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I took off my old, worn running shoes and lifted them up, the cheers and sobs of my fellow walkers ringing in my ears. As the rest of the participants lifted up their shoes, a hush fell over the crowd, a moment of silence honoring all the loved ones that we had walked for. The organizer of the Breast Cancer 3 Day smiled at us, announcing the three words we had all longed to hear for a very long time: "You did it." As thousands of pink carnations showered the brilliant blue sky, a realization dawned over me: though the walk itself had just ended, the impact it had on me would last a lifetime. The Michigan Breast Cancer 3 Day to me wasn't just some obstacle I had overcome or some kind of great achievement; rather it was a self discovery of unforeseen possibilities, an awareness of how the world out there is so much bigger than me. It was an inspirational and incredible experience that in the end, has given me so much more than I had ever given to it. This journey, however, had begun long before I took my first step over the start line.
"Oh, pretty, pretty please" begged my friend Katie for the hundredth time. I looked at her eager face, biting my lip in hesitation even though the urge to say yes bubbled inside of me. For the first two weeks of school, she had been tirelessly encouraging me to join her in the 2009 Breast Cancer 3 Day walk. Though I found the walk to be a worthwhile charitable cause, I was worried of whether I'd be able to carry out such a commitment. After repeated assurances that she and her family would help me every step of the way, I finally agreed and registered for the walk. Little did I know what would be in store for me the following summer.
The school year flew by and July rolled around. Before I knew it, the walk was in a month, and I hadn't raised a single penny of the minimum $2300 dollars needed to participate. Caught up in the busy turmoil of school, I had barely contacted Katie's family at all for fundraising the entire school year. Already, this walk had taught me one of my first important lessons: large scale accomplishments require ample time and commitment. My family urged me not to continue with the walk. "Why waste your time doing something that won't make much of a difference? You could spend this tme doing something much more productive" my sister had said to me. Confused and distraught, I ran outside after her outburst, tears streaming down my face. I sat down on the porch and gazed up at the sky, torn between the difficult decision I had to make: give up on the walk, or continue on this alone? As I loked at the twinkling stars, the bright moonlight shining down on me, a fierce determination sprung inside of me. I decided right then that I didn't want to be someone who wouldn't follow through with something, even if it seemed impossible. I had made a promise, and I was to fulfil it.
Deciding how to raise the money was easy. I wanted to share with the world one of my greatest passions-classical music-and what better way to do it than with a benefit concert? Not wanting to burden my friends or family, I undertook the entire project alone. I spent the next few weeks making dozens of phone calls and passing out hundreds of homemade flyers to local neighbourhoods and restaurants. After 3 exhausting weeks, I had finally managed to acquire a few extremely talented musicians to play, a free venue in which to host the concert, and some donated refreshments for my guests. All I could do at that point was hope that people would attend. The evening of the concert, there was an outpour of generosity from my friends and family. I was moved by the overwhelming contributions I received; even those who could not make it to the performance stopped by at the end to drop off a donation. From this, I discovered that no one can be truly successful alone; it is with the love and guidance from the ones you care about that brings you to even greater heights. Without the support of those around me, I couldn't have been able to accomplish my goal. All that awaited me now was the walk itself.
The morning of the opening ceremony, I was wide awake, and the most nervous I had ever been in my life. I had no idea what to expect, especially since I had not had time to train. However, the 60 mile pilgrimage wasn't as difficult as I thought it'd be. Though the hot sun incessantly beat down, the steadfast and vivacious spirit of the walkers kept me energized and walking. Throughout the three days, I had the fortune to meet and converse with a multitude of diverse men and women, all affected and united by this one disease. Even faced with great adversity, these men and women had found the strength to fight for a cure for future generations. After hearing their stories and struggles, I was deeply humbled. I realized how infinitesimal my contributions and experiences were in retrospect. However, I wasn't in any way shameful or disheartened by the little my 16 year old self could give. Instead, I was driven to work even harder and learn as much as I could so that in the future, I would have the capacity and the capability to do so much more for the world and for the human race.
Though I've long outgrown them, I still have that raggedy pair of tennis shoes, lying in a box at the foot of my bed. I keep those shoes not as a trophy or a memento, but as a reminder of the journey I have yet to take, and the people I have yet to help.
I took off my old, worn running shoes and lifted them up, the cheers and sobs of my fellow walkers ringing in my ears. As the rest of the participants lifted up their shoes, a hush fell over the crowd, a moment of silence honoring all the loved ones that we had walked for. The organizer of the Breast Cancer 3 Day smiled at us, announcing the three words we had all longed to hear for a very long time: "You did it." As thousands of pink carnations showered the brilliant blue sky, a realization dawned over me: though the walk itself had just ended, the impact it had on me would last a lifetime. The Michigan Breast Cancer 3 Day to me wasn't just some obstacle I had overcome or some kind of great achievement; rather it was a self discovery of unforeseen possibilities, an awareness of how the world out there is so much bigger than me. It was an inspirational and incredible experience that in the end, has given me so much more than I had ever given to it. This journey, however, had begun long before I took my first step over the start line.
"Oh, pretty, pretty please" begged my friend Katie for the hundredth time. I looked at her eager face, biting my lip in hesitation even though the urge to say yes bubbled inside of me. For the first two weeks of school, she had been tirelessly encouraging me to join her in the 2009 Breast Cancer 3 Day walk. Though I found the walk to be a worthwhile charitable cause, I was worried of whether I'd be able to carry out such a commitment. After repeated assurances that she and her family would help me every step of the way, I finally agreed and registered for the walk. Little did I know what would be in store for me the following summer.
The school year flew by and July rolled around. Before I knew it, the walk was in a month, and I hadn't raised a single penny of the minimum $2300 dollars needed to participate. Caught up in the busy turmoil of school, I had barely contacted Katie's family at all for fundraising the entire school year. Already, this walk had taught me one of my first important lessons: large scale accomplishments require ample time and commitment. My family urged me not to continue with the walk. "Why waste your time doing something that won't make much of a difference? You could spend this tme doing something much more productive" my sister had said to me. Confused and distraught, I ran outside after her outburst, tears streaming down my face. I sat down on the porch and gazed up at the sky, torn between the difficult decision I had to make: give up on the walk, or continue on this alone? As I loked at the twinkling stars, the bright moonlight shining down on me, a fierce determination sprung inside of me. I decided right then that I didn't want to be someone who wouldn't follow through with something, even if it seemed impossible. I had made a promise, and I was to fulfil it.
Deciding how to raise the money was easy. I wanted to share with the world one of my greatest passions-classical music-and what better way to do it than with a benefit concert? Not wanting to burden my friends or family, I undertook the entire project alone. I spent the next few weeks making dozens of phone calls and passing out hundreds of homemade flyers to local neighbourhoods and restaurants. After 3 exhausting weeks, I had finally managed to acquire a few extremely talented musicians to play, a free venue in which to host the concert, and some donated refreshments for my guests. All I could do at that point was hope that people would attend. The evening of the concert, there was an outpour of generosity from my friends and family. I was moved by the overwhelming contributions I received; even those who could not make it to the performance stopped by at the end to drop off a donation. From this, I discovered that no one can be truly successful alone; it is with the love and guidance from the ones you care about that brings you to even greater heights. Without the support of those around me, I couldn't have been able to accomplish my goal. All that awaited me now was the walk itself.
The morning of the opening ceremony, I was wide awake, and the most nervous I had ever been in my life. I had no idea what to expect, especially since I had not had time to train. However, the 60 mile pilgrimage wasn't as difficult as I thought it'd be. Though the hot sun incessantly beat down, the steadfast and vivacious spirit of the walkers kept me energized and walking. Throughout the three days, I had the fortune to meet and converse with a multitude of diverse men and women, all affected and united by this one disease. Even faced with great adversity, these men and women had found the strength to fight for a cure for future generations. After hearing their stories and struggles, I was deeply humbled. I realized how infinitesimal my contributions and experiences were in retrospect. However, I wasn't in any way shameful or disheartened by the little my 16 year old self could give. Instead, I was driven to work even harder and learn as much as I could so that in the future, I would have the capacity and the capability to do so much more for the world and for the human race.
Though I've long outgrown them, I still have that raggedy pair of tennis shoes, lying in a box at the foot of my bed. I keep those shoes not as a trophy or a memento, but as a reminder of the journey I have yet to take, and the people I have yet to help.