
Team Seddon
Last year, I hiked through fog-draped forests, scaled relentless hills, slipped over slick stones, and let the rain baptize my resolve — all for one goal: to help end cystic fibrosis. And this year? I’m going back in. But I’m not going alone.
I'm building a team. Not just any team — a crew of wild-hearted, grit-packed, purpose-driven people ready to trade comfort for meaning and sweat for hope.
We’ll start before the sun rises, headlamps cutting through darkness. The air will be quiet, the bluffs will tower around us, their silence heavy with challenge. Every root and rock under you will ask, “How bad do you want this?” Every drop of sweat, every aching muscle will whisper back, “More than anything.”
You’ll meet strangers who become lifelines — the ones who grab your hand as you climb a muddy incline or make you laugh when your legs are begging you to quit. You’ll sit on a damp log at mile 12, sharing a PBJ and stories with someone who gets it — really gets it — and realize that your “why” is suddenly even bigger than you thought.
This hike isn’t just a physical test. It’s personal.
Cystic Fibrosis is part of our story. It’s in the long days of treatment, the silent worries, and the strength my husband carries every single day. CF didn’t just shape his life, it shaped ours.
His diagnosis meant infertility. And that meant four long, emotional rounds of IVF before we finally held our son in our arms.
We hike in honor. We hike in defiance of this disease. We hike because we believe that our blistered feet and soaked-through shirts matter.
So if you’re ready for something unforgettable — if you're craving an experience that shreds you and rebuilds you stronger — come with us.
Join our team. Let’s hike into the fog, into the fight.
Let’s shed some blood, sweat, and tears — and let every step scream: until it’s done.
I'm building a team. Not just any team — a crew of wild-hearted, grit-packed, purpose-driven people ready to trade comfort for meaning and sweat for hope.
We’ll start before the sun rises, headlamps cutting through darkness. The air will be quiet, the bluffs will tower around us, their silence heavy with challenge. Every root and rock under you will ask, “How bad do you want this?” Every drop of sweat, every aching muscle will whisper back, “More than anything.”
You’ll meet strangers who become lifelines — the ones who grab your hand as you climb a muddy incline or make you laugh when your legs are begging you to quit. You’ll sit on a damp log at mile 12, sharing a PBJ and stories with someone who gets it — really gets it — and realize that your “why” is suddenly even bigger than you thought.
This hike isn’t just a physical test. It’s personal.
Cystic Fibrosis is part of our story. It’s in the long days of treatment, the silent worries, and the strength my husband carries every single day. CF didn’t just shape his life, it shaped ours.
His diagnosis meant infertility. And that meant four long, emotional rounds of IVF before we finally held our son in our arms.
We hike in honor. We hike in defiance of this disease. We hike because we believe that our blistered feet and soaked-through shirts matter.
So if you’re ready for something unforgettable — if you're craving an experience that shreds you and rebuilds you stronger — come with us.
Join our team. Let’s hike into the fog, into the fight.
Let’s shed some blood, sweat, and tears — and let every step scream: until it’s done.
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