Sometimes, One Person Is the Difference Between Winning and Losing

In second grade, my most beloved teacher taught the class I loved least. The irony was lost on me, since I was only six, but I am happy I was able to discern at a young age that great teachers and fun subjects don't always go hand-in-hand. I wish I'd had such clarity of thought in high school when calculus (which I initially loved) soon became a subject I feared, given that my teacher was a short, angry, ex-Marine who hated girls (by his own admission) and was named, of all things, Mike Grifone. (Say the two names together quickly.)

I digress.

Back in second grade, Mr. Scribner, my gym teacher, was a gem of a man. He was probably in his mid-to-late 60s, as he retired at the end of that year. (The gymnasium in my elementary school bears his name, to this day.) He was warm and kind, and he filled me with tremendous confidence.

I'll never forget one early autumn day in particular, when we trooped out to the big field behind our school to play tug-of-war. Mr. Scribner chose two of my classmates to be the captain of each team, and the captains then chose the two teams. Being the smallest and youngest in the class, as well as a recent transplant from Canada who still didn't know many people in the class, I was selected last, and I remember feeling sad about that.

Mr. Scribner arranged us on either side of the rope, and my side had one more person than the opposing side did. Mr. Scribner said, "On your mark! Get set!! Go!!!," and we began pulling. Back and forth, back and forth we went, until my side won! The other side was disappointed, and Mr. Scribner pointed out that the winning side had one more teammate than the losing side did.

At that point, he asked me to move over to the other team, and we once again pulled, back and forth, back and forth, until my side won again!! Mr. Scribner looked at me and smiled and said, "Sometimes, one person is the difference between winning and losing." I was over the moon, and I can still remember how proud I felt in that moment.

From time to time, people ask why I think I can make a difference in something as tremendous and fearsome as the battle against breast cancer. Some have suggested I'm egotistical, others that I'm foolhardy or just plain delusional to believe that participating in these long-distance walking events with the generous financial contributions of my family and friends can make a difference substantial enough to find a cure for this terrible disease.

I don't know that the miles I've covered or the support I've received from those I love will get me all the way to the day when a cure is found. But I do know that I'm several thousand miles closer and more than $30,000 closer than I was back in 2000 when I walked in my first 3-Day. And so, even though I'm just one person, I will continue moving forward and continue my steadfast efforts in this fight.

Sometimes, one person is the difference between winning and losing.