Race for Life

I sit here sweaty in my running vest after completing Race for Life, with my medal around my neck on its bright pink ribbon and the emotions make me smile. This morning I got up and went to Stevenage to do the 5km run around Fairlands Park with quite a few of the girls from the office. We know we can do it as we did it last year. We raised a lot of money for Cancer Research last year and I feel proud to have contributed in some small way.

We enjoyed it on a personal level, me and my running partner Jan go training every week, on the walk/run/talk training program of our own devising. I let her set the pace and stop when she wants to stop and walk when we feel the need and I talk the whole way round! I talk a lot, mostly rubbish but I like to think I’m encouraging too. The race gives us a personal focus; to get more fit; a chance to catch up, not over alcohol; and an opportunity to raise money for a good cause.

Personally I hate asking people for anything so I hate getting people to sponsor me, I tend to mention it to people and if they say I’d like to sponsor you then great. I’m not the emotional, blackmail/demanding type, even for a good cause, except parents and boyfriend! I put it on my email signature and let everyone know I’m doing it and hope for the best. I never have money myself and can’t afford to sponsor people so I don’t want to make others feel bad if they can’t either. We all do what we can. I don’t like that I raised more money last year than this year but times are hard at the moment and since I don’t have enough to pay my mortgage, I think actually any contribution at all is great.

I don’t think about Cancer very much. I’m from the positivity school of thought. Instead of anti anything, make it pro the opposite. So pro life, love and happiness. Focus on being well, healthy and happy. I try to keep on the right path and guide anyone else I can along it too if they want to join me. Now and then you have to think about it, I guess for some it’s an all-consuming thought; maybe you have it or a loved one has or had it. It’s a big thing, this C-word but rather than give it more power and energy by using that word and spreading fear, I try to work around it. I know, you think, ‘but it doesn’t take it away’. But maybe it can.

We have the ability many say to heal ourselves, I’d like to believe it, we see miracles everyday. We hear of people that overcome massive obstacles and terminal illness. We know it can happen. So think maybe it can happen. Keep the poisonous dark thoughts out. But this isn’t an essay on how to live your life.

The most amazing thing I find about race for life is the cards pinned to the runners back with messages and memories, of loved ones who have won or lost the fight. It’s a haunting, powerful experience of such intensity and, I wish I could use another word but, poignancy says it best. It strengthens and weakens the heart at the same time. It’s a call to arms, its women standing up and saying I beat this, I’m still beating this, I will beat this. It’s a memorial for others, for my mum, my aunt, my friend, my daughter, colleague, neighbour. Many cards say for anyone who is affected some run for a cure.

But all of us are affected in the deepest way. I find it hard to speak when I line up and see the pink cards in front of me, and all through the race I see photos and epitaphs which keep tears in my eyes. I love to read them because we honour our fallen and our victorious in doing so. For some reason I am unable to fill in one myself. I’m not sure why, but I love to share in that celebration of life.

I always love to see people do good. I love that so many people got out of bed and raised money to do something positive. I love that people volunteered to stand and cheer as we ran by and tell us how well we’re doing (thank you to all of you, you deserve our thanks and we’re too out of breath or choked up to say so). I love that little kids stand at the side and cheer for their mums and boyfriends and husbands and fathers stand along and clap us on to certain victory. Kids in uniforms line the way and St Johns Ambulance are there too.

Pink, there is a lot of pink. The pinkness must be mentioned! Girls in pink cowgirl hats and pink bras and knickers over their clothes. Pink fairy wings, t-shirts, headbands, caps, little things on springs that boing around on your head (god knows what they might be called!). I love it, all shapes and sizes running, walking, chatting, jogging all with a common goal and it’s beautiful. A sea of pink with smiling faces swimming through it, some red and out of breath, some young and some old, but all united.

Strangely for a race no-one cares who wins. I have no drive to win or do better other than wanting to run faster than last year. I just want to get us round, me and Jan and for everyone else to be okay. It was only a 2km but I thought maybe I could keep running the whole way round and that became my goal for the day. And I was delighted to achieve it. And that taught us a lot because when we train we stop and start all the time. But now we know we can do it, we can both run 5km without stopping so no excuse for slacking next week!

We all get medals and fab little goody bags with little samples and girlie stuff which is a bonus at the end. But I think what we take away is so much more than that. My eyes well up and tears fall thinking about it and I know next year I’ll be back. As we walked away I noticed some young cadets pinning up peoples honour cards from their backs to put up on a massive display, I told him I didn’t have one, he handed me a marker and pink card and I honoured them; my grandmother, grandfather, my aunt, my friends, and everyone elses, the dead and the living and all of us who strive to make a difference. Because we do and we will.

http://www.raceforlifesponsorme.org/catstarcat2008