Why I Run

This Saturday is a Susan G. Komen breast cancer run. I am really looking forward to it, and for a lot of different reasons.

First off, I believe Susan G. Komen for the Cure does, and supports, good work. And I want to know that if I ever need them, I can benefit from that work. And that, hopefully, the funds I'm helping to raise now will go towards even better treatments, diagnostics, and prevention.

If I remember my family history correctly, my grandmother was a breast cancer survivor. She survived it twice, as a matter of fact. And since she passed away in 1980, you know that when she received her diagnoses, it was at a time when the word Cancer carried much more ominous tones.

Not that cancer is any walk in the park now, but not all types of cancers carry the same Death Sentence toll that they used to. Many have good diagnostic tests that can catch cancers early, and early detection often leads to more treatment options and better results.

In my own case, because of the family history, I started getting my mammograms at age 35. A couple of years ago, they saw something. So we tested again. It wasn't there anymore. So I went to a different doctor for another opinion. Some people thought I should just leave well enough alone and if the spot wasn't there anymore just be glad and just move on. I'm not wired that way. The spot had been there the year before as well. I needed to know for sure.

I'm proactive.

I'm also one of the lucky ones. Turns out I just have a sensitivity to caffeine and that was making me "lumpy". All I had to do was a couple more tests and drop my morning coffee for 6 months and all was better. Some of my friends, and friends of friends, are not so lucky. Some are younger than me. A friend had her own double mastectomy less than a year ago. And how many people do I pass every day on the street, or have lunch with in Kiwanis, or sit next to at a show that have dealt with breast or other cancers?

Too many.

Billy and I recently went back to the National Storytelling Festival in Jonesborough, Tennessee. On Sunday afternoon they have a longer session and have probably 7 or 8 tellers come in and do 10 to 15 minute stories. Well, one of the ladies we'd heard a couple of times over the festival came in and did a "bit" about exercises you could do to get ready for your annual mammogram. "Grab two metal bookends, place them in the freezer, then have a total stranger come over and slam them together with you in the middle." And so on, and so on. All of the ladies in the audience were rolling with laughter. The next teller even found a way to incorporate her story into his story and eventually everyone in the tent was laughing so hard we were crying! But as we left and got back to our car Billy turned and looked at me and asked "Is is really that bad?". "Worse" I replied. And then I explained to him, in great detail, what it is like to get a mammogram. And how grateful I am to only have to get once a year.

It is because people before me ran in races like the ones going on all over the country this month that we have the technology we have. And I run so that my niece, Brett, and my younger second cousins, Caroline, Brittany, Savannah, Adi, Natalie, Ashley, Lily Beth and Mary Mason, and all their friends and the ones I can't even think of right now (it's always a mistake for me to try to name people because I forget folks, but never intentionally) may benefit from even more advancements 20 and 30 years from now.

It is for them that I run.

I continue to hope that I'll never need it.