We built this city (on rubber soles)!

Most people reading this know that I spend my springs (and, increasingly, my summers) working with the Avon 2-day walk for breast cancer. People also know that I do this for primarily selfish reasons -- I've been blessed with a good family, health, access to and a great education, and very cute dog. These have put me in an amazing position, at this point in my life, too give back to the community for all the support given me. That's the reason I do the walks. Also, it had been an entirely positive experience for me - both on the crew (my normal place) and as a walker. None of the sore muscles, missing toe nails (um, gross), or the outrageous cost of quality socks have outweighed the intangible benefits of looking over the tent city at the end of Day 1 and the smiling faces within it. I've never focused on the money raised or what happens with it. After my initial look at the Avon Foundation and finding that it's a reputable organization, I focused on more immediate aspects of their needs. The Walk, for example.

However, I gained another reason this weekend. I went to an event called "The Great Start Party," which is a kick-off for the season that allows participants to meet up again, helps raise awareness for the event, answer questions, and get people registered to participate. This year, for the Denver walk (ahem, it's June 23-25th - an important weekend for at least one other reason) it was at the University of Colorado Cancer Center. This center was opened in 2000 and is in Aurora, Colorado. I pulled into the parking lot and looked around at the building. Patients and families were entering and exiting the building, nodding toward the giant trailer that has been converted to a mobile mammogram station to diagnosis and treat people who can't make it to the hospital. The Avon Foundation logo was what caught my eye, and I thought, "oh, we built this."

Later in the afternoon, I toured a lab largely funded by the Avon Foundation. Reserved scientists showed us how they use tumors (also donated) to study breast cancer - what causes it, how to treat it, and how to stop it. Among them, I saw a histologist (a cell specialist) identifying cancer cells in a tumor (there is also fat and other stuff) and selecting and highlighting those cells. Then, pressing a button that fires a laser, she melts the cancerous cells into another slide. She can then use that slide, with only cancer cells, and using findings from the human genome project (The Human Genome Project!) try to identify the physical manifestations of the cancer that might help them know how to design a treatment. She said that the problem with many current treatments is that they attack not only cancer cells, but also other rapidly regenerating cells that are just doing their job -- such as skin (constantly regenerating) and stomach (I'm glad those are regenerating all the time, given what I eat). For that reason, you get hair loss and upset stomach (although when I referred to it that way in a question, a survivor laughed at my euphemism) with cancer treatments. This woman's work could identify a treatment that doesn't cause all the side effects that we see today. Think for a second about what that means!

I'm certainly not saying that the Avon Foundation is responsible for all the progress that scientists have made on treating and curing cancer, nor that I am a big part of the Foundation's money-raising effort. I am saying that I am a building block - and a bunch of us together build hospitals, labs, and other research and treatment facilities. I didn't realize it until I was standing there, but it's been there, doing it's work whether or not I know it's there - but not if I (and a lot of other people) decide not to show up for the Walk.

So I ask this: When you see the pink circus (as I call it, sometimes lovingly and sometimes with a hint of irritation) remember that it is about many things: my giving back, achievements for the walker or crew member who is a survivor, memorials for those we've lost, practical monies for actual buildings, labs, and scientists - all of these offering hope for a (breast) cancer free future.

Stock Show!

Today I went down to the 100th annual National Western Stock Show to do some time volunteering for a work booth and then hit the rodeo. Honestly, I wasn't that excited about it - lots of work, dirt, whatever. However, what happened to me today at the show. I got to do some significant people watching and help people understand something that I think is really important (my work). I stood there watching people thinking about the 100 years of history and Colorado heritage that the show represents and propagates.

As an immigrant and a member of a family of mixed descent, I have always been a little apprehensive to talk about my culture and background. Not because I'm not proud of my family and our history, but it's so mixed that it's always been hard to identify a single something to point to. What I realized today is that the 19 years that I spent in Colorado growing up is my heritage - it is my culture. It was amazing to stand there and feel so at home with people selling feed, western wear (boots!), livestock and other things that farms and ranchers need that I have no clue about. Every time I looked up from my post I thought I could catch a quick glimpse of the scene 100 years ago in same place. Other than the booths marketing GPS tracking for herds, I'm convinced not much has changed.

The next stop, the rodeo, was another example of this. It was 2.5 hours of bronco riding, mutton bustin', barrel riding, cattle roping, and a mix of other things that I had no idea were done on the farm. It was 2.5 hours in which I remembered that this is the world I grew up in. Sure, I grew up in the suburbs, but it was still Denver, still and always, a cow town. A great Cow Town.

There is something else, too. I wasn't entirely comfortable with the whole Stock Show thing. I'm not that comfortable with the wrestling of cattle to the ground, or much of the political commentary that I overheard from my booth perch. There are two sides to everything.

Milestone

It's happened, people, the game is over. Jack's war on cashmere is officially "mission accomplished." Tonight, he finished off my last cashmere piece of clothing. Apparently, my cute pink hat fell victim while I was doing the dishes and he was, well, bored, I guess. In short, I'm cashmere free. Somewhere in my ideal minimalist lifestyle, I should be excited to be freed of my cashmere addiction. The truth is, however, I already miss the hat, and I haven't even had an occasion to miss wearing it yet. I'm back to my favorite fleece hat for the morning walk - unless he decides to move onto that in his next unattended moment.

Who will train this out of control beast?

I've spent the time since my last post interviewing trainers of all shapes and sizes for Jack. I had no idea the world I was entering into: tens of methods provided by hundreds of trainers. That's just my hometown! So I interviewed, met, chatted with, and in general trotted Jack out for introductions. I've finally chosen one, an he goes to school at the end of the month. I chose a somewhat touchy-feely training group, that is more about teaching me to talk to him instead of me screaming, yanking, or hitting (yes, there is a school of training for that, too) him. I never thought I'd be all hippie when it came to improving my relationship with Jack-o, but when it came down to it, I'm all about the supportive and softie love that nurtures learning. If all goes as planned, he and I will be communicating like telepaths by Valentine's day. I'll keep you posted.