Forest Theatre – Taylor's Tale

By Laura Edwards

I’m a North Carolina native. Most of us harbor an unwavering devotion to one of two major state universities located in the Research Triangle – the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill (UNC) and North Carolina State University (NC State).

Laura's graduation day

I earned my degree in English from UNC. I love the school for the fabulous education I received – something no one can ever take away from me. I love it for its particular shade of blue. I love it for the bell tower that watches over South Road and the football stadium. I love it for the pink azaleas that ring the Old Well each spring. I love it for the Forest Theatre, where a group of upperclassmen blindfolded me and walked me through an honor fraternity’s initiation ceremony after dark. I love it for the basketball team (I even loved them when they went 8-20). I love it for the frozen yogurt and NY pizza on Franklin Street, the town’s main drag. I love it for my favorite spot on campus – a sidewalk between the Wilson and Undergraduate Libraries that, three seasons out of the year, is shaded by a small tree. In the fall, that tree’s leaves turn a brilliant shade of gold, and in the late afternoon, the sunlight shines down and hits those leaves, and the glow lights up the entire world. And most of all, I love it for the friends I will have for a lifetime.

I spent the second semester of my freshman year at NC State. I love the school for its wonderful people, who rolled out their Wolfpack red carpet for me in my time of greatest need. I love it for the grassy hill behind the humanities building where I ate lunch on most sunny days. I love it for the memories of tailgating with my family of NC State grads and going to Carter-Finley Stadium for football games. I love it for Mr. and Mrs. Wuf – with deepest apologies to my alma mater, they’re cooler mascots than Rameses the ram. I love it for the week I spent playing as a scrappy point guard at the late Kay Yow’s basketball day camp in the sweltering but tradition-laden Reynolds Coliseum and making memories with my late grandmother each night after the gym lights went out. I love it for the great week I spent at the school’s soccer camp with my best friends and teammates from my high school years. I love it for the men’s basketball teams of my childhood – I wanted to marry the point guard, Chris Corchiani, and idolized the cheerleaders. I love it for memories of watching those games with my dad, an alum. I love it for the creative writing class I took on its campus – my first as a college student – where I had a teacher who believed in me and helped me build the confidence I needed to hold onto my lifelong dream.

I wish my little sister, Taylor, had a chance to go to college. I’d give anything to see her in Carolina blue, Wolfpack red, or any color her heart desired. I wish she had that luxury. I realized too late that my stints on both campuses were just that – luxuries. I’ve learned the hard way – by watching my sister’s decline since she was diagnosed with infantile Batten disease nearly seven years ago – that dreams cannot always be earned.

People sometimes ask me why I continue my March of Madness. They say that I should just enjoy the time we have left.

But if I quit – if we all quit – kids like Taylor will never walk the path I walked or live the dreams I lived.

They’ll always lose.

And so I keep on playing this crazy game. Call it fear, call it courage, call it faith…call it whatever you want. But I believe.

The whistle hasn’t blown. I’ll play till I can’t play anymore.

By Laura Edwards

Two weeks from Saturday, I’ll run my favorite race, the Tar Heel 10 Miler, on the streets of Chapel Hill, NC and the gorgeous campus of the University of North Carolina.

I’ll pass mile marker one on the L-shaped road I used to take to UNC basketball games at the “Dean Dome” and soccer practice before they turned our old field into a parking lot.

Around mile marker five, I’ll run past the Forest Theatre, where I got initiated into the co-ed honor fraternity the same night a student proposed to his girlfriend with a candlelit dinner on the stone amphitheater’s grass-carpeted floor.

Near the very end of the race, I’ll climb Laurel Hill, which earned its famous rep due to the fact that it climbs more than 200 vertical feet over about a mile. It’s the most difficult part of the race – so much so that race organizers place separate timing mats at the bottom and top for the simple fact that any runner who notches a killer split on Laurel Hill earns automatic bragging rights.

Laurel Hill isn’t easy, but my playlist, my Asics and my love for my little sister will carry me to the top. And soon after I reach that pinnacle, I’ll cross the finish line.

This will be the third race I’ve run for Taylor since Thanksgiving, but this time, I’ll have additional motivation. In 2010, I ran a slow 1:39 in the Tar Heel 10 Miler. Just two days ago in Charlotte, I ran 10 miles and beat that time by almost 20 minutes. Granted, south Charlotte doesn’t have a Laurel Hill. But I’m almost a sure bet to improve on my 2010 tortoise pace this Saturday, April 9.

To honor my little sister’s valiant fight against Batten disease, I’m pledging $5 for every minute under my 2010 time. I’m also asking friends to give anything they can in support of my run. I’ll post my race result here on Sunday, April 10.

To donate, visit www.taylorstale.com/miles and click on the ‘Donate’ button in the sidebar.

I’m incredibly grateful for the support of all of our angels. Though we have many Laurel Hills ahead of us in the fight to save Taylor, we’ll never stop fighting – or running.