Five Hundred Twenty Five Thousand Six Hundred Minutes x 2

While editing old posts I decided that I really hated this one. It was super depressing and negative. I'll rework it and put it back.  For now, just enjoy the pictures from that post. 

Sweet and Sour

I recently took up walking.  That sounds stupid.  I guess I originally took up walking around 36 years ago.  To be honest, I was never very good at it.  It’s actually surprising that I have not spent most of my life in traction.  Well, as you know, my long run of good luck ended last spring.  To be fair, I wasn’t walking when I broke my ankle.  I fell going down a fireman’s pole.  As I was being carried out the basement on a stretcher by 6 EMTs one of them mentioned "There's a reason we don't have these in firehouses anymore....People get hurt." Great tip. 

After lots of physical therapy, complaining and hard work, I was again able to walk, with a walker. Later I graduated to a cane. Okay, I just stopped using my walker because I decided I didn't need it anymore and my physical therapist said that I had to at least use a cane. I put pink puffy bubble letters that read PIMP CANE down the front of it. The P kept falling off so instead it read IMP CANE. Then I had to keep explaining the joke to people. If you have to explain it, it's not as funny. A month or two later I was done with the cane. 

At Thanksgiving my sister gave me my birthday present, a fitband.  Happy Birthday, Fatty! Still, not as bad as that time our brother gave her Schindler’s List for Chanukah. That’s clearly a Yom HaShoah gift.

This particular fit band tracks calories, miles and steps.  I believe there is a tiny creature inside who survives only on steps and guilt. Every day it sets a number of steps as a goal for me to reach before bed.  If I don’t reach my goal one day, it lowers the goal for the next day.  Jason thinks that makes it a race to the bottom.  What he doesn’t realize is the power of the last and most compelling function of this brilliant little gadget. This shame shackle has a little red line that shows up when you have been inactive for too long.  Then more and more little red arrows appear until you eventually feel so ashamed that you end up walking in circles in your living room.   It’s like having your mom on your wrist.

Well, it works.  Sorry for being a jerk, Marla. It’s probably the best gift anyone has ever given me. My brother said it’s the gamification of exercise, and I guess that makes sense, even though that’s not a real word.  One day I started walking to make the red arrows go away and now I’ve been doing it almost every day for about five months. I’m like Forrest Gump, but a lot slower and less ambitious. Don’t be that impressed, I’m clocking on average a 20-minute mile.  Now you’re judging me for being slow.  Remember when my foot wasn’t attached to my leg? Just be impressed that I walk, but not too impressed.

When I’m not out wandering Northern Virginia, most of my time is devoted to reentering the workforce.  This is a complicated and time-consuming process when you work in politics, especially if you’ve been on the bench for a while.  However, until Ellen discovers me and hires me as her co-host I’ll have to keep looking. If you know anybody who might need a Becky, let me know.

Unfortunately the last 8 months haven’t been all networking coffees and spandex.  It turns out that cancer is still out there. A lot of people I love are still fighting cancer, including my mother.  I can’t even begin to talk about that here.

You know what’s worse than cancer? Kids with cancer.  Yup. Sorry to move the conversation to Bummer Becky’s Super Sad Party, but we’re going there. 

In 1989, at Jewish summer camp, I first met someone who has been a huge influence in my life ever since. He is one of my oldest, closest and dearest friends, even when we go years without speaking. He and his wife have three kids, the eldest a daughter who is about the age I was when I first met her dad.  

Her name is Maya, she’s 10 years old and she has cancer.  When she was 2 years old she had an unrelated case of kidney cancer.  Besides that, she’s like most little girls.  She loves her family, terrible shows on the Disney Channel, Taylor Swift, her friends and that same Jewish summer camp.  She also likes to make fun of her father, which makes me like her even more.

Maya does have one other thing most kids don’t have: two parents who are rabbis. On top of her friends from school and camp, family friends and friends of her parents, she has two congregations rallying to support her.  Initially she was inundated with gifts, which she says made her happy for a few days.  Soon she realized she wanted the resources to go elsewhere. 

This very thoughtful girl asked her supporters to donate to her virtual lemonade stand through Alex’s Lemonade Stand Foundation, a charity focused on fighting childhood cancer.  It makes her happy to see all of the donations people have made in her honor. I’m not sure how noble I was at 10 years old, but it was definitely way less noble than that. 

I always thought it was strange when I was sick that people would call me brave or courageous.  It’s not like someone said “Either you agree to have cancer or we kill these kittens.”  I had a disease and I didn’t want to die, so I did what my doctors said.  When things got hard or the pain became too much, I cried, complained, hid in my bed and considered giving up, acting anything but brave.  

A child who acts with dignity and grace when facing circumstances that make most adults weep, is brave.  A little girl enduring incredibly painful treatment who still finds humor and compassion and generosity is courageous and strong and all of the things we should all aspire to be as adults.

Maya is my new role model.  When people tell me that I’m not ready to go back to work, that I should take more time, I’ll think of Maya, going about her life while going through chemotherapy.  When people tell me that I shouldn’t push myself too hard,  I’ll think of Maya and put on my unbelievably embarrassing spandex and head out.

Many of you may know that I have spent most of my life avoiding unnecessary walking wherever possible.  I’ve often said I would only run if I was being chased.  That’s why we picked the Lorton Prison Dash as our first race.  Sunday, April 19, 2015 I will walk in my first 5K with Jason and some very supportive friends.  I want this walk to be about more than me proving I can do it.  That’s why I’m asking people to donate to Maya’s Lemonade Stand in honor of my walk.  Okay, there’s a reason I’m not in fundraising, but here comes my big pitch:

Prophet and human-size Latino roll-on deodorant, Pitbull, tells us that “Everybody’s going through something… but every day above ground is a great day, remember that.”  Pitbull is an idiot.  I do not think that any day above ground is a GREAT day.  Maybe it’s a good day. It’s definitely a day. 

However, any day you can put a smile on the face of a sick child who is selfless and kind is a great day.  

Want a great day? Make a donation.

As of posting this we are about halfway to our goal of $1000.  Please consider making a donation at

https://www.crowdrise.com/walkformayaslemonadestand/fundraiser/beckydansky

UPDATE 

By the time we crossed the finish line we had reached our goal!  We will continue to accept donations as long as you are willing to give.  Thanks again for all of the support and generosity!