Walking for the Cure

I remember when one of my dearest friends was diagnosed with breast cancer. I was in college, and she sent me an email to tell me. When I went home at Thanksgiving a few weeks later, I tried to make her promise that she would come to my graduation in June. I thought that if I made her promise to be there, she would have to be okay. She wouldn't promise, but she was there (although without much hair) when I received my diploma. And this month she celebrates 5 years since she completed her treatment.

About a month ago I signed up for the Race for the Cure. I was excited about it at the time, and eventually sent out a fundraising email to friends and family. But that was last month, before I went to Italy (photos coming soon) and came back jetlagged.

So last night a sleepy little devil sat on one of my shoulders telling me, "No one will know if you don't go. Just stay home and sleep in."

But a little angel in walking shoes scolded me from my other shoulder, "You said you would do it. People donated $300."

"It's probably going to be raining. You don't want to go downtown at 8 am in the rain," the devil in slippers said.

"Walking 5K in the rain at 8 am is nothing compared to surgery, chemotherapy, and radiation."

How could I argue with that? So this morning I woke up early, headed downtown, and walked 5K, along with thousands of others, included many cancer survivors. And it didn't rain.

Thanks to those of you who gave me donations. That money goes to support valuable research, as well as treatment for those who cannot afford care. And it means a lot to me.