28 Miles, One Year Later: A Story of Strength and Hope
Half way point and a quick lunch with 2 of my boys and Bindi
When the Meaning of a Date Changes:
The date has come back around, the one that a year ago sat so heavy on my chest. Alongside the heaviness and reflection, two words kept coming to my mind: strength & endurance. I could not change the date and I would not be celebrating the original intent of the date, however deep inside I knew there was something to be celebrated. Twenty eight years of tenacity deserved to be celebrated. What better way to celebrate resilience than by doing something that requires strength and endurance. I walked 28 miles for every year that shaped me.
Choosing Celebration Over Sadness:
This date could have been a day of grief, however it ended up being a day of beauty, love, friendship, and courage. Some dates in our lives are not meant to be forgotten. But the meaning of them can change.
A Walk Told in Three Parts
Starting Alone
I began the walk by myself, early in the quiet morning. Walking always brings me clarity and hope. I started this walk/journey alone, however I would be joined soon by friends and family as a reminder, I am never truly alone.
The Middle Miles: Community Arrives
Friends and family joined me at different mile markers. Some walked a mile and some walked several miles with me. One set of friends handed me a necklace that spelled strength in Morse Code. Out-of-state friends tracked my shared location and called along the way.
The weather was beautiful, the timing of friends and family arriving at the different mile markers was perfect and the strength I felt physically and mentally was much needed. It was a good reminder that strength is rarely built alone.
Finish Alone
When the last friend peeled off and I was left with the final three miles on my own…
The quiet returned.
The meaning returned.
The truth returned.
I needed to finish alone, not because I lacked support, but because I needed a symbolic reminder that even when I am fatigued from life, I am strong enough to keep going.
The Finish Line
My friends and family gathered at a nearby restaurant where I would end my 28 mile walk. I walked into a restaurant where this group of people where smiling, cheering, congratulating me and hugging me. It really was beautiful. And now this date, that could have been full of heaviness and sadness, had a new happy memory. This date is now a reminder of all the love and support I have… and that is worth celebrating.
What This Walk Taught Me About Women’s Bodies
This is where my story meets Pelvic Pathways.
Women carry so much silently such as grief, pressure, expectations, transitions, the invisible load of caring for everyone else. We normalize discomfort. We push through sadness and pain. We tell ourselves to just keep going.
But true healing does not happen in one moment. It happens in miles.
One Year Later
A year later, I can say this with honesty:
I am strong.
I am resilient.
I am loved.
I am cautiously optimistic.
But I want to be honest, I still have days that feel heavy and at times seem unbearable. On those days, I try to return to the memory of the 28 mile walk. That walk has become a quiet source of motivation, reminds me that healing isn’t linear, strength isn’t loud, and resilience does not mean the absence of sadness. It means continuing, mile by mile, even when your path in life changes directions.
I also find strength in my faith. Lately, I have been listening to Samantha Ebert’s song Flowers. I won’t quote the lyrics but the message is: low seasons can still lead to something beautiful. No matter your faith, it is a reminder that heaviness isn’t the end of the story.
Next
There is another walk I will share soon, a pilgrimmage in Spain that brought more clarity, more friendship and more hope.