healthy1

I have happily decided to participate in the annual “Walk for MS”, sponsored by the National Multiple Sclerosis Society. My husband and daughter will be joining me as well. The walk will take place in May - perfect walking weather. Nice.

I reach out to family and friends for donations to help find a cure for MS. Much to my surprise, I raise close to $1,000.00. I am thrilled. You really do feel like a new person when you are part of a good cause and do something positive, not just for yourself, but for others. Nice.

I am amazed at how many people turn up the day of the walk. It is so touching. It meant the world to me, as I’m sure it did to everyone else there afflicted by this disease. Here it is, a picture perfect Saturday, and these good people are all part of the Walk for MS. Nice.

I find out that after the walk, Subway will be providing free food for everyone, and several massage therapists are on hand to offer free chair massages, reiki, and Thai massage. Oh man, does it get any better than this? Nice.

It is a five-mile walk, but not everyone will be able to complete it. Volunteers are stationed at the halfway mark, giving out bottled water and fresh fruit. Nice.

My husband and daughter complete the five-mile walk with me, although I must say, they are lagging a bit. I have to laugh, point this out to them, and pat myself on the back as I do. I feel terrific today and so very proud. As I reach the finish line, I feel a smile come on that I cannot control, reaching from ear to ear. I am beaming. Exhausted, I make a beeline (well…what is left of me; in my mind it was a beeline) towards the Thai massage therapist. (Thai massage is done fully clothed while you lay down on a mat on the floor.) I was gently pushed, pulled, stretched, Z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z, oh sorry, and soothingly rocked back and forth. I thought I died and went to heaven. Nice.

I know I will never forget this day and plan on being part of Walk MS for the rest of my life. I am so thankful that I am walking - what a gift…what a gift. Nice.

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