We Walk

Tomorrow, we walk.

We walk for the countless who've been affected and the countless who will be. We walk for those who have had and who will have no choice but to fight. For their families and friends.

This year, I walk for my friend's mom, designated mere weeks ago with stage four inflammatory breast cancer. She means the world to my friend. My friend means the world to me.

Every day I hope her story ends with remission, hope, a future. Every day I battle doubts and fears that she may not. I can't imagine being in my friend's shoes. Having to deal with those doubts and fears multiplied to infinity about the person in the world who means the most to her.

This friend of mine? She's the reason I walked last year. For months, we trained for the walk and raised funds for the cause and spread the word about prevention and early detection to our friends and loved ones.

Still, despite it all, her mom was diagnosed not quite a year after our many-miled march through DC/VA/MD with one of the rarest and most aggressive forms of breast cancer out there.

I know no one who hasn't had to deal with the far-reaching, negative effects of cancer. And I'd like nothing better than to see it eradicated.

So I walk. So we walk. In the hope that more stories will end with remission, hope, a future. In the hope that this money will aid prevention efforts, result in us seeing fewer cancer cases. That our efforts will help those working toward finding a cure succeed in their mission.