Don't Stare...it's rude..

The simple task of shopping has turned into a study of society. Granted, I certainly expect a degree of stares..who wouldn't stare at a bald women with a seriously pale skull letting it all out there for the world to see.

I found the experience at Applebee's most interesting. Michael and I popped in there after a training walk (which the last 3 miles felt like a very modern version of the Bataan Death March - heat, humidity, no shade after 8 miles of some shade, humidity, and a slight breeze) to grab some lunch before hitting our other errands. The greeter didn't even bat an eye - cool. We were paraded off to a corner and seated. Our server swiftly brought us our wine and food, and after I scarfed down an entire order of Chili Cheese Nachos myself (such a piglet I can be) we were ready to go. Michael left his wallet out in the car, and I went to get it. I got up and proceeded to the door, passing by a corner table of 6 adults and 2 little kids. Without glancing at them I went to the door, but could literally feel their stares - like laser beams following me to the exit.

I got to the car, grabbed the wallet, and was passed by a vehicle who honked and gave me a thumbs up - that was quite cool, actually. Of course, he may not have been honking at me or doing the thumbs up for me since I certainly wasn't the only person in the parking lot...but, hey...I will revel in my own thoughts on that.

As I entered back into the restaurant, the greeter welcomed me again, and I walked past that infamous table of 6 adults, looked the eldest in the eye and gave an abbreviated nod. Michael looked at me and said "They were staring at you". I told him "I know...I could feel it." We finished up, and got up to leave...having to walk past THE table again. This time, as I walked by the table the entire group stopped chewing, and with heads lowered, eyes all simultaneously raised upwared and followed me.

I guess I just wondered what they were thinking. Perhaps I should have just sat down next to them and asked what at what they were looking so intently. Hindsight, I guess.

I think about the fact that this is my choice to do this, and remember that for many, it's not really a choice. I did not go bald to garner donations (however if you would like to donate click on the link on the upper right hand corner), I did this to get a better perspective of a different path of my life. So, I will keep it covered a bit in certain situations and when in not-frequented-by-us establishments.

Today, to our grocery store, which we visit at least twice a week, and know most of the staff....I kept it covered. Not because of the staff, or the shock on their faces...but because of the clientele. It is a grocery store with a majority of the shoppers are of proud Hispanic heritage, where doing what I have done, as my friend Dalia told me today, would make me look "ugly". I was kind of taken aback by that statement.

What defines beautiful and what defines ugly? In some cultures and in some age groups, a full head of thick strong hair makes a woman beautiful. In other cultures, a full figured woman with very short hair is classified as beautiful. And in our society as a whole...a woman's hair, by virtue alone, defines status, beauty, desirability, and success.

Bald can be beautiful. Bald can be stong, and courageous, and brave. It's time our society embraces it.

Memorial Day

As a former member of the military, I always find myself remembering people from training, from my unit in Colorado (shout out to Fort Collins 244th Combat Engineering Battalion!) and my friends that have served or have family currently serving. I sometimes wonder, had I re-enlisted, where would I be now?

I loved being in the military - many people joked that I was just a weekend warrior, as a Reservist, I wasn't really a soldier. But I always knew that if my unit was activated for Desert Storm, I would go like every other soldier. I did my Basic Training and Advanced Training at Fort Dix, New Jersey. It was definately a culture shock at first, but I found that the structure and routine worked for me. My parents used to joke that I wouldn't survive Basic Training and referenced the movie "Private Benjamin". I thought differently, and inundated myself the week before I left for training with movies like "Patton" and "Full Metal Jacket".

I remember my introduction to my Drill Sergeant (DS Armstead). He was all of 5' tall, thin as a rail, and thinking..."Really? This guy?". Then...he started yelling. Loudly. And he introduced me to the Iron Cross (stand straight with arms stretched out from your sides. Do not let your arms droop. Continue to stay in this position until he decides he is tired...which could border on forever) and to the classic push up...yea...this guy could be a bad ass.

Because of him, I learned to push myself farther than I thought I could. He taught me to believe in my own strength and convictions. He taught me to be strong. He made me want to dream bigger, reach further, and strive harder. He made me a better person, and for that I thank my Drill Sergeant.

I reflect on my time with my Reserve Unit, the 244th, often - from the ARTEP in South Dakota to the 2 week training in Socorro, New Mexico, to the drill weekends just at Fort Collins. It was always fun, always challenging, and always filled with great comraderie. I miss those guys (and I mean that seriously...100 soldiers at the unit....4 women)

So, wherever you are Stackhouse and Elizalde and Frisch and First Sergeant, I honor you for serving our country. Wherever you are Drill Sergeant Armstead...thank you.

"A hero is someone who has given his or her life to something bigger than oneself." — Joseph Campbell

Happy Memorial Day!

Training walk...9 miles, 11 miles, who knows!

Today we - and when I say "We" I mean me, my husband and our dear friend Jen, who is referred to lovingly as Auntie Jen - did a 9.4 mile training walk at one of the Forest Preserve trails on the southwest side of the city and finished at probably more like 11 miles. That's not a bad thing...just when the temperature hit something like 96F?...not so much fun. "Are we there yet?" came to mind on more than one occasion.

I love Auntie Jen. We met her on some small training walks last year at Vollmer Trail (like I-57 south just past I-80...I want to say the area is Mattson? Not for certain). Jen is a total dog lover. I am an animal lover. Instant connection. She has an psycho smart Australian cattle dog. We have a psycho smart Austrailian cattle dog (so glad that means Malena is actually normal). Definate connection. We call Jen "Auntie Jen" because we took Millie, our pit bull/beagle/maybe a pinch of boxer mix Millie on training walks with us. Millie is just a bouncy 90-pound lovey dog, and Jen fell in love with her. So, Millie became our training walk mascot, dressed with her 3 Day buff and pink collar. Jen is just cool. Great to chat with, great to joke with, great to bounce ideas off of, great to just hang out with - love love love Jen.

Jen is walking the San Diego Marathon next weekend for the Wisconsin Team in Training, so this walk was a good last long walk until her event. This was a good long walk for us too, however...after a few hours the novelty wore off, the heat set in, the water didn't stay cool, and the desire for air conditioning was high. At one point, Michael's pedometer had 8 miles, and that was about 3 miles from our start. By the time we ended...the pedometer read 0.76 miles. WTF??? So, I am guestimateing at the mileage, but feel pretty good stating about 11.

Mental note. Bring more than 1 bottle of water on a walk like this. Maybe entertain the idea of bringing something to eat. (went to Applebees' after and I personally sucked down an entire appetizer portion of nachos. Yum...but...uggghhh...but YUM!!)

Technical note? Perhaps I need new sneakers. I wore my favorite pair - I purchased them in 2004 for the Chicago Marathon, wore them again for the 2005 marathon, did 2 of the 3 days walking 2 3Day events, and now am doing training walks in them. My feet hurt a bit after a walk...maybe I need new sneakers? ARRRGGGG...I hate breaking in new sneakers.

Recap of the day? Overall excellent. Except the heat. Well on my way for training... but glad to be indulging in a glass of wine and air conditioning.

Going...going...gone

I got a wild hair (no pun intended) to just shave the hair off today. My ever so loving and patient husband dusted off the clippers for the 3 part shave - buzz it, trim it...shave it.

Liberating...truly liberating.

Now, if I can only get a little sun on this very very pasty scalp of mine!

Memorial Day Weekend

Today, is the official start to summer...at least that's what all the radio stations here are saying. Parades, running events, and all the neighbors seem to have brought out their barbeques...okay...including us.

This is THE weekend - I have decided to shave the head. My head. Cue-ball bald. For no other reason than just to observe the world around me seeing a radical change. Some that I have discussed this with think I am doing it as a fundraiser. Well, if you want to donate to me because of it, I certainly will not stop you (you can visit my page at www.the3day.org/goto/baldnbeautiful to make a donation in any denomination)

I did this before, in 2008...in January. But, I did this because there was an ad on Craiglist looking for woman who wanted to shave their head. The gentleman who did it made videos for hair shows on a global scale, and was happy to shave my shoulder length hair...and gave me $500.00 to do so. The money went right to my Chicago 3 Day accound, but I probably should have done some forward planning. January. Chicago. No hair. Not smart.

This time...the goal is to raise awareness for the event. An amazing gal in Cleveland, Tina, designed a tattoo that will be done on the back of my head. Yes, I said tattoo, as in permanent. I plan to keep the look until the end of the Denver walk, for now...that means September 1.

Sometime, a few months ago, as I was doing a training walk with the Woodfield Posse, this whole idea came to mind. Of course, at the time, I was in hopes of raising $10,000 from our fundraiser. We were a little shy of that - okay, $7,000 shy - but I am not waivering in the decision to do so. I think it will be an interesting study in society and its acceptance.

The clippers are out...now to just get it done!

Welcome...

My name is Monica Schulze-Langowski, and Denver 2010 will represent my 10th walk since 2004. I have only walked twice (Michigan 2007 and Denver 2009) but have been literally married to the Chicago Gear and Tent gang since 2004. This year, along with crewing Chicago, I am traveling to Denver to be part of their Pit crews, and will walker-stalk Cleveland beside my husband.

I became involved in the 3 Day almost by accident. After moving to Chicago with my husband from Los Angeles, we were looking for a multiday event to do together. He always waxed poetic about the California AIDS rides and how great and life changing the events were. Well, there was no multiday AIDS ride here, but he stumbled upon the 3 Day. We signed up for Gear and Tent, and did the event. It was hard - that was the year there were dual camps, and in our case, dual relocations. Lots of rain and mud and tired angry walkers yelling at us, and more rain. Oh, did I mention it rained? I found the experience...well...exhausting. I met lots of people, some who had been affected by breast cancer, and was satisfied that I did my philanthropic duty for the year.

That December, my husband and I dutifully sent out our holiday letters to friends and family, telling of our summer adventure. A few weeks later, I received a letter in the mail from my grandmother in Germany, hastily written in broken English that in 1973, she had a double mastectomy. My jaw hit the floor....I was not aware that this ever happened. I immediately called my parents and asked why this was not ever mentioned. In typical German denial, my father simply states..."she had it. Now she doesn't. End of discussion. We didn't feel like it was important". Jaw...floor...again.

I looked at my husband and said..."sign us up again".

What we did that summer all of a sudden had a personal investment. Now I understood, now...I wanted to do more. Six years later...I am still at it, and every year become more and more attached to this event.

So, of course when Denver came available as a new city, my husband and I signed up to walk together, because this is where we originally met. We kind of trained - certainly not nearly as much as we should have - but I am proud to say that I had the full walker experience - knee problems, a visit to sports medicine, a ride in a sweep van on Day 3, being the last walker in to closing, a trip to the emergency room for 7 hours because of severe dehydration (oh, my very bad...) and some of the most amazing new friends along the way. Denver probably changed me even more that the other events, because of the intimacy of the walk, everyone eagerly shared their journeys with each other and at the end of it...almost everyone knew everyone else.

This year promises to be filled with amazing journeys and tales of inspiration and loss. I wouldn't trade it for anything, because today, we are one day closer to finding a end to breast cancer.