I’m very excited to be partnering with the good folks over at Puritan’s Pride in accepting their One Small Change challenge: to make one very personal (yet simple) change toward healthier living and then committing myself to remain accountable by posting my progress in a three-part blog series, throughout the month.
In my first post (Step #1 – The Brain Dump), I started by cleaning out the most cluttered area in the house, my head. In my second post (Step #2 – Permission To Take a Break), I recorded a couple of break-reminders and set them as notifications, throughout the day.
Finishing up this blog series, I was really hoping to share with you some awesome progress in meeting my goals of walking every day and to make time to do things that quiet the mind…but, I can’t…not exactly, anyway.
Disclosure: with many thanks to the American Cancer Society for sponsoring and compensating my writing about ways in which we can help give cancer the virtual bitchslap it deserves!
I love this picture of my twin brother and me: it was our birthday (yesterday!) and this is where I would joke about our age, insisting that we were actually celebrating another anniversary of our 29th birthday.
I’ve never been very comfortable with numbers, most especially when used as the “only” tool in defining a person’s worth, but today I am putting all thoughts of vanity aside and outing myself:
You like? I made this life list, myself, with many thanks to the American Cancer Society for sponsoring and compensating my writing about ways in which we can help give cancer the virtual bitchslap it deserves!
The American Cancer Society is celebrating their 100th birthday this month (5/22/13) and, in honor of the many brave battles being fought (and/or lost) by way too many of my family and friends, I have the extreme privilege of partnering with the ACS in helping to amplify their most recent effort in helping us to celebrate MORE of life’s special moments, like:
When my sister-in-law asked me if I would walk with her at the Making Strides Against Breast Cancer event in Point Pleasant Beach, two thoughts immediately came to mind:
Yes.
Of course.
I’ve been taking my kids to Jenkinson’s boardwalk since they were babies and, more importantly, with my sister-in-law’s recent scare and my twin brother facing yet another surgery (next week) I am always up for the chance to kick cancer’s ass…anywhere…b*tch…ANYTIME!…Jersey style.
While the rest of my family was all…like…ummmm…that’s really, really great…but…uhhhh…you do realize that…you know…walking will be involved.
3.1 miles to be exact and, although a lot of folks I know run a 5k before breakfast, it seems my borked-up back has compromised my already less than graceful walking skills.
Tripping over air is one thing (which I am very good at, btw), gravity getting all stabby once my foot hits the ground the wrong way can be real gosh-darned inconvenient.
Then again, I have seen way too many of my family and friends suffer through the bitch that is cancer. Judging by the awesome turnout, who showed on perhaps the most beautiful Sunday in the record of Sundays in October, we were ALL looking to kick some cancer-ass.
On this particular day, everyone’s signature color was pink and it was SO difficult for me to NOT stare at that dude up there (although, dude, think of it as my admiring your awesomeness) or not wonder about the story, behind the beard.
The t-shirts, that was another story, multiplied by the thousands: pictures of loved ones captioned with declarations of eternal remembrance and hundreds upon hundreds of teams, helping to raise money for the cause, rallying on for those who continue to fight, made this for a truly bittersweet experience.
We continued to walk, mostly in silence, sometimes talking all at once, as I pointed out our favorite spots on the beach or the stands where the kids and I first discovered fried Oreos and zeppoles.
Around mile 2 a beautiful monarch butterfly appeared to follow along with the crowd, dipping and weaving gracefully over a sea of pink, now stretching out in front of us for as far as our eyes could see.
My sister-in-law and I turned to each other, smiled and agreed: it was most probably someone’s loved one, rooting them on.
My cell phone did not make it to mile 3 (damnit!) BUT I DID!!! Considering I had 17,000 of my fellow-Jerseyites to lean on, how could I not?!?
This morning, I received a text message from my sister-in-law: co-worker walked w/team yesterday in honor of her friend’s mom who died from breast cancer. Symbol for the mom is a butterfly.
I bitch about the weather — more specifically, how some folks STILL haven't shoveled their sidewalks, 2 weeks and 2 snowstorms post Snowmaggedon '10 — or, how my kids insist on getting sick, 3 days apart, instead of ALL at once, since Christmas Day.
Because, I can and better out than in, right?
Then, someone I care about, or has impacted my life in some positive way, experiences some serious suckage and, well, DAMMIT!
I'm talking the sort of suckage that leeches its way under your skin, squeezes your heart, melts all the soft squishy parts, rips through your soul and leaves an unidentifiable pile of sludge, in its wake, before the day even begins and, well, these first world problems of mine begin to sound small and a bit whiny, actually.
Comparatively speaking, my life becomes gooder than good.
Kristen's words inspired me to donate a little ad money I had sitting in Paypal (thanks, Momma!) and I hope that this little post of mine will encourage others to take action in the fight against the BITCH! that is cancer, too.
Why?
Because, nice matters, cancer sucks big, fat, hairy donkey balls and women, like my friend Susan, should NOT have to answer, "But, why mommy?" ever again, DAMMIT!!!
The American
Cancer Society is working tirelessly to eradicate cancer and to ease
the burden of those living with cancer. With your support, the American
Cancer Society is saving lives by helping people get well and stay
well, funding lifesaving research, and empowering people to fight back
against cancer.
Thank you again for your support.
Elizabeth T. H. Fontham, MPH, DrPH
President, American Cancer Society, Inc.
Dear Liz,