundraiser somewhere, being approached by a woman with tears in her eyes, who wants to thank me for walking. Because her mother died of breast cancer, her sister is an eight-year survivor, her best friend just started chemo. Every single story is heartbreaking; not just because of the tragedy, but because we can't do more. We can't stop people from suffering right now. We can't help the people we love who already have breast cancer. All we can do is keep walking.

If you don't have a friend or family member with breast cancer right now, consider yourself lucky. At some point, you will. You can sit around and wait for that to happen, or you can do something about it. Register for the 3day. Support our team, or support someone else. Volunteer your time. Attend fundraisers. Spread the word. Every bit of effort helps.

If you don't think that you have the strength or courage or commitment to do the 3day, by the time you cross the finish line, you will. After that, everything else will seem easy.

[originally posted on my blog]