36 hours of exhaustion

When I agreed to participate in Dance Marathon, I had no idea the 36 hours would test my limits so much. I've pulled plenty of all-nighters in the past to complete a last-minute paper or study for a final exam, and although I always feel exhausted from my lack of sleep, I nonetheless feel human.\nBut after 36 hours of standing and dancing in the School of Health Public Education and Recreation's gymnasium, the sheer exhaustion that penetrates every nerve in my body makes me feel like an alien from another planet. \nSo how can I explain Dance Marathon in a nutshell? In deciding how to do so, I originally wanted to explain the weekend chronologically, by the hour. But I have a poor conception of what time anything happened because I took off my watch off to make the time pass quicker. Had I the opportunity to glance at my wrist whenever I wanted to, I would have checked the time every 4.5 minutes and the marathon probably would have seemed twice as long.\nWe entered the gym by running through two lines of people cheering us on. I felt like a superstar Olympic athlete. After a few minutes of dancing, I realized the stage was filled with Riley children, the very ones who would benefit from our fund-raising efforts. Not even 15 minutes into the marathon I was crying, overwhelmed by the excited children on stage, shouting into the microphone for us to dance and sing along as "Eye of the Tiger" blared from the speakers.\nI learned my first lesson of the weekend as the Black family took center stage. Mrs. Black, a mother of Riley patient, reminded us not to complain about how much we have to stand up throughout the weekend -- she said we are blessed we can stand up because a lot of Riley children must use wheelchairs and don't have that option. \nSo put yourself in my shoes, which actually smell extremely bad after wearing them for so many consecutive hours, even though I did change my socks regularly. Friday night was the most difficult because of the many hours still ahead of us. The night sky as seen through the hazy glass windows of the gym made moving my body a challenge. I'm usually not standing by 3:30 a.m. on a Friday night.\nAfter surviving "boot camp" Saturday morning, the cool morning air intoxicated my lungs and muscles with new energy, and I was ready to rock to the morning musical acts. Who knew college students could muster the energy to mosh at 9 a.m.? The once dark hazy windows now allowed sunlight to filter in, telling my mind that moving made sense. As I looked around at the 700 dancers, I could see the determination to stay awake. \nBut by Saturday night, dancers were beginning to fade. Glossy-eyed people, drunk from exhaustion, walked around the gym, their slow saunter indicating their fatigue. At this point in the evening, I felt completely awake aside from the fact that my feet hurt, the burning sensation making standing in place absolutely impossible. Dancing, jumping and walking were all easier than standing still, for the movement kept my mind off of the intense pain. I escaped to the bathroom to sit down for a minute, even though I did not have to go.\nI also looked forward to my "eating time," not because I was hungry, but because eating allowed us an opportunity to sit. I have never appreciated the invention of the chair so much.\nWe received another opportunity to sit when several more Riley families spoke to the drained crowd. But the comfort of sitting was the farthest from my mind as these families and their children expressed their gratitude for our efforts. \nOne Riley patient wrote a letter addressing the dancers, which students read because she had lost her voice. She thanked us for dancing and said she considers us her guardian angels, which is such an honor for me. Here is this little girl who had been through so much pain ... my pain seemed so small in comparison. Tears rolled down my tired cheeks, but I wiped them away, motivated and ready for another round of entertainment and dancing. \nAs more of my friends looked so exhausted they would topple over if a slight breeze ran through the gym, I was still coherent and awake, though complaining about my extremely sore legs as if it were my job. \nAround 5:30 a.m., just two and a half hours before the end of the marathon, delirium set in.\nThe pain of standing was making me hallucinate, and I thought I was going to die. Not really, but maybe I did have a near-death experience and saw a white light. I'm not sure.\nDuring the 36th hour, the Morale Committee instructed us to form a circle around the perimeter of the gym. The huge circle illustrated our cooperative efforts to give hope and treatment to sick children. While the song "Angels Among Us" played, tears streamed down many of the faces of the tired but proud dancers, including mine.\nAfter counting down the last 10 seconds of the 36 hours, the song "We are the Champions" filled the gym as dancers cheered, elated at the thought of soon being able to sleep. Through my tears, I congratulated and hugged my friends, who were also crying. Our tears signified our pure exhaustion and craving for sleep, and our pride for overcoming the fatigue and completing the marathon that will help so many children to live.