Sleepless Nights

It's 2:30 and my eyes pop open. My mind starts working overtime. In my room I can hear nothing except the sound of two corgi in deep sleep and my husband's rhythmic breathing.



It isn't an unusual occurrence, this waking up in the middle of the night. It is becoming rather common. They say you should count sheep. What sheep? What could I count? The things I need to do tomorrow? Should I list the things I have didn't do yesterday? All of that just makes you more awake.



Back years ago, I had a technique that worked to put me back to sleep, but it has failed me lately. I would tell myself, "if I am not back to sleep in 30 minutes I will get up and make cinnamon rolls. That will take me a couple of hours." Then I would walk through each step in my mind.






First I will need to get out a bowl and warm it. Then I'll get out the yeast and proof it. Then the flour , sugar , butter, cinnamon....on and on and on. Eventually I would fall asleep. Only once did I actually get up and make the rolls. But then, there was always the real possibility I would actually do it and I think the whole idea made me tired. Today, I am not making cinnamon rolls...so I simply ignore the whole thought.





There have been nights when I imagine I am sitting on a boat in Neiafu Harbor in Vava'u Tonga. The sun is just coming up and lighting the sky in tones of garnet, amber and amethyst. I see the church on the bluff over the bay. The sounds of dozens of people singing floats across the water, surrounds me as it lifts to heaven. The boat gently rocks as rigging keeps time to the music. I feel the warmth of the early morning rays as they touch my face. There is a smell of frangipani in the air. This is my perfect moment and in that moment sometimes I can rest.



But tonight, I tried walking a training walk in my mind, from Sausalito, up the hill to the Golden Gate Bridge to San Francisco, all the way to the ferry and back. My imagination remembering the challenge of the steep climb and the feeling of the cold persistent fog. As I lay awake I remember how my muscles strain as the miles add up. How my body finds a way to sweat in 50 degrees. I think about how much time that walk could take and I remember business calls taken on Crissy Field. I picture the tourists and the bicyclists, the herons and the sandpipers. I count the steps. 12 miles of steps. But all of this only makes me more awake and wanting. Wanting the sun to rise and the calendar to clear enough to take the first step.

I can't sleep because I have places to go.

P.S. I will tell you a secret. Last night I raised my personal goal for the 3 day to $16,000. $1,000 for every year I have beaten Cancer. That would be $2,000 more than I have made ever before. That my friends is a scary goal, but just like a walk to SF, you get there one step at a time.

THANK YOU for helping me get there.

http://www.the3day.org/goto/donatetocathy

Going beyond the minimum

Each and every walker, in the Susan G Komen 3 day - 60 mile walk, makes a commitment to raise at least $2300. So as you sign up for this journey, you are making promises to do some pretty tough things. You will need to train countless hours to have the stamina to make the distance on the 3 day. 60 miles is your goal, and very few people sign up for this walk with the intention of taking the "sweep" vans.

I remember my daughters, who each on separate days, had to take the van due to injuries, looking absolutely devastated. That goal is so important, it is impossible to believe that after all the prep you have done, anything would prevent you from completing all 60 miles. So when something has the audacity to interfere, you are angry and disappointed at the same time.



The fundraising is difficult, especially in these economic times. But the promise is just as significant as the promise to walk. If you do not reach your $2300 on the day of the walk, if you want to walk , you have three choices, beg (and that doesn;t work...)... or give them your credit card, or give your credit card and then beg. I remember two girls who had come up short and did just that. They gave their credit card # then made a sign and pinned it to their backs saying... "we didn't make our minimum, please help!" I was one of several people who handed them something on the walk. Everyone who walks knows how hard this fundraising thing can be.

I know I am somewhat guilty of starting my efforts, in some people's minds, too soon. I know to some people my constant focus on this event becomes grating and annoying. I also know that last year I was the #3 fundraiser in the SF 3 day. And so I sit at the beginning of this year and I am looking ahead to the training and the fundraising and I am attempting to decide how to go about both.


This weekend I created a survey and sent it out to 200 people. Slowly the results are coming back in. I was looking for guidance about whether to continue our very success Wine Wars again this year. It is a lot of work. But it is also very fun. At Wine Wars the generosity of the community helps to create an evening of wine, food and fun. There is an auction (now both silent and live) and a raffle. A great band donates their time. Fine wineries donate their wines. The result is amazing. Even in a very slow economic time we raised crazy money. So I wanted to know if what I felt was indeed true. Do people enjoy Wine Wars and would they come again.

So far 86% say yes. I think that is pretty compelling... so far. So I think it is safe to say, we will be holding at least one more Wine Wars. We already have our caterers committed :) and donations pledged for items for the auction and raffle. Today I sent out letters to some businesses and I will continue to do that for awhile amassing what I hope will be an exciting and long list of things to be bid on. I am looking into creating an online silent auction that will dovetail with the one at the event. And I hope and trust we will once again break some records and continue to make a difference.

To tell you the truth any doubts I had about going for the maximum in $$$ for the 2011 walk were erased after I received that phone call from Brittany.

When Brittany called to thank me and my team for our fund raising efforts I heard in her the same fears I had when I was fighting Breast Cancer. She is a young mother with small children. This current diagnosis is a recurrence of Breast Cancer. Her age and her kind of Cancer are frightening to be certain. But I also heard in her voice something every Cancer patient should have... hope. Brittany has hope because she is part of a study, funded by Susan G. Komen, where she is receiving life saving treatment. If I ever considered taking the easy way to the 3 day, I threw that away when I heard her say "I plan on walking in the 2012 3 day."

So friends, neighbors, family and everyone else.... excuse me as I shamelessly and unapologetically grate on your every last nerve trying to make as much money as humanly possible for this cause. I cannot stop because if I do, I would be letting Brittany and women like her down. I survived. I owe to it them to give them the chance to survive too. So they can like I did, see their children grow. So they can feel the sun on their faces and the wind at their back as they enjoy their own lifetimes. I can't stop because there is still so far to go.

If you would like to chime in on Wine Wars and how to make it better, please click on this link and let me know your thoughts. An no worries, if you don't want me to know who you are , I won't. But if you do want me to know who you are please enter in your name somewhere in your response. THANKS


Click here to take survey

Or CLICK HERE TO DONATE

The challenges of winter, real estate and walking

When I hear people describe me, they usually come up with something that describes my tenacity. Varying from singleminded, to a dog on a bone, to a bull in a china shop. I am not always sure whether I should take these comments as compliments or complaints. I do tend to emmerse myself so much in a cause that it is impossible for me to believe others don't hold my goals in the same regard.

This never say never kind of thinking helped me finish both 3 day walks. Even with the most enormous blister known to man, I still hobbled across the city in year 1. In year 2, having learnt lessons, I made it without blisters and in one piece. Now the training for year 3 is starting off in colder than normal temperatures, with less time than the past to devote. My business is more challenging in the current economic times. Whatever I am doing is more time intensive. Short sales, foreclosures and dealing with banks who do not think or act logically leaves me stressing to find the time to get the sneakers on and get out the door. The way things are going the excuses for putting off training are piling up higher and higher ever day. And while they do, I become more tired and frustrated.

What my soul needs is to open the door, leave the computer and head out in the cold crisp air for a long and much need walk. But right now, I am bullheadedly waiting for banks to respond, for title companies to reply and business to be done. Trouble is.... the more I wait, the less is accomplished.

Perhaps it is time for me to be just as stubborn about making and keeping my own schedule as I have been about making deals that move at the pace of frozen molasses. Maybe if I take back my own time, I will find things will evolve around me. Maybe if I do that, deals will still be done. Maybe my clients will still be served and I still manage to stay in top notch walking shape at the same time. Maybe....

But I sit here staring at my computer screen reading a plaque that says "never, never, never give up," and think ok you stupid bank....... would you just hurry the heck up?!

Waxing nostalgic

I've been thinking a lot about the past. I suppose the new year kind of calls for a moment or two of reflection before we can focus on where we might like to head. And for me there is so much sweetness in the past, especially when I think about my family.

Today I have been thinking about my girl Katie.

Glenn would say she is his girl too, and I suppose I should always say OUR children, but somehow I have always been possessive of MY girls.

Katie was born with a sensitivity to life that was evident to anyone with eyes and ears. She looked like a porcelain doll. Her skin as soft and even as anything you have ever seen. I always thought of her as petite, and delicate. She was born (at a time not of either of our choosing) three weeks earlier than her due date and still she was 7 lbs. 14 oz. Since Allison was 9 lbs 4 oz when she was born that is part of the reason why I always felt Katie was the little one... Even when she outgrew everyone in school!

When I would hold Katie she would lean backwards and it was a struggle to be sure she didn't flip out of my hands. Allison had been a clinging baby. You could have put both your arms out to your side and she would still be holding on. (Except that one time when she was on my shoulders, but that is another story). Katie looked like she wanted to fly, arching her back arms flung outstretched.

She had a born enthusiasm that when she saw something new she would schreek

-. LOUDLY, clearing stores and causing a lot of stares. When she cried she cried LOUDLY and there was no way you could calm her down. She would only cry louder the more you tried. When Katie misbehaved and you would try to find a way to discipline her. The idea of time out sure didn't work. Sit her in a chair. She would catapult out of the chair tearing up her room leaving everything in shreds. I was sort of at wits end about what to do. Ultimately she was a pretty good kid. She idealized her sister and her father. She was a good friend to all kinds of kids, even the ones that others shunned.

Her heart was as big as the sky. Once during kindergarten Allison was asked to bring in an old toy to give to a poor child. She had a hard time thinking about what she would be willing to part with... but Katie came to me with her fuzzy lamby and said "give them my lamby". We picked a toy to give that she loved a little less. She wanted to give the one that mattered most.

Katie is today bright, caring, sensitive, artistic, unique. She is loved by many. No one more than her Dad and me. Her journey like all of ours is continuing - and I think it is exciting to know there is so much ahead of her.

To me she will always be my sweet sensitive caring girl who wants to fly.

And I love her.

First days.

When your children are little, each transition is emotional. The first tooth, the first steps, the first words get you ready to handle the first day of school.

When Allison first went to pre-school, I was ready. It gave me the time to spend with my younger daughter and it was a safe and fun place for her. She hardly blinked when she walked into the room, just went about her business of being a new kid in class. And I, with Katie on my hip, didn't have any trouble watching her go inside. However when I watched her graduate from pre-school I sobbed as they played pomp and circumstance and she walked up to get her diploma in her blue mortar board hat. The first day of big school I was similarly incapacitated as she walked inside the room, the door was shut in my face and I felt as if my arm had been cut off. By this time Katie was in pre-school (she would have rather been home), and I was childless for half a day at a time clueless about what I should be doing.

Every first day of school we would take a photo of the girls on the front steps of our house. The first pictures were of the girls in pre-school. The last one of each was senior year in high school. You can see them grow and change into giddy pre-teens into somewhat grumbly teens. Their clothes changed from ones carefully selected by their mother, to ones influenced by their own style and their friends opinions. Their carefully combed hair changed to wet hair straight out of the shower. The looks on their faces are mirrors to their moods. They morphed from excitement to finally tolerance of their parent's strange traditions.

Yesterday was Allison's first day at work at the State department. Glenn asked that she take a first day of school picture with her lunch box.... She had Chris take her picture at the front door because it was too dark to be outside. Her lunch box is replaced by a purse. Her smile is radiant and full of excitement and I looked at it feeling so excited for her and so happy for her.

Each and every step your child takes, you as a parent can't help but feel a part of. When they are walking into success you cannot help but smile. Then of course you also can't help pulling out those old pictures to remember when.

The gift

The cold chilling days of December are slipping by. Christmas with it frenetic whizzing speed has come and gone. The good cheer mixed with bittersweet moments, and a longing for times gone by. You wonder at times how you got to this place. This new place where children are grown, parents have aged and you are suddenly the "grownup". You look around for signs and people from your childhood and find missing pieces of your heart left in memories that smolder softly. It's winter.

Still as you survey the landscape you can see and feel the possibilities ahead like a tiny bird hiding in the bush, waiting for the climate to improve so they can take wing. We often are waiting.

When I was little I thought if I could only be a teenager, then I would have that kind of excitement and freedom I imagined my babysitter had. I saw her as having the kind of life that was full of rides in convertibles, and dances to the Beach Boys. She didn't have to do homework, or clean her room. She was free and happy. Then I when I became a teenager, I had a ton of fun, but I never felt free. After all, my parents still had the ultimate say. If I broke the rules I was flooded with guilt. I began to wish for becoming an adult, when it all would make sense. When I could chart my own course in life. I entered college with enthusiasm because it meant I was on my own... deciding when and where I would be choosing direction.

But when I graduated from college, I didn't quite know which way I was headed. You feel as if you should know, but you haven't a clue. The door to your future stands shut until you decide to open it. You stand in a corner without any direction until you turn around. You want to find a reason for your uncertainty in life, or someone on whom the blame can lie, but you know it is really just you, and that time in your life. Even with my job as a sales person for Procter and Gamble, I felt lost. Then life opened a door I didn't ever want to have opened. My mother was diagnosed with cancer. The direction I was to head was as clear as day, I needed to go home, with or without a job and so I did. And there, I began to search once again.

At 23 I was jobless, in search of a career. I worked at a friend's dress shop as I spent time helping my Mom go to Doctors appointments. I interviewed with dozens of companies. Until I secured a job at Merck selling drugs. One of only 2 women at the time in sales for Merck, I found myself up against chauvinistic men, my boss in particular, whose goal I felt was to try and get me in bed. The pay and the stress didn't add up to my dream situation. At 24, my mother died. At 25 I left my job and headed back to school to get my masters in education. I was living in a foreign city depressed not only from no income, but from no direction. I didn't believe I belonged in Southern California at all. I wondered why at 25 I didn't have a special person in my life. And then, I wrote a letter to a friend from college. Glenn Youngling. At 26 I fell in love. I quit my masters program and planned a wedding. At 27, I moved home. Home to Glenn.

No one could have told me back in those dark "corner" days where I would be find my home. I had to find it myself. It happened by moving forward. It happened by taking action.

If I could give anyone a gift this December and for the new year it would be to realize that the feeling of being stuck is a sign you need to turn around and take a step. The truth is you will never know if that one step will be in the absolute right direction, but it will be through the movement, that you can start to see which direction you should be heading.

Each stage in your life will have its own challenges. It is what you do with those challenges that will define you.

When I was diagnosed with Cancer 16 years ago, I began another period of fear and doubt. Standing in the corner with Cancer standing at my back, I was trapped. I was a victim and unable to really free myself. Then in 2009, I turned around and stared Cancer in the face. I reached out and pushed it aside and started walking. With each step I began to free myself from my self imposed prison. And I will continue to walk in 2011.

Your life is waiting.... turn around and take a step.

HAPPY NEW YEAR to everyone. If you read this and there are still hours left in 2010, consider making a donation to Susan G Komen for the 2011 3 day walk. You can take the deduction now, you will be helping me help them to end Cancer in our lifetimes. It's your basic win-win.

http://www.the3day.org/goto/donatetocathy

When Cancer wins.

Today, Elizabeth Edwards died from Breast Cancer.

I never knew her. I never voted for her husband. I remember when I heard she had Breast Cancer after the 2004 election, I thought how hard that must have been to deal with Cancer at the same time your husband is running for President. What I didn't know until today was that she hid her Cancer from her husband during this time. She didn't begin her treatment until after the campagin was over.

Reading about Elizabeth Edwards today, I find in her so much that is familiar. Especially the comment she made:

" Either you push forward with the things you were doing yesterday or your start dying" she said . "If I had given up everything my life was about... I would let the Cancer win before it needed to. But eventually it will win, I want to be sure it is not before it is suppsoed to."

And I suppose, someone would have to think Cancer needed to win now. But I do not agree.

We can and will find a cure for this disease. We will end this disease in our lifetime. Cancer doesn't need to win ever. It needs to be gone from the faces of women and men forever - out of our lives. The time has come for this thief to be banished forever.

The thing is, about being a survivor, despite your political, social, economic, philosophical background you know what it feels like to be told Cancer has plans for you. Women like Elizabeth Edwards fight a courageous fight. Each time another woman dies of Breast Cancer, I find that I feel I owe them a debt. As though I carry the story of their fight in me. It is a fight for all of us. And it is up to each an every one of us to carry the standard for those who cannot. The time has come for the war to be over.

DONATE today for Elizabeth, for Brittany the stage four survivor still fighting her fight with the funds from Susan G Komen. Donate for your children. Donate for yourself. Become a warrior pick up the battle standard of those who have fallen.

http://www.the3day.org/goto/donatetocathy