The First Color…Blue

As we head through this journey together, you’ll see that t-shirt colors are oddly, on the one hand, but quite logically on the other, meaningful to Make A Wish Trailblazers. The first of these colors is blue. You see, the colors mean so much because they are earned. And although we are hikers, they are really not earned with our feet, but yet with our hearts.

It’s takes two things to earn a Make A Wish Trailblaze Challenge blue shirt: a 28.3 mile hike and, more importantly, meeting a fundraising goal of >/= $2500. That may sound like a lot of money, and it definitely is to me as a public school teacher, but it’s nothing compared to what our Wish Kids go through every day. Hospital trips…medications…side effects…wins…losses… And nothing compared to what our Wish Parents go through every day. Medical bills…time off from work…no time off from work…sleepless nights…resuscitating your own child…and having to keep their emotional health up at the same time.

The average Wish costs around $7500. Again, you may say, “Too much.” But, is it really? To travel, Wish Kids and their families often need special transportation, healthcare assistants, and specialized equipment. Without the Wish, many of our kids are trapped by their condition. Unable to travel, or at least without the deck stacked against them, don’t they deserve the chance to escape?

So you can probably tell by now that it’s the Wish Blue in the shirt that really means the most to us. And yes, there is a very short 28.3 mile hike thrown in there. A hike that we train months for. From the first training hike of 3-4 miles, to the 28.3 miles on the actual Challenge day, we are always hiking for wishes.

You see, I learned quickly in October 2018, as I climbed out of the van at 4 am, cold and struggling with my headlamp, that the 28.3 miles was again more about heart than feet. A couple of miles in I had cursed every root on the trail. And, my friends will appreciate this, apologized to the hikers in front and behind of me every time I did. My glasses were fogging up, and no amount of spit in the world could stop it. I finally took them off. But there was a family with me in the dark. A family of Trailblazers, and we were calling out, “root” here, and “rock” there, to each other. I’ll save the details of this section for a later post, but suffice to say that it was only the hearts of others that got me to the first aid station, at only 4.9 miles in.

Waiting for me there was the best Krispy Kreme donut I’ve ever tasted. Someone took a picture of me with hiking poles in hand and the donut in my mouth. I had to get back out on trail. I was so worried after those first miles. I thought that I would never make the time cutoff to finish the full 28.3 miles. I was feeling disillusioned. Definitely more about heart than feet…

The second leg of the hike was an easier segment. I was able to move very quickly, and I was, thank goodness, kicking less roots. I got to walk for a little while with a very nice group of Trailblazers and then I found myself alone for several miles. But, I wasn’t. The sun was coming up, and the birds were beginning to talk. The forest was coming alive. Our fearless leaders had told us that this would perhaps be the most inspiring time of the day. But, I had no idea just how inspiring. I headed into Aid Station 2 with a slight jog.

Aid Station 2 is akin to a national monument among the Trailblaze family. The same couple and their daughters run it every hike. A couple of weeks before the hike, they send out a request. A request for our requests. “What would you like to have at Aid Station 2?” As you can imagine, most of us feel a little awkward asking someone to much less buy, but also deliver, something to us. And for nothing in return. But, it’s more heart than feet. At Aid Station 2, you are hand delivered your favorite hiking snack. And more, if you desire. Be it a Gatorade. A Clif bar (my personal favorite). A bowl of hot soup I’ve heard, on occasion. Volunteers take your shoes off and help with hotspots or worse yet, blisters. There’s an actual restroom. Volunteers have carried your comfort bag to you so that you can change clothes if you like. And right before you step back out on trail, these two amazing little girls give you a bracelet. That bracelet reads, “When you feel like quitting, think about why you started. 28.3” It’s definitely more about heart than feet.

And then, my heart sank. I had heard that the third leg was the toughest. It is the longest stretch between aid stations, about 12 miles. And I was alone for almost all 12. For a while, the trail follows the river. And while it’s very pretty, I was used to the trail being in the forest. So, I spent a mile or so convinced that I was on the wrong trail. Begging for a white blaze (Foothills Trail). Every time I caught my breath, I felt as if I found another hill. “Just one more hill…” It’s kind of a motto of ours. There was no doubt in my mind at this point that this hike would be all about heart. Forget the feet. I couldn’t feel them anyway.

And right when my heart was almost ready to give in, another heart saved me. I hit what’s called the “oasis.” A mini-station, right in the middle of the forest, where yet another Trailblaze family member greets you with an ice-cold orange and bottle of water. And it gets you up the toughest hill of the entire hike, right on into Aid Station 3.

I didn’t stay at Aid Station 3, although there were again numerous hearts tending feet and feeding cheeseburgers. I had heard from friends that it was all downhill from there, and I was ready to finish. Or so I thought. The first 4 miles was downhill, but the last couple were the biggest test of my heart.

Up and down, up and down, swallowing a mouthful of Skittles at the beginning of each climb (and I don’t even like Skittles all that much), I was surviving on candy-fed bursts of glucose to get me through. I kept thinking I must be close to the end. Over and over again. “Just one more hill.” And then, there was just one more hill.

After that last hill, there was something that my heart could never have imagined. I can’t spoil the surprise, you see, because I want you to join us in this Trailblaze mission, but we’ll just say that the “Wish Mile” filled my heart right back up. When I crossed the finish line that afternoon, I felt no pain. I only felt love. It was my heart I felt, not my feet.