
Each March, a ritual takes place for me. In the top drawer of my bureau sits a small yellow bracelet with LIVESTRONG imprinted on its faded exterior. I got the bracelet in 2004 and I refuse to ever get rid of it.
For most people, the whole LIVESTRONG bracelet trend has subsided along with their slap bracelets, hyper color t-shirts, and Pet Rocks. For me, the tired yellow latex will not only live strong, it will live forever.
This bracelet was on my wrist in my uncle's hospital room in the late winter of 2005. It was at his funeral. I had it on, a week later, when I broke down on the summit of Mt. Washington, confused, angry, and looking for answers. This is where Climb for Cancer Care was born - a typical Patrick-has-a-hair-brained-idea kind of moment. Who'd have thought this would be the one idea that would actually come to fruition?
My LIVESTRONG has faded from hundreds of hours of sweaty training. It has faded after each year, climbing in the higher elevations of the Pacific Northwest, basking in alpenglow and warm sunshine. In 2006, on top of Mt. Hood, I promised this wouldn't be a one-and-done ordeal. I had seen the positive effects Climb for Cancer Care created. In 2008, on the summit of Mt. Rainier, my bracelet was once again present. 2009, when C3 [somehow] got 17 climbers to the summit of Rainier in the name of my late uncle, my bracelet showed its resiliency yet again.
Today, my bracelet came out again - fittingly on the 5 year anniversary of uncle's passing. It's time to start training hard again. Mt. Hood and Mt. Rainier will once again be reacquainted with my priceless $1 yellow bracelet. And on the 4th of July, once home again with my wife and daughter, back it will go, into the same safe spot in the top drawer of my dresser, ready for its next adventure.