Castro Valley for the Cure

“Are you giving the least to those that matter most? And are you sharing your best, with those who really aren’t that close? Well, it’s time to turn around, and find out where the greatest joys are found.” These words are from a song that I love and remind me of two strong women here in Castro Valley that have inspired our community with their dedication and effort towards a very important cause: the fight to find a cure for breast cancer.

Over the weekend of September 9-11, these ladies, along with thousands of others joined together in the Bay Area for the Susan G. Komen 3-Day for the Cure Walk. Since its inception, over  $400 million dollars has been raised. This event involved an individual fundraising effort of $2,300 and a grueling 60-mile walk over three days.

The reasons behind each individual’s walk are always different, yet they share a common goal. What motivated these two individuals from within our community - Cindy Miller and Kari McMurray - to pursue their goal of raising money and participating in this year’s walk is the focus of my latest article. Hopefully their message will resonate with you as it did me, and we can start to think about ways to more productively spend our free time, or turn our attention to “those that matter most.”

As you will learn, these women are strong, selfless, thoughtful, and successful. They were able to spend the time and effort to reach out to family, friends, and community members to raise the funds necessary to participate in the event, and summoned the strength developed over months of intensive training to walk the entire 60-mile journey over a three-day period.

Join me now, as we meet Cindy Miller and learn about her story. It’s a simple story entitled: “My Sister.”

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My sister, Debbie, was diagnosed with Stage III-B breast cancer in May of 2010. Her treatment began with an aggressive course of chemotherapy, followed by a double-mastectomy, radiation and hormone therapy. As sisters, we went through most of her treatments together – so to speak. She went through all of the pain, nausea, hair loss, burns, tests, surgical procedures and now lymphedema. Her husband and I sat with her, prayed with her, chauffeured her, met with her doctors, held her hand, etc.  Her husband documented the whole process in a blog titled “My Bride’s Journey”, complete with pictures.

Through it all, Debbie was amazing. She had the most incredible faith and attitude, raising the spirits of other patients, therapists, doctors and surgeons, with a smile on her face nearly every step of the way. Fears and tears were expressed from time to time in private, but they were of short duration. And on the outside, her strength and faith consistently showed through.  

She finished the active part of her treatments in February and soon after signed up for the Susan G. Komen walk, on the same weekend that my husband and I had decided that I should walk. Our team name was “The Journey Continues…” Debbie felt that even though she knew the walk would be extremely tough on someone still recovering from such aggressive treatment, this walk was something she could pro-actively do, so that one day this disease would be eradicated and no one else would ever have to go through what she has.

For me, I have watched my mother deal with this disease and now my sister as well. Although the thought of walking 60 miles frightened me, I felt it could not possibly compare to what each of them has had to experience. They didn’t have a choice. I have three other sisters, two sisters-in-law, many aunts, cousins and nieces, and I choose to do something to try to stop anyone else I love from having to go through this.

It was tough in these economic times to raise the requisite $2300 each. But there were many angels who helped us reach our goal. Personally, I had over $500 donated from people I don’t even know and likely will never even meet. We had many people that donated cans and bottles, scrap metal and copper wire, and even supplies needed for the walk itself. Near the end of the fundraising, when it was doubtful if we would meet our combined goal, my sister and I decided to raffle the quilt I was making for her during her treatment. It’s not even completed yet, and I’ll make her another, but it gave us a boost in the fundraising to offer it as an incentive to donate. Through all of this, I reached my monetary goal the week before the walk and Debbie reached hers the day before the walk began.

Preparation entailed training, practice walks, being fitted for the proper shoes, purchasing the right socks, clothing, bags, hat, sunscreen, etc. The morning of the walk, we rose at 4:00 am to get to the Cow Palace by 6 to check in. My sister had been chosen to carry one of the survivor flags in the opening and closing ceremonies, the flag of “Optimism”. Perfect choice for her.

We were tired, emotional, nervous and excited to start the walk and the tears started to flow within moments of the beginning of the opening program. Everyone there had a special reason they were going to give up three days to walk 60 miles – something most of us had never attempted before.

We started in Daly City, walked along beautiful Ocean Beach and through the streets of San Francisco and ended up at the Ferry Building on the first day. Total miles – 20.3 on that first day, plus mileage around camp. There were many hills that first day; a couple of them were particularly steep and long. The hill next to the Cliff House around mile 10 or so was one of them. Followed by the unending stairs on the Land’s End Trail, topped off by the incredibly steep parking area and driveway of the Presidio Golf Course Club House. It was exhausting, and I realized I was in for much more than I had ever bargained for! This was only day 1!

When I finally reached the Ferry building I was spent. Exhausted and emotional to have made it that far, I collapsed in a heap, sobbing for no reason at all and causing great concern to the medical staff. I was very surprised that my sister was still walking. She had not stopped and taken the shuttle as I thought she would have. She had met a buddy. Another cancer survivor named Kim – and they held each other together for the rest of the walk down to the wharf.  We took the ferry over to Treasure Island, knowing we had another mile and a half to walk to get to camp. Getting off the ferry, Deb grabbed a shuttle into camp and I started that final leg. I realized that a member of the medical staff that had been on the ferry was walking with me. I thought it was because her long day of service was over and she wanted the company. I then realized that a couple of the San Jose police officers on bikes were directly behind us and another member of the crew that I had seen throughout the day. It wasn’t until we were approaching camp and someone came up and asked if I would carry in the camp flag that I realized, with horror, that I was the last official walker on the course! We soon caught up to two other women and when we came into camp, we three walkers carried in the flag of ‘Courage’ and hoisted the camp flag up the flagpole as the rest of the 1500 or so walkers spilled out of the mess tent to welcome us. As embarrassing as that was, I was so glad I had not quit and that I had pushed myself to walk that first 20 miles.

My sister and I both ended up in the medical tent that first night. Deb with nausea and blisters, and I with horrific leg cramps. We each got the help that we needed, headed back to set up camp and didn’t make it into bed until nearly 10. Neither of us being campers, and having to share an air mattress because both of the ones we brought would not fit in the same tent, it was not the most restful night’s sleep. But somehow we were able to get up the next morning and start out again.

The mile and a half walk to the ferry in the morning was beautiful, windy and cold. Most walkers stopped for pictures with the San Francisco skyline as the backdrop. The ferry dropped us at the Berkeley Marina and we set off through city streets, up Solano Avenue, through the UC Berkeley campus, lunching at Lake Merritt and ending up at Jack London Square to catch the ferry back to Treasure Island.

Debbie ran into some health issues early on in the day. The nausea was back, in force. The medical team was concerned with her ability to stay hydrated. One of the wonderful sweeper vans took her to the lunch stop where the biggest of the pit stop medical stations had been set up. It was decided that she should head back to camp and get some rest and fluids so that she could walk again on the third day. She was certainly disappointed but listened to the medical crew. Her husband came and sat with her for a while to make sure she was okay.

In the meantime, somewhere near the 5 mile mark on the morning route, I stepped somewhat awkwardly on a section of pavement that had buckled and twisted my knee. To be precise, I was later told that I had strained the distal portion of the ilial-tibial band. I was able to keep walking, but it slowed me down quite a bit. I was okay walking up hills, but walking down was another story. By the time I reached around mile 10, I realized I needed help with the knee. I was so disappointed that I was not going to be able to walk the entire 60 miles. I was ‘swept’ the remaining 5 miles to the lunch stop, where the medical team put some stylish pink tape on the knee, gave me some ice and allowed me to go on with the walk.

This is when the cheering teams really came into play. The San Jose Police Officers on bikes, riding along side lone walkers to give encouragement and make sure all was okay. The random groups of family cheerleaders with stickers, candy, or spray bottles filled with water. The crazy crosswalk patrol members with their boom boxes and silly costumes and their bikes or motorcycles all decked out in pink boas and sparkling bras. All of them helped to keep the walkers cheerful and motivated.

The ferry ride back to the island was noticeably quieter. A quick hot shower in the back of a semi-truck and then it was dinner and time for bed. Unlike the night before, we hit the tent about 7:30, unaware if there were evening festivities going on or not.

The final morning of the walk, we were up at 5 to pack up our gear and take down the tent. We ate a quick breakfast, stopped in for some blister care for Deb and headed for the gate. This morning the start of the walk was very much different. This was 9/11. The first mile was walked in silence, giving us a chance to reflect and remember those lost 10 years ago and how our lives had changed since that day.

This time the ferry dropped us in Tiburon. We took it one step at a time, one mile at a time. Deb was usually well ahead of me. She was amazing. We stopped more than once for blister care and knee tape. I would pass her on the uphill and she would pass me again on the downhill slopes. We realized we were way behind and barely making it to the pit stops before they closed. We knew we were not going to make it the full route that day. So we caught a sweeper van to the final lunch stop and lost about another 5 miles or so. Deb’s blisters were so large, we named the biggest one H’owie’. And I was now on a first name basis with a couple of people on the medical team. I had my back adjusted, my knee re-taped and was once again ready to go.

Sitting at the base of the Golden Gate Bridge, we could see the finish across the bay. A mere 5 miles away. The problem? Getting UP to the bridge. A final, huge, winding hill that truly sapped what strength was left. The walk across the bridge was amazing. It was very windy and crowded, but the views were spectacular and the cars honking every now and then in support of the walkers really helped.

The last two miles were definitely the longest of the entire course. We were sure the end would never actually materialize. Our families met us along the route. Deb was greeted by her hubby and two girls who had seriously missed their mom, and my husband was there with a wonderful bear hug just before the end of the walk.

Deb and I finished as we had begun this walk, together. We linked arms, partly as a team, but mostly to hold each other up, and walked into the field where we were greeted by all those we had met along the way. The crew, the SJPD, the medical team and most of the rest of the walkers. We did it! We had done the very best we could do. Debbie an incredible 40 or so miles and me somewhere around 50. Never could I have imagined I could walk that far in a week, let alone 3 days. We truly felt that we had accomplished something huge.

We waited in the ‘holding area’ until all the walkers were in and accounted for, then lined up to walk the final distance to the closing ceremonies. We celebrated, we danced, we hugged, we cried. At one point, we took off a shoe and held it in the air, a tribute to all the survivors who walked in this 3-day event. The last walkers in were the same ones that were the first walkers out at the beginning of this adventure  - the 8 who represented all the survivors of this nasty disease, my sister being one of them.

And on the way off the field, ready to find my husband and head for home, I spotted my special angel, Laurel, of the medical team, and asked her, after everything else she had done for me, if she could do me one more great favor – would she please tie my shoe, for I knew I couldn’t bend down to do it and have any hope of getting back up. She did – bless her heart!

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Kari McMurray is my wife. We are closing in our 11th anniversary this December. Three years ago, Kari joined together with her mom, Kathi, and sister, Kimberly, and together they trained and raised money to participate in the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer in San Francisco. They dubbed themselves The Jibbley Girls and they had what turned out to be a life-changing experience, and a new tradition was born.

Like so many things that Kari and her family does for others, this experience was just something that Kari felt would , above all things, help bring her family closer together. However, “since my family has started this journey,” she says, “we’ve come in contact with so many who’ve been touched by this disease. We hope to keep fighting until the day when a cure is found.”

Kathi, Kimberly, and Kari ended up making it through the 2-day, 39+ mile journey in SF. At $1800 per participant, that's $5400 total towards a very important cause, plus a combined total of close just over 117 miles walking.

Year two was a bit of a different story for our family. “I was in my final month of pregnancy and so I went out to be cheerleader for my sister, Kimberly.”  Add another $3600 to the pot, and that's $9000 from the Sathre family toward the fight against breast cancer. A combined total of just over 78 miles walking, and that's a total of 195 miles!

In 2010, Kari was back on her feet and ready to get back into the mix as an active member of the Jibbley Girls. Only Kimberly and Kari completed the walk in 2010 and the Girls brought their three-year total to $12,600 raised for the cure. Add in another 78+ miles, and the Jibbley have walked a total of 273 miles (not counting training). 

“This year was a much different situation because I had a trip planned to visit family in Utah and I did not want to have back-to-back weekends away from home. So my co-worker, Lori, who normally participates in the Susan G. Komen event each fall, invited me to join her for the 3-day event. I  jumped at the chance. 

“Kimberly made the journey on the Avon Walk once again, this time joined by her husband, LaVor.” That brings the combined total of money raised to $16,200 and the combined number of miles walked to 351. 

After Kari's funds were raised ($2300; $500 more than is required for the Avon Walk) and miles walked (60; 21 more than the Avon Walk) the GRAND TOTAL increased to over $18,500 raised and more than 411 miles walk in four years between four people (and all the generous folks who donated, of course!). That’s like walking from here to Riverside. 

As you can imagine, I am quite proud of my wife and her family for their dedication to supporting breast cancer through the annual fundraising efforts and physical fitness through their walking. They continue to make a true difference in our community through their efforts.

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Both women offer their thanks to the community for the support given towards their fundraising efforts. Cindy and her husband Jim are now preparing for the 2012 3-Day for the Cure event in San Diego. After Kari’s experience this month, she’s already planning on returning to complete the 3-Day for the Cure next year when it returns to the Bay Area. 

Families have been strengthened, prayers have been answered, lives have been touched. These ladies represent something much bigger than one individual. They demonstrate that you can set and achieve goals, and help others in ways that require extraordinary sacrifice and dedication.