Day 3

Terrain: Road
Path: Brewster (Sea Camps) to Dennis (Wixon School) / Shuttle to Main St. Hyannis
Time: 3 hours
Mileage: 9.6 miles
Blister Count: 0

Saturday night Jill sternly warned me not to stay up all night writing. I’m glad I heeded her advice. I didn’t see 10pm that night!

We woke up in the morning and took our time getting ready. We had plenty of it. I slept well the night before, but Jill woke up a few times from the pain of her blisters. At one point she said her legs were even shaking from them. Ouch!


Jill was frustrated that her feet weren’t working for her, because she felt so great otherwise. She noted, however, this is something people with MS deal with on a regular basis, and saw it as therapy as opposed to misery. If I needed anymore motivation to finish the 50 miles, that was it.

Becky wasn’t sure Saturday night if she was walking because she was so sore. But a good night’s sleep was all she needed. She joined us in our room once she was ready.

Becky was just in time to witness my sister attacking me with mole skin. I had a hot spot on the bottom of my left foot. My left knee was sore from Saturday too. I think my knee was sore from compensating for the hot spot. Either way, Jill insisted I put mole skin on it.

I’ve never touched mole skin, never mind touch it. The name of it was enough to turn me off. I quizzed Jill on the makes of it. No, it’s not actually made out ‘mole’ skin. No, it doesn’t feel funny. Yes, you must wear it. I made her put it on me. I was too squeamish to do it myself, and almost too squeamish to let her do it. I kept pulling my foot away. Becky kept laughing.

We went to Bagels & Beyond again for breakfast and headed to the Sea Camps. We were hoping to catch Rachel, but she mentioned starting at 7:30. It was just after 7am and Becky wanted to hit the road. She said if she didn’t start early, she wouldn’t be able to do it.

Based on Saturday, I figured I’d start with Becky and then go at my own pace. I thought that Rachel and Becky might catch up with each other and I’d just go ahead to get it done. I was feeling good. But before the first mile was in, my moleskin was falling off my feet. I ripped it off and threw it away at the first stop. I didn’t even feel my hotspot anymore.

The news in the morning at the hotel was saturated with 9/11 memorials, testimonials, and videos. We had thought about wearing shirts or something as a team to mark the day, but decided not to in the end. I didn’t see much to do with 9/11 on the walk except at the first rest stop. They had decorated the stop patriotically and had posters to sign. One was to support the victims of recent local tornados, and the other was going to the Military as a thank you. It was very tasteful.

Before leaving the first stop one of the guys told us as we were exiting to watch our ankles due to all the street walking on this day. I asked Becky if she knew what he meant. She replied without hesitation that the alligators might attack our ankles while we walked. Smile. Nod. Keep walking.

Up the street Becky mentioned that somewhere (such an elusive word on a 50-mile walk) along the road was a Reggie look-a-like horse. It seemed we walked a while before finding him. He was almost on the last leg of the walk, after at least the first and second rest stops. But it all blends together now.

Aunt Irene and Baby A greeted us at the second rest stop. Baby A took a few steps with us and was very happy to see Becky. Aunt Irene mistook me for Rachel and asked where I was. After reintroducing with myself to my aunt, we parted ways with Aunt Irene and Baby A. We were almost done and could feel the end nearing.

We were going down hill when we spotted a sign ahead. Organic Manure. Before I could even comment about making manure organic, Farmer Becky was asking if it was horse or cow, and suggesting we sell some for a fundraiser. We decided it was horse based on their mailbox, and Becky explained that in order to be ‘organic,’ the horse must be fed naturally organic foods. We’d name our manure sales, Palmer’s Pals Poops. - and I can’t guarantee the organic-ness of it.

Cousin Jake called us as we were nearing the end. He and his fiancee Brooke were going to meet us at the school where we’d have lunch and relax for a bit. She explained to him the name of the school so he could find it. “It’s like ‘bison’ but with a ‘w’ and ‘x’ - wixon.” Uh-oh, the bison was back….

On the road up to the school, we finally found some Palmer’s Pals signage. My mother decorated a piece of the sidewalk with our names (all spelt right!) just in time to push us to the end.

A small crowd cheered us and gave us high fives and thank-yous as we turned into the school lot. It was surreal and didn’t seem like it was the end. Becky and I headed toward the school to check in and get our shirts. Jill met us outside in her fuzzy socks and slippers. She had just had a well-deserved massage by one of the therapists.

We picked up our blue shirts. Jill had already gotten her orange one and we picked a spot on the field to settle. Becky and I left Jill with our belongings and went out to the sidewalk to greet Rachel. As we were waiting, people kept asking Becky if she was ok. She was. It was good to see though that if she wasn’t, everyone was there willing and ready to help.

Rachel was easy to spot. Her hands were going a mile a minute. My mother had joined her at the last rest stop and walking with her. We caught up with them and all walked in together. This time there were more people at the finish cheering on everyone. It felt like more of a finish.

But it wasn’t over yet.

On the field at the school, we had a catered lunch and relaxed for a while. The DJ kept playing upbeat music to keep our muscles fresh. One song that seemed to be on repeat was “I Would Walk 500 Miles.” Finally it made sense - 10 years x 50 miles per year = 500 miles. See, we aren’t awful at math after all!

Once everyone, all 600+ walkers, safety teams, crew members, crossed the finish and had some lunch, we boarded school busses. The busses transported us to downtown Hyannis for the final ½ mile.

A sea of orange (for those with MS) and blue (supporters) streamed out of the busses and gathered on the sidewalk by the transportation center. We then moved like herded cattle along Main St. to the Village Green. The street was lined with all our families and friends cheering us on in gratitude and pride for our journey over the last three days.

Our family was easy to spot. The first one I saw was Captain, my Godmother’s dog. Then my father was on the step getting as tall as he could to get pictures with my sister’s boyfriend next to him pointing us out. My mother and Godmother, Beth, greeted us street side with flowers.

We progressed under the arch of orange and white balloons to the spot we started at on Friday. A few people in wheelchairs on the sidelines thanked us for walking, and I could see the sincerity in their eyes through their tears.

As the officials proceeded with the closing ceremonies, the team photo shoot began. We had to get our pictures taken in every which way and with everyone around us: my parents, Rachel, Becky, Jill, Jay, Robin, Declan, Patrick, Aunt Marylen, Aunt Mary, Aunt Irene, Baby A, Beth, Glen, and of course Captain.  

Before heading home, my father had to make sure I knew where I was going. He tested me by telling me to get on Rt 6 East. I told him, “No, West.” He smiled and nodded (must be where I get it…) and told me to follow the sun.

It was just afternoon and the sun was not arching west quite yet…

Thank you to everyone who supported us!! 50 miles closer to a cure!