Saturday, Nov. 15th, we participated in the Pancreatic Cancer Action Network's 5k to raise funds and awareness for PC research.
Before the race started, there were several speakers, including a scientist working on research that could lead to a cure for PC, and a 4 year PC survivor who shared with us the startling fact that of all patients diagnosed with Pancratic Cancer in 2007, only 9% are still with us today. It was a very emotional start to the day, to say the least.
The run itself was quite lovely. Great weather, cool but sunny, with autumn's finest colors everywhere. I had a surprising amount of energy.
It's funny: after the race, I felt like it had fewer hills than the Run Like Hell 5k, but Heather felt like it had more. Go figure! That all goes back to that problem we have of never both having a good run on the same day.
This was one of those runs where I did a lot of thinking and sorting things out in my head. Brian and I had been grousing just before the race, and as I ran I realized how stupid that was. It's inevitable, because married couples will always have "off" days, but by the time I saw him near the finish, I was so completely done with my bad feelings that I couldn't help but yet "I love you! I'm sorry we had a rough morning!" I didn't care that I was letting every runner around me know I had argued with my sweetheart; it was just really important to me to tell him those things right that minute. When we were done with the race, he came over to me and put my track jacket on me, which he had been keeping warm underneath his jacket the whole time. I'm lucky to be with such a caring and thoughtful person. He amazes me every day with his kindness.
I also had a sort of personal revelation about running and being thankful during this race. As we ran up one of the hills, I remember thinking "This sure sucks!" Then, that teeny tiny part of brain that is the voice of reason threw some tough love my way. It said "You lazy dumbass. This can't even be one shred as difficult as dealing with something like chemo treatments. Don't you dare stop to walk. You run this whole thing, and be damn thankful you can!"
She's kind of a bitch, my voice of reason, but she's right a shocking amount of the time.
Let me be clear - I totally will never think less of a runner that needs a walk break - it's often me! My voice of reason just knew I was being a baby at that moment. Sometimes, you gotta walk! The important thing is, you keep going.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
As you demonstrate well in this entry, perception is everything. I think I felt like the hills were longer and steeper than the ones during the Oakland race, and yet my time was better.
It's awesome that you have a bitchy voice to remind you to kick your own ass. It's why you are so wonderfully productive. You need to let her take a shot at me. On second thought, you probably don't want to deal with the crying. ;P
Post a Comment