It is the most incredible fall day outside the Clarington Fire Hall for our 3rd Annual Fire Truck Pulling for Epilepsy event. There is a flood of purple surrounding a bright red fire truck. The premise is simple; which team of ten can pull this truck 100 feet the fastest.
First up, The CRCS-DKI Team. It is hard to ignore the youth and exuberance emanating from this team. From the moment the countdown finishes, until the truck crosses the finish line, feet are dug into the ground, hands are tightly gripping the rope, and encouraging yells are shouted, "Pull, keep pulling!" In less than 19 seconds, CRCS-DKI's team of ten have pulled a 20 ton fire truck 100 feet.
One week from today I will be standing at the rim of the Grand Canyon with 14 of my friends, old and new. We will take that first step into the Canyon together, becoming part of each other's histories. The Climb day seemed like it was so far off for so long, but now all of the sudden it is here.
As I sit here, thinking about what to write for my first ever Guest Blog, I am overwhelmed with many feelings: excitement that the trip is almost here, fear that the hike is a week away but most of all, I am full of gratitude. And I think maybe the best use for this blog is to share my gratitude with you all.
Today was our final 'Celebrity Walk' at the Abilities Centre before we leave for the Grand Canyon. Our team is excited with only 13 more big sleeps until the event.
I arrived at the track on a crisp cool morning eager to complete most of my 24,000 steps before our guests arrived.
When I first heard about the Epic Climb, there were so many thoughts running through my head about why I had to be a part of this adventure. Not only was this initiative going to raise epilepsy awareness to new heights, but it would also give me a chance to prove my own strengths and successes living with epilepsy, and cross 'visit the Grand Canyon' off of my bucket list –it appeared to be the perfect trifecta! There was only one thing I hadn't considered...my poor feet.
It's Tuesday morning at 9:20. My phone rings. "Dianne, I just received a phone call from Scott's principal at school (Scott has epilepsy, has just moved to town with his family, and can no longer attend his previous specialized school). He has to leave the school by Friday! What should I do?" There are no words that can convey the pain and exhaustion I hear in this mom's voice. My heart just aches for her. I can hear that she has been crying and there is fear in her voice.