Rants and Ramblings: random commentary about culture, media, politics, technology and whatnot.

race for the cure

This morning, Rob and I went down to the Mall for the National Race for the Cure, a 5K run / walk to benefit breast cancer research and outreach programs. I was still feeling pretty under the weather (and hadn’t trained enough to run a full 5K even in the best of health), so we entered as walkers rather than runners.

We originally had planned to meet up with Angela and some of her friends at the race, but since Rob and I were late in getting to the starting line, we decided to connect afterwards. Unfortunately, I’d misprogrammed Angela’s number into my phone and instead mistakenly woke up some poor woman at 7 a.m. Tucson time.

It was inspring, even humbling, to see so many breast cancer survivors (denoted by their pink t-shirts) in among the race participants, alongside other participants wearing placards to celebrate loved ones who had faced the disease. Occasionally, we passed whole teams of walkers dressed in identical hats or shirts or walking under a banner identifying a loved one in whose honor they were participating.

Describing the scene, a Washington Post reporter observed:

There was no mistaking the cause, not with the Mall awash in pink. Pink shirts, jackets, bandannas and boas. Pink wristbands, bags, banners and balloons. Thousands of pink carnations were handed out before the runners and walkers officially stepped off.

(“At Race for the Cure, Conquests and Courage” - 06/05/05)

My grandmother battled breast cancer when I was in high school, although I was only dimly aware of it at the time, naively confident that everything would work out fine. This week at the beach house, she spoke, with a tinge of pride, of how she’s been cancer-free for nine years now. I thought of her as I looked at all the survivors and their families in the crowd.