Packing List for the 3-Day Walk

 Packing List: What to Bring on the Three-Day Walk

1. lots of chutzpah
2. the well wishes and support of my community
3. 1 sleeping bag
4. 1 sleeping pad
5. courage
6. a flag or other identifying marker so my pink tent stands out from 1000 others (still don’t know what that flag could be!)
7. 6 cotton kerchiefs, two per day….one to wipe sweat, the other to wipe snot

The Real Cost of Walking

 I heard this commentary on the radio the other day when I was driving to pick up an 8’ by 10’ print for Lizzy at Bay Photo Lab. In my current training mode, I related to it totally, and thought it was worth sharing here on my blog. So here’s what commentator and economist Justin Wolfers had to say about his running hobby. He’s analyzed the costs of running and, for him, it makes complete economic sense.

I’m not just an economist; I'm also a runner, training for the Marine Corps Marathon. Runners World magazine recently argued that marathon running is an incredibly cheap sport. All you need is a pair of shoes, and you're off and running. But they're wrong. You see, they were emphasizing the out-of-pocket cost, which is small.

But the foundation of all economics is something called opportunity cost. It says that the true cost of something is the alternative you have to give up. So each hour that I spend running is an hour that I don't spend hanging out, working, or sleeping.

The Real Chemobrain

This article by Dan Barry was published in the New York Times the other day and I thought it was wonderful, worth passing on to those of you interested in human nature as well as the effects of serious illness and chemotherapy.

My Brain on Chemo: Alive and Alert

Within the chemotherapy alumni corps there exists a mutual respect not unlike the bond shared by veterans of war. Sometimes that respect is silently conveyed; not everyone wants to talk about it. And sometimes it is shared in the shorthand of the battle-hardened.

Where?

Esophagus.

Who?

Sloan-Kettering.

What kind?

Cisplatin, fluorouracil, Drano,

Borax ... .

Side effects?

The usual: nausea, vomiting, hair loss. And the toes are still numb.

Yeah.

At this point the two chemo alums may begin to sense a phantom metallic taste at the back of their throat, a taste sometimes prompted by the intravenous infusion of the corrosive chemicals intended to save their lives. A strong drink might be in order; maybe two.

The Place I Want to Get Back To

Right now, the place I want to get back to is health. I have a miserable cold, the nastiest I’ve had in years. Karyn had it first and now Eli and I are down for the count. There’s coughing, sneezing, excessive snot, a headache, runny eyes, and a burning pain in my nostrils. My awareness is completely rooted in how awful I feel. It has telescoped all else.

I’m struck by how such a simple thing—a cold—can cut me off from my sense of well-being, my sense of self, my connection to those around me, any sense of efficacy or purpose or identity. I am simply sick. And this is just a cold. It isn’t life-threatening. It isn’t chronic. It isn’t cancer. It’s just a run-of-the-mill back-to-school cold. Nothing compared to what I’ve been through in the past or what my friends with chronic, uncurable conditions live with on a daily basis.