Like my blogger friend Kristina Collins, I too just attended a Making Strides Against Breast Cancer kick-off. Kristina's New Jersey event was a breakfast. My Florida event was a dinner. It wasn't the meal that mattered, though. What matters is the enthusiasm, the spirit, the inspiration that flows through the rooms where these gatherings take place.

My kick-off celebration featured a delicious and healthy meal, a slide show of the pink-shirted crowds that assembled for last year's 5K event, a mini lesson on the topic of breast cancer, a presentation from a 27-year old wife and mother of three who has survived breast cancer for one year, and a reminder that now is the time to start raising funds for the big day -- October 20, here in Gainesville.

I went to this dinner with my husband, sat with two oncology nurses who form a fundraising and walking team each year, and choked back the emotion that wells up in me when I'm part of such a powerful group.

This morning I attended the kickoff breakfast for the Making Strides Against Breast Cancer walk being held October, 28th in Ocean City, New Jersey.

Making Strides Against Breast Cancer is a noncompetitive walk to help fight breast cancer and provide hope to people facing the disease. Your participation will support the American Cancer Society's lifesaving research, prevention, early detection, and support programs for thousands of patients and their families.

I learned today that Making Strides is more than just a walk -- it is the amazing progress that is being made to defeat breast cancer. This is truly an inspiring event!

Check out Making Strides for Breast Cancer walks in your area -- here.

I am in a slump. I feel tired and slow and unmotivated. And ever since October 14 -- when I ran in the 5K Making Strides Against Breast Cancer event -- I can't seem to find the inspiration to exercise. I am making myself do it -- here and there -- but my usual drive and push and spunk are missing. Typically, I crave exercise and feel lethargic if I don't accomplish some sort of daily physical challenge. But for the past week or so, I have no craving, no desire to walk or run or lift weights, no appetite for my usual fitness routine. I am just plain tired.

Fatigue is a common side effect of cancer treatment -- even years after treatment ends, according to some experts. So perhaps my drop in energy and enthusiasm is due to the cumulative effect of my own treatment for breast cancer that just ended in June. My treatment spanned almost two years. Maybe it's no surprise my body is lagging behind my expectations for physical health.

Experts also say exercise helps combat fatigue. I believe this -- it's why I usually like exercise. It boosts my adrenaline, perks me up, makes me feel alive. If only I could get back into the swing of things, these feelings might come flooding back. But right now, I am not even thinking about how to find my old groove. I am just too tired.

Kim Taylor is a 45-year-old single mother who lives in Suwannee County, Florida and is proud to have successfully raised one daughter -- a graduate of the University of Florida. Kim enjoys outdoor activities like camping as well as sewing, crafting, and carpentry projects. She is most at peace spending time with her family, working as a youth volunteer -- and raising awareness for breast cancer. It's a interest she acquired just two years ago, compliments of a personal encounter with the disease that has taught her to let the little things go, to appreciate every sunrise, to make every moment matter.

I am in awe at this very moment, after receiving a generous donation -- from a friend I have not seen in nearly five years -- for the Making Strides Against Breast Cancer 5K Walk I plan to run in less than two weeks. I am not in awe simply because of this one donation. I am in awe of the combination of generous donations I have received over the past two months. My grand total right now -- headed for my local American Cancer Society team and earmarked for use in my own city -- is $3,808. My goal is $4,000.

I don't take any credit for this large sum of money that will earn me recognition on the day of the event. I merely reached out to friends and family and they delivered. Day after day, donations as high as $250 flow my way -- and while the American Cancer Society and cancer patients in North Florida stand to profit because of my giving support network, it occurs to me that I may be the biggest winner to cross the finish line. Me -- one woman, one cancer survivor, with one inspiring crowd rallying to support -- me.

It doesn't matter what I do on the day of the race -- although I do hope to accomplish my personal physical challenge -- because I have already done what I set out to do. I raised funds for a fabulous cause. And I gained a little something -- well, a big something -- in the process. I witnessed the wonder of overwhelming kindness. And for that, I am nothing less than grateful.

Adriene Hughes was diagnosed with breast cancer shortly after her 44th year of living. She found her lump after participating in a 5K walk, which for some reason, caused her breast to swell. The swelling led her to the lump -- and that's how she discovered her cancer. Adriene lives in Southern California, works as a media specialist, and spends her time taking photographs, knitting, and baking cookies and breads.

I have never met Adriene, have never spoken with Adriene. But we have communicated through our on-line journals and through e-mail ever since November 2004 -- when we each received a breast cancer diagnosis that changed the course of our lives forever.

Adriene is a gem, a treasure, a true inspiration. And here are her words.

I just read a breast cancer survivor's commentary about the color pink -- about how she hates pink, is sick of seeing pink, is tired of companies capitalizing on the breast cancer color in order to sell products. She calls the color wimpy and too feminine -- and while she accepts that she may just be grumpy about this topic, she is not too happy that pink is the color that symbolizes a serious disease. She would have preferred red or purple, colors that signify strength and power. But pink is what we've got -- and I happen to be okay with it.

I'm okay with pink because I like the color. I'm okay with it because it's recognizable -- and there can't be too many people out there who don't know that pink and breast cancer go hand in hand. To me, the color itself raises awareness. If I buy a pink vacuum cleaner and am reminded of the words breast and cancer each time I suck up dirt from my carpet, then I'm in the loop -- even if minimally. And if it prompts me to check my own breasts or schedule a screening appointment, then I benefit. I'm not sure a green vacuum cleaner would have the same effect. And when I wear my new Key to the Cure t-shirt -- with a pink ribbon gracing the front -- and someone inquires about the shirt, I will have an opportunity to spread some words about breast cancer. Pink doesn't have to be wimpy. It can be powerful.

There are surely companies out there taking advantage of the color pink because it sells. But if sales truly benefit breast cancer research, then it's a win-win situation in my opinion. I am happy that $31 of my $35 t-shirt goes directly to breast cancer initiatives. Sure, the shirt was a bit expensive. But so is breast cancer -- and I have the bills to prove it -- so if simply buying a pink ribbon t-shirt allows me to walk around as a billboard and allows breast cancer research some more momentum, then I am game.

I will wear my new shirt when I run in the Making Strides Against Breast Cancer 5K event in two weeks. And I will wear a bright pink ribbon in my hair. And I may even wear pink shorts. Because I think pink is empowering. And I'm happy it's everywhere -- because it illustrates that breast cancer is everywhere. And that is not okay.

I just ran three miles on my treadmill. I have never been the athletic one in my family. My sister is the one who was born with the athletic streak -- she played softball and lettered in tennis after giving the sport a try with no previous experience and may have helped her high school basketball team win a state championship if it weren't for the major knee injury she suffered just before the big game. I, on the other hand, was born with a streak that has something to do with hair, nails, and lots of shoes. I was never interested in sports, gym shorts, or sweating -- which is what makes running three miles a big deal for me.

I wish I had started running long ago -- because I really like it. I like the loud music that pumps through my MP3 player and the change in my cadence as each new song begins. I like the motivation of knowing I'm pushing my body and accomplishing a physical challenge. I like that my endurance improves with each mile I travel. I like the mental release and the thoughts that run through my head and the cleansing effect I get from running. And I like sweating.

It's possible running would not have appealed to me long ago, even if I had given it a try -- because times were different long ago. I was healthy. I was happy. And I had no reason to marvel at the possibilities of my body. Without a natural impulse for physical fitness and challenge, I was completely satisfied with the status quo. But now I have an acquired impulse -- because cancer has threatened the very body I once took for granted. And I want it to be strong. I want it to be healthy. I want it to stand up to any possible threat. So I run. And when I am not running, I look forward to running.

In just a few weeks, I will run in the 5K Making Strides for Breast Cancer event with my athletic sister. I will run by her side. With my loud music for motivation. With the inspiration that I am making a difference for my body and for women everywhere. With my gym shorts on. And a ball cap covering my hair. With sweat dripping down my face. I can't imagine a better feeling.

Beginning today, these words will be broadcast on various local Gainesville radio stations. These words are about breast cancer, about raising money for this serious disease, about Making Strides Against Breast Cancer, about the American Cancer Society. These words are about me. These are my words.

I'm Jacki. I'm someone you know. I'm a mother of two young sons, a wife, a sister, an aunt, a daughter, a friend. I am a freelance writer and a preschool teacher. I like to exercise and scrapbook and watch my little boys enjoy life's simple pleasures. I like pedicures, massages and candles. I'm 36 years old. I'm someone you know -- but I'm not alone.

I was diagnosed with breast cancer almost two years ago. And the American Cancer Society was instrumental in my recovery. I was comforted by their cancer programs and events, soothed by volunteers who called me at home to lend an ear, and educated by American Cancer Society literature and resources.

Join me for our Making Strides Against Breast Cancer walk on Saturday, October 14th, at the North East Park in Gainesville at 7:30 a.m. to help fund breast cancer research. Visit www.cancer.org or call 1-800-ACS-2345 to learn how you can become involved. Because someone you know has breast cancer. I'm someone you know -- I'm a breast cancer survivor -- and with the American Cancer Society, I'm not alone.

After my breast cancer diagnosis, I received endless offers from friends and family who offered to help me. I was offered meals, babysitting, errands, escorts to appointments, and two faraway friends even told me they would hop on a plane in an instant to come stay with me. I accepted a tiny bit of help -- like a meal here and there and a morning of babysitting -- but I really did not want much assistance. Mostly because I am do-it-myself type of person and however unhealthy this can be -- especially in the midst of a health crisis -- I wanted my life to remain as normal as possible. And if that meant taking care of my kids, despite nausea and fatigue, I wanted to do it. I wanted to be the one in the driver's seat on my way to treatments and procedures. And I wanted to run my own errands. Part of me believed that accepting help meant I was really sick. And I couldn't admit that. Yet it was true. I was sick. I needed help.

And I need help now too -- while I am healthy and strong and able to do everything for myself. And maybe that's why I am able to ask for it -- because it doesn't require my confession that something in my life is not alright. And actually, asking for this type of help helps me express that I am really okay, that I am able to use my health to help others.

I have committed myself to only one breast cancer fitness event at the moment. I hope to one day branch out a bit and walk and run in different festivities, in different cities, for different purposes. But for now, Making Strides Against Breast Cancer -- sponsored by the American Cancer Society -- is my cause. Last year was my first time participating in Making Strides. I raised about $3,500 to help fund research, education, advocacy, and patient services -- and I walked the average five mile course that wound me through a quaint neighborhood in my city of Gainesville, Florida. This year, I plan to raise even more money and to run the same course. But not yet. The walk does not take place until October 14 -- which leaves me plenty of time to work on my fundraising goal and my running goal and plenty of time to help kick off this year's Making Strides.

I received my official Making Strides Kickoff invitation in the mail today -- an invitation to attend a dinner celebration where I can learn about the latest in breast cancer news from leaders in my medical community, listen to an inspirational personal story from a breast cancer survivor, and learn more about early breast cancer detection. So my calendar is marked for August 22 when I will attend this party-of-sorts that will jump start a major event in the major fight against breast cancer -- the disease that will one day touch the life of everyone is some way. Like it has already touched mine.

Most of us know her as Elyse Keaton on the long-time ago sitcom Family Ties. Many also know her from the variety of characters she has portrayed on television specials and movies. And Meredith Baxter is also known for her support of breast cancer research -- something not so apparent or obvious but just as significant in the scope of her life in the spotlight. Like many issues she speaks out on -- women's rights, gun control, state legislative matters -- breast cancer is an issue about which she is passionate. She has appeared at Making Strides Against Breast Cancer walks and presented gifts to the cause of breast cancer research and has starred in the 1994 television movie My Breast -- about a woman who successfully battles breast cancer. And she also has her own Meredith Baxter Foundation for Breast Cancer Research which began when she donated $10,000 to the University of Minnesota Cancer Center where her foundation was started. Much of the funding for this foundation comes from Baxter herself via the profits she makes from her own skin care products that are available in gift stores around the country. She says that life has been so kind to her that she was looking for a way to share her good fortune. So she took her concern about breast cancer prevention into the business arena. And just as she soared to success as one of the best-known TV moms, Meredith Baxter is soaring to new heights -- where she hopes to help prevent and one day cure breast cancer.