Run for the Cure: 5km Run

Joy here...Back when I signed up for this year's "Run for the Cure" fundraising run to support my dear friend who was diagnosed with breast cancer this spring, I thought that I'd just treat it like any other run.  I thought to myself, "okay, self, you've been into this whole barefoot running thing, so you can use this 5k run as a chance to try out your barefoot shoes," and I figured "okay, self, you ran last year's 5k Army Run in 23 minutes, so this year you can aim for 20 minutes flat!"  Even though I've spent most of my summer in cycling cleats out on my bike rather than in my little Vibrams hitting the pavement, I was confident that I'd be running ahead of the pack this Sunday.  I had visions of my arms raised wide as I crossed the finish line before the hustle and bustle of slower runners and walkers at the back.  I figured that this would be the day to get my running back on track, redeeming me for all the time spent on the bike this summer in one moment of glory.

And then it hit me:  I couldn't be approaching this Run for the Cure with an attitude farther from the spirit in which is was conceived.

The World Health Organization stats say that there are just over 1 million new cases of breast cancer diagnosed each year, and while millions of people are suffering this disease - my own friend included - here I was thinking about my running and my own fitness goals as the be-all end-all.

Talk about selfish.

Let me tell you...as today approached, my attitude changed 180 degrees.  

I have stood by the sidelines watching my friend wage her own particular battle with cancer - complete with "tours of duty", which is how she's dubbing her chemo treatments - and watched her organize her schedule, her medication, her friends, her family, her support team, and deal with the after affects of her treatments (nausea and hair loss among the most commonly known, but the equally painful sense of depression and vulnerability that no one can really explain to you until you're in it).  I've had it hit home to me that no matter how good the Canadian Health Care system may be, much of the care that cancer sufferers require is in-home care offered by friends and family to be there for you when you need them. Your doctor may be able to prescribe things for you, but it'll be your hair dresser who lets you cry for hours and then cuts your new wig in an awesome and super-hot style so that you don't have to lose every part of yourself in this process.  Your oncologist may see you through chemo, but it'll be your friends who speed-drive you through the city when you have an allergic reaction and need to get to the hospital before your throat swells up and blocks your airways.  Your acupuncturist may help you deal with some of the pain, but it'll be your friends who will bring you laughter, which really is the best medicine.

And the Run for the Cure is about raising money for cancer research, but it's about soooooo much more.  It's about me learning that I have amazing friends and family who helped me raise more than $2,000 this year!  It's about me learning that my health and my ability to run are blessings that I must never take for granted.  It's about me learning that the energy and community that my friend has built around her is worth more than the thousands we raised in her name.  To quote what she says on her Run for the Cure page:  "I will need your energy and support to get me through. I can't think of a better way than a run where we can assemble and achieve something for ourselves, for others, and for a greater good. That's energy I hope to draw from."

Today I learned something about that energy and greater good.  I felt the love that all her friends, family, and students feel for her.  And more than that, I felt all the goodwill that all loved ones feel for their beloveds who suffer from, battle, defeat, and succumb to cancer. And as I ran amongst the 50+ friends and family gathered for this one friend, I took the opportunity to run with a family who are good friends of mine.  The mother and father are dear friends, and I have a significant soft spot for their kids - a boy and a girl - who are really cool, interesting, and smart children.  They just lost their own grandfather (the dad's dad) to cancer this last year, and they were out their running with their mom and dad in the full awareness that they were running to help beat cancer.  At one moment the boy - who ran the entire 5kms!!! - was running along at our side while his mom and I chatted, and he just spontaneously shouted, "I'm running for grandpa!"

That, my friends, means more than any running race time or any amount of funds raised.

The words and emotion of a 9 year old boy out there running under a cold, grey October sky encapsulated that sense of love and hope and faith and excitement that we all feel:  that with the combined energy of thousands of people united behind the goal of eradicating this disease, it really can happen.

Over and out, 

Joy