Why I'm Walking

Barmy adj.
1. marked by spirited enjoyment
2. eccentric; daft

It's hard for me to believe that a decade has passed since my family lost the gentlest member of our lot, Carlyn. She lost her recurring battle with breast cancer in 1997 at the age of 37. In kin terms, Carlyn was my aunt, although she was just two years older than me (that's us in the pool at the top of this page). Her death was a rude introduction to this disease; I had my first mammogram done that fall, at 35. Since 1997, my screenings have become increasingly difficult to read given the nature of my anatomy and physiology (multiple kinds of annual screenings and weeks of waiting for definitive results). Since 1997, too many other people I know have been affected by breast cancer. I wish none of them had endured this horrible disease, but happily they are survivors.*

In light of this experience with cancer, I decided several weeks ago to walk the Komen Breast Cancer 3-Day (November 2-4, Phoenix) to raise awareness about early detection and to personally raise $3000+ to help a fabulous organization support essential research for a cure and improve services for those affected by the disease. Over the 3 day, 60 mile course, I will spend time remembering Carlyn. Remembering some of the daft things we did: our infamous room painting episode; stalking the lead high school stage band trumpet player in Ocean Grove; taking three little kids hiking in the Shenandoah's; seeing Graham Parker at the Stone Pony (ok, not so daft); other barmy escapades that will come to me later. I'll spend time thinking about the survivors I know; remembering that if they can beat cancer, I can easily survive 60 miles with the support of a few thousand other people who really believe individuals can make a difference.

*More about the survivors I know when I get their okay to write about them.