When I returned home from the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer, everyone wanted to know how it went. It’s hard to explain to anyone who wasn’t there. My answer is simple: Amazing. Exhausting. Life changing.

After months of training, hundreds of miles on our feet and thousands of dollars raised, the Boobie Savers survived and thrived during the Avon Walk in Long Beach last weekend.

We walkers have many triumphs to report. First and foremost, no major injuries. This may not seem like much, but after last year’s debacles — wrapped knees, crazy shin splints and twisted ankles — I’m just excited we were all able to walk through the airport to get back home on Monday.

Next, we all completed our walks. Joanie, Peggy and Carol did what many can’t imagine doing: They walked 26 miles in a single day.

Meanwhile, on Day One three of our walkers, Cindy, Veronica, myself and our 14-week-pregnant Jenn, conquered our 13-mile route.

On Day Two, all of us made it through our 13 miles. Plus, with a little communication and a lot of enthusiasm, we even managed to cross the finish line together.

Our family and friends were amazing. I can’t speak highly enough about the men in our lives who drove through the middle of the night from Napa to Southern California just to cheer us on. And honestly, I can’t put into words the emotions I felt when I saw my grandma on Saturday holding a sign that said, “Thanks for walking for me, 10 year cancer-free.”

The world stops

At the closing ceremonies, the speakers pointed out that for two days we walkers lived in a perfect world: We walk, we learn, we smile, we cry, but ultimately, nothing much in the outside world affects us.

Then after the walk we tune back in realize the whole world has, indeed, gone on without us. Hurricanes are tearing down buildings, financial companies are collapsing.

I imagine this must be what it feels like to be diagnosed with cancer. I imagine the world comes crashing down around you.

During the event, a “connection ribbon” — a pink nylon ribbon to be draped over your neck — is distributed to a walker, crew member or volunteer every three minutes. That’s how often a woman is diagnosed with breast cancer in the United States.

By the end of opening ceremonies alone, seven ribbons had been handed out. At the closing of the two-day event, 650 ribbons represented the women who had been diagnosed during the time we walked.

That means 650 lives had been altered forever.

Two members of our team were “diagnosed with cancer” at the walk. Hillary, who in real life is a breast cancer survivor, woke up to a ribbon outside her tent Sunday morning. Cancer doesn’t rest when we do. Carol also received a ribbon Sunday.

It definitely made me take pause and think. One of these women has already battled cancer. The other is my best friend’s mom. If she were to be diagnosed in real life, the effect on me and the loved ones around me would be profound.

Moving forward

Each year at the walk, we get the opportunity to sign up for the following year’s event. As of the end of the walk, we had already signed up nine new or returning members for the Boobie Savers team.

So we’ll be in San Francisco in July for next year’s walk. That old Mark Twain line — “the coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco” — is true. Plus, those hills are ridiculous, but we’ll be ready for them.

As a team, we raised almost $15,000 this year through personal and group fundraising. Next year, we can do even better.

This year I made sure to get to know more people along the route. People say you can’t possibly feel alone on this walk, and it’s true. For one, you really are walking with thousands of other people. And if you try even a little bit, there are enough stories to keep you moving through the miles.

Barbara Jo Kirshbaum has completed 95 long-distance walks to benefit breast cancer research. As of last weekend, she has single-handedly raised more than $1 million.

On my 26-mile, two-day trek in Long Beach, I had the pleasure of walking next to her for a few moments.

Cindy and I let her know that she is our hero. Her response was poignant.

“As much as I may be your hero in this Avon world, you should realize that back in your community, in your town, you are their hero,” she said.

Hmm. I’ll have to remind my boss.

When it was all over, I didn’t feel like I went through that much. All I did was help raise $5 million along with the other 2,100 walkers that weekend. All I did was put on my tennies, and get out there and walk.

I didn’t go through cancer. I didn’t survive chemo. I hadn’t had operations to remove lumps or entire breasts.

One of the Avon saying is, “For two days, we walk as one.”

It couldn’t be more true.

For two days, I felt as though I understood what those patients had gone through. I walked with survivors, current patients, families of lost loved ones and some people who didn’t know anyone with breast cancer at all, but who somehow had been drawn into the experience.

Together, whether we were walkers, crew or the people who cheered us all on along the way, we helped the world come that much closer to a cure.

I walk because I can’t imagine walking away.

Choat is the copy desk chief for the Napa Valley Register. Contact her at mchoat@napanews.com