Start of the Walk: A brisk New England autumn morning, which accounts for my Pilsbury Doughboy-like appearance. I ready for the 26.2 mile hike to Boston by standing beside the ever-jubilant director of the walkathon, Emily Swymer, owner of the east coast's warmest and most contagious smile. I walked in honor of Emily's sister Karen, as well as my friend Sherry, in memory of my friend Greg and wife Elaine, and for many other friends and family members. Emily surprised me by thanking me during her opening remarks to the walkers. Nine thousand walkers took part this year, raising $4.5 million for cancer research and services. My hat, by the way, has two feet sticking out of it and reads "Just a Few Feet More", my team's name. This year I stuck two little USA flags between the toes.
Mile 8: Saw a couple of swans in a lake off the side of the road. Too-too cool. (Get it? Swan Lake...never mind.)
Mile 13: My walk supporter since 1993 and co-walker since 1994, Chris Campbell. We stopped at the halfway point for a quick snack, a drink, and a porta-potty party.
Mile 16: With 10 miles to go, stopped to change my socks-
-and check my growing blisters. By mile 20, following the famed "Heartbreak Hill", my feet were a mess and a walk doc had to tend to them. Emily's sister was to be at the walk's finish however, and the prospect of meeting her kept me moving forward.
My hat has pictures of loved ones living with or lost to cancer. On my back is written the list of people I walk in honor and in memory of. Sadly, it gets longer every year. My dream is to someday throw the shirt away.
Mom Coyne is the walk's biggest cheerleader. She drives the unofficial pace car of the walk, decorated with banners of hope and inspiration.
Mom, with her dog and co-pilot Beau, standing at the finish.
Mile 26.2: Finally, I reach the finish. Usually I conquer the walk in just under seven hours but not having trained at all this year, it took nine. A pitiful accomplishment I'm pitifully proud of. Finally, I met Emily's sister Karen:
Karen's strength, and the light of life in her eyes as she battled her illness, made the entire 3026.2 mile journey magical, meaningful, and memorable. Karen's smile is the gift I took home from the 2001 walk. Sadly, Karen eventually lost her battle. Thank you Karen.