Some people thought I was crazy for wanting to dance for 30 hours. Until a week before, I had never even worked out.
To be honest, a part of me thought I was crazy, too.
But after actually experiencing Dance Marathon as a dancer on behalf of my sorority, Sigma Lambda Gamma, I now think those who don’t try this at least once are the crazy ones. Despite nearing complete exhaustion at times, fueling my drive was the realization that my experience would have a greater meaning beyond just the accomplishment of staying awake for 30 hours.
My initial excitement at running onto the dance floor and hearing the first strains of “Stayin’ Alive” prevailed through the next few hours, all the way through “Just Married,” when my partner, Consuelo Martinez, and I put on bridesmaid dresses. Those were cute, but satin is definitely not the most breathable fabric.
When we got tired, the partner still awake would grab the other’s hands and move her to the music. But even though I was most looking forward to the “Rockin’ With Reagan” segment featuring ’80s music, the exhaustion started to overtake my entire body during that period.
Although the 90-second shower I took at 5:30 a.m. dissolved the exhaustion in my limbs, it could not change the general feeling of sleepiness that had begun to pervade my mind.
While waiting for breakfast – being No. 261 meant lingering until the end to get our bagel and apples – I fell asleep while Purple Haze sang Alicia Keys’ “Fallin’.” I was still knocked out during a performance by Northwestern University Marching Band’s drumline.
I woke up after a while to a dancer relations committee member yelling, “You really can’t sleep in here.” I turned to Consuelo and said, “Did I really fall asleep?”
“Uh-huh,” she said. “Three people came by to wake you up. You were asleep for 15 to 20 minutes.”
But parents of children with neuroblastoma – for whom Friends For Steven funds research – gave testimonials through the rest of the day, which kept me going better than sleep could have. Seeing the surviving children standing on the stage, encouraging us to keep dancing, reminded me that even though all the money already had been raised, even though my stopping wouldn’t result in less money being given to the charity, what we were really doing was putting money aside to help save lives – it was not just about dancing 30 hours.
And that feeling only grew stronger as I saw a $380,054 check presented to the Newkirks and Sagermans. As I left with my suitcase in tow, I saw Beth Newkirk, Steven’s mom, thanking every dancer she could find.
The $750 fee required to dance, not including the $75 registration fee, made this the most expensive dance party my partner and I would ever attend. But the cause made it probably the best donation I would ever make.
