Confessions of a Klutz

The OUC Half Marathon is popular among the Orlando running community, boasting a lovely course, but also numerous sections paved with brick. I ran this race several times without incident. Nevertheless, I always approached the brick portion with a sense of impending doom.

My inner klutz, convinced I was destined to eat it, would inevitably toss out helpful warnings like, "Wow! Those bricks sure look hard! It probably would hurt if you tripped and fell right about now!"

In 2005, the prophecy was fulfilled in a dramatic way. As I hit mile 9, a particularly troublesome brick caught my toe, and I found myself unexpectedly tumbling headlong toward the sidewalk. Thinking that I needed to preserve not only my knees, but also my dignity, I threw my shoulder forward intending for my upper body to take the brunt of the fall. What resulted was a spectacular - yet sexy! - full body slam into the ground. I was left with skinned knees, bloody shins, and a multi-colored bruise that covered my left arm from shoulder to elbow. Hot. I hobbled my way through the remaining four miles feeling rueful, but not particularly surprised.

This was not the first time something like this has happened.

If there's a table leg, I'll stub my toe. If there's a crack in the sidewalk, I'll trip over it. If there's a pole, there's a strong chance I just might run into it.

I even managed to fall down the stairs in front of 400+ people at my senior social work ceremony in college. Awesome, right?

Last night I further drove home this point. While walking to catch the T, I happily (and a bit drunkenly, if I'm completely honest) chatted to my husband about my bar-hopping glory days. Apparently I am incapable of reminiscing, drinking, and walking at the same time because I stumbled over a cobblestone and took a digger. Needless to say, this did not go unnoticed by passersby. No one laughed, although I really can't say I'd blame them if they had. I probably would have.

So I'm quite sure that in the coming months I will be able to regale you with many delightful tales. Since I will be training at least part of the time on the treadmill, the possibilities really are endless.

Susan G. Komen 3-Day for the Cure

Several years ago I drove from Orlando to Miami to watch as two friends - along with hundreds of other men and women - took their last steps in a 60-mile, 3-day journey.

That day will forever stand out in my memory as one of the most eye-opening and emotional experiences of my life. Partly thanks to a pair of sly yet exuberant tow-truck drivers who wound up transporting me and my vehicle back to Orlando, leaving me convinced there is a super-secret tow-truck driver network that encompasses the whole of the United States - from sea to shining sea.

But that, my friends, is a story best left for another day. Mostly, I found myself fiercely applauding, cheering myself hoarse, and hoping fervently that I had remembered to apply waterproof mascara that morning as tears streamed down my face, wetting the neckline of my tank top. To say that I was a mess would have been a terrific understatement.

The sea of pink-shirted survivors, as well as those who walked in honor and in memory of their sisters and brothers made it so clear that for so many others, the journey is just beginning. And even as I hoped that it would no longer be necessary, I promised myself that one day I would join them in their fight. I would walk.

Every year since, I've wondered if this would be the year. And every year - daunted by the fundraising goal - I would make the decision to donate to some other cause, or participate in some other event.

Not this time.

This week I signed up for the Boston-area Susan G. Komen 3-Day for the Cure.

July 22 - 24, 2011 will find me and my cousin-in-law Chrissy walking 60 miles over 3- days to raise funds for breast cancer research.

*** sappiness ensues ***

Together, we are Team Livergoods for Life, representing not just the love we have for the men we have married, but also our desire to find a cure.

*** end sappiness ***

(No gagging. you can't say I didn't warn you.)

Cancer has affected both Ryan's and my families deeply, and I'm proud to be a part of such a meaningful event.

I'll be documenting my training and fundraising over the coming months. Feel free to stop by to check it out. Of course, I welcome training tips, fundraising advice, and words of encouragement.

*** shameless plea for your money ensues ***

I also welcome your donations. You can donate directly on my page, or print out a donation sheet and send it directly to the company. My goal is to raise $2,500, but I would really like to blow that out of the water.

*** end (for now) shameless plea for your money ***

Your support means that one day this walk will no longer be just one of hope... but one of celebration for finally ending the battle against cancer.

But in the meantime... I'll be walking.