A trailblazing kind of summer
/Just like that, it was over. I'm now sitting trying to reflect on the journey I just had and it's hard. Every time I think about the weekend I just had, I start crying. I start feeling all of the love that was in that little conference room and on that trail and it just makes me so happy that tears come to my eyes.
Since April, I've been hiking. Hiking on the weekends and hiking every day after work. I've taken just about every route up to Horsetooth Rock that is possible and
The Beginning of the Journey
At the beginning of 2018, I came across this Facebook advertisement with information about a "Trailblaze Challenge" and Make-A-Wish Colorado. Me, being a "Wish Kid" myself and a strong supporter of Make-A-Wish's mission, clicked on it to find out what it was all about. (Yes, this is an instance in which a Facebook ad worked).
That led me to a bit of information about what it was and to sign up for an info session in April. They were all in Denver, but there was an online info session. So, that's the one I took part in. I listened to this wonderful woman named Caitie talk about Make-A-Wish and the challenge, which would be the first of its kind in Colorado. They had done it in other states but she was brought on by Make-A-Wish to create Colorado's inaugural Trailblaze Challenge. It sounded interesting and since "It's Not A Race, It's A Journey," it seemed to be more up my alley.
The Hesitation
My decision to hike didn't come without some sort of hesitation. If I had an infinite amount of time in which to do it, I would surely get it done. But the fact is, we had to be off the trail at some point, b some time, within a certain amount of hours. The little voice that I was not going to finish and that I just shouldn't even try to start with. I kept the whole thing pretty quiet while I decided what I was going to do. I reached out to a few close friends asking them for their opinions. There were only a couple of second guesses I had about this experience. The first was the fundraising minimum, but I got over that one pretty quickly. The second was would I even be able to do it? Now, I'm a pretty stubborn person, so if given all the time in the world to do it, I would surely get it done.
But after several friends supported my decision and told me that they've always "fiercely believed" in me, I decided to do it. The hiking weekend event would be the weekend of my 24th birthday and the hike would be approximately 24 (23.7) miles long.
The Inspiration
2017 was not my year. It was a year of lasts and just a lot of heartbreak for me. I had left my reporting job (what I thought was my dream job) in Gillette, Wyoming and moved back in with my parents having nothing to come back to. Shortly after that, I was up in Fort Collins taking care of a house while a friend was away on a several-month-long trip across Europe. I had lost a good friend and camper of Sky High Hope Camp to brain cancer over Memorial Day weekend. It hit me really hard.
Two weeks later we were all at camp, and I was holding up pretty well until the last night when I had a complete meltdown. In November, we lost another of ours from Sky High to Lymphoma and come the new year another to a tumor that came as a result of this camper's radiation treatments. After each and every one of those deaths, I struggled with extreme amounts of survivor guilt. I would just curl up in a corner of my apartment and cry for hours on end; I would close myself away from any social interaction; I felt awful every day. I started telling people that I was doing fine because I hardly understood what I was going through and was just tired of people telling me that it was going to be OK. I knew that it eventually would, but I really needed someone to tell me that it was OK to feel what I was feeling and that it seemed difficult now, but it would be all right. Telling me that I "survived for a reason" wasn't doing much for me.
I sat alone in my apartment on New Year's Eve thinking about the year I had. It wasn't all bad. I had gotten this job at a really great company and photographed a solar eclipse and went on several very memorable adventures with friends. But I didn't want to relive another 2017. There was too much pain associated with it. Too much loss. Too much sorrow. Just too much negativity and stress.
I decided I had to make 2018 a year that would count. The year that I finally started to take care of myself and the year that I started doing things for myself more - things that made me happy. So, when the opportunity for the TrailBlaze Challenge came along, I knew this was how I could make my year a memorable one, one that could touch thousands while I was doing something for myself.
The Training
Now, I'm not going to lie, some of the training hikes kicked my butt. When I got done with the nearly 10-mile hike that is Chicago Lakes, I was wondering what the heck I had gotten myself into. Some of them were hard because they started later in the day, it was hot and there was no shade (every hike I did after work ever), some took a toll on me because of the altitude and then there were some that started so early, I had to leave my apartment in Fort Collins in the wee hours of the morning to get to the trailhead on time. But, by the time we got to the 18.5-mile hike (which was made 18.5 because the .5-mile stretch was closed so we had to divert to the 2.8-mile section), I was feeling pretty good - it was also only about 60 degrees that day, so that helped greatly.
But I did discover some pretty beautiful trails... View the photos below for more.
The Weekend
August 10th had arrived. I turned 24 and I headed to Denver for what would be a wonderful weekend. I had the day off from work (yay for sleeping in), packed all my stuff, and left.
As I was driving, well, sitting in traffic, for the most part, I started thinking about what I was going to say as a mission speaker. That's right. I had said I was going to speak and had thought about what I wanted to say quite a bit, but hadn't formally written anything down until about two hours before I would speak at our pasta party.
Once I got to the hotel and checked in, I sat in my room thinking about it some more. I pulled out my phone and just started taking notes. One way or another, it all came together into what I would be saying in front of our hikers and hike leaders (and apparently Make-A-Wish's CEO - how glad I was not to know this when I was talking and learning it afterward). It actually was a nice reflection of why I had signed up to do the hike and why I was really hiking. So, here's what I came up with:
"Hi everyone, I’m Megan.
I’ve had the wonderful opportunity to hike with some of you and I hope to have the pleasure of knowing each and every one of you by the time we end tomorrow.
When I was six years old, I was diagnosed with a brain tumor. In June 2001, life for my family was turned upside down. For the next year and a half, daily life became a tedious string of doctor appointments, chemo treatments, blood transfusions, and surgeries. The walls of The Children’s Hospital downtown became as familiar to me as the walls of my home. You can imagine how happy I became when they moved to their new campus in Aurora. I no longer knew the walls and hallways like the back of my hand.
I was put on chemotherapy treatments for a year after my brain surgery. Because of the unfortunate location of my brain tumor on my brain stem and the size of it that was causing less muscle function on the right side of my face, only 20 percent of the tumor could be removed and chemo was used to shrink the remainder.
That year was hard. I stayed home from school more days than I went or went in for half-days, I couldn’t go outside for recess if it was too cold. I had traded afternoons of playing with friends and making a big deal out of things like stuffed animals and toys for needles, sickness and depression, not because I wanted to, but because it had to be done. My brother, who was 5 at the time of my diagnosis, wondered why my parents were spending more time with me than they were with him.
Cancer, and any childhood illness for that matter, is a family disease. It affects every family member.
When we were nearing the end of my treatment, that’s when Make-A-Wish came into the picture.
Now when you’re sick, you tend to want the thing that is furthest from your current reality. For me, that was being a princess. If you can’t guess where Make-A-Wish sent my family of four, let me give you a hint: It involved a mouse named Mickey. I met and spent time with Cinderella, my family and I went swimming with dolphins, and at discovery cove. This dolphin, named Thelma, had my family smiling from ear to ear. We started many of our mornings with ice cream from give kids the world village and had a blast exploring all that the village had to offer. We stayed at Animal Kingdom Lodge and had the time of our lives. It was a chance for my me to be a kid again, for my brother to have some fun and for our family to be together. They made my brother feel incredibly special throughout our entire trip and gave our family a little bit of hope.
The worst was over and it was going to be all right.
Make-A-Wish handled everything - from the ride to the airport until we got home safely - and they planned quite a few surprises throughout.
Fast forward 16 years. I’m standing here as a healthy, happy adult ready to give back to Make-A-Wish, an organization that gave my family a whole lot of good amidst a tough couple of years.
Almost 24 miles is no small feat, but as you’re walking the trail tomorrow, remember why you’re here. It’ll make the trek a little easier.
Let’s get hiking!"
Once it was time to head down to the pasta party, I was as ready as I was going to be.
We ate some delicious pasta (carb loading) and they sent us to bed pretty early - not that any of us actually went to bed at 7:30 p.m., but my roommate and I found "The Parent Trap" playing on the TV and relaxed watching that until we fell asleep.
Aug. 11, 2:45 a.m.
We're all sitting in the hotel lobby eating breakfast, or whatever our bodies are letting us get down at that time. For the most part, it was protein shakes and protein bars along with a bit of fruit.
We all loaded into vans and off we went.
I sat near a window so I could maybe catch a glimpse of the meteor shower that was at its height over that very weekend. I saw one shooting star right before we got to the trailhead and all the nerves in my body seemed to calm down. It was going to be OK and I was going to make it.
At 4:30 a.m., we had arrived at the trailhead. Being that it had been about 1.5 hours since we had eaten, we were all ready to use the restroom. One thing about trailheads... there's usually only one porta-potty. 68 of us... But, we were all hiking by 5:10, so we succeeded in using that thing fast.
After a quick group photo and the bathroom break, we were all setting off. As we were cheering people on as they started off on the trail, we saw a light come on in a tent. There were people camping at the trailhead. Not to say they didn't appreciate our enthusiasm, but I'm sure they had some wonderful words of encouragement for us as we were loudly parading by their tent between 4:30 and 5:15 a.m. (Hey, at least we were keeping the bears away).
I set off with one of the last groups and we were well on our way, into the dark trail.
We were about four miles in before dawn broke. The first part of the trail was the hardest. We had roughly 2,000 feet of elevation climb in those first six miles. The following four were pretty flat but through a burn scar so there was little shade. With aid stations every so often, we were able to refill on water and eat some snacks and sit before starting on the rest of the trail ahead of us.
I was feeling pretty good until we left aid station #3 and were well on our way to aid station #4, heading uphill once again. But with the help of hike leader George, who hiked with four of us at the end of the group, we all made it, partly because he would stand at streams and small creeks and splash water onto us as we kept going. Once I made it to about mile 17, I just had to keep going. I knew that if I stopped at any aid station from then on for too long, I wasn't going to be continuing.
The trail was pretty, but I tried to keep myself from taking too many photos because I knew I had to finish. But here are a few...
Once we got to about a mile from the finish, George turned to me and said: "You have about a mile left, you gonna make it?" To which I replied" "Is there any other option?"
Once we reached the finish line - we could see it from the top of a hill - and the finish was at the bottom - I definitely cried. Maybe it had been because I had been walking for 24 miles, maybe it was because I had done something I sometimes doubted myself in, maybe it was that and a whole lot of other stuff. Nevertheless, the ringing of cowbells took me to the finish line. I sat down, grabbed my Chacos and my dry shirt out of my comfort pack, and sat waiting for the remaining three to come in. I also dodged George trying to put ice down the back of my shirt. I had completed the hike in 13.5 hours. My goal was 14 so I beat it! But finishing was the important part for me this year. It wasn't easy, but it was so worth it.
Victory Breakfast
We got up the following morning for breakfast at 8 a.m. and to recap the weekend. Part of that was the pin dedication. We each got pins for the event and dedicated them to certain people. Two of my fellow hikers dedicated them to me, bringing absolute tears to my eyes. Here's what they said:
"I dedicate my pin to Megan. Megan, I met you on the very first training hike and hearing your story and hearing you share it the other night, your story and your drive and your passion are so inspiring."
"So obviously, the biggest inspiration here is Megan. I thought about you a lot out there yesterday."
So, I'll close with this: the best adventures aren't always fun while they're happening (some of that "Type 2 Fun"), but they are so worth it in the end, especially if they're for a great cause.
Thanks, Make-A-Wish for what you do and continue to do for Colorado families. I am honored to have been a part of the inaugural Trail Blaze Challenge Colorado. Here's to next year and I'll see you out on the trail.