Race for Ruth

I am not typically a big Race for the Cure (RFTC) fan. Maybe I'm a curmudgeon, but even though it's theoretically for a good cause, it seems to have become a huge marketing juggernaut which automatically makes me suspicious. I hope every penny goes to cancer research—but whether it does or not, this year I ran it for Ruth.

Ruth is my co-worker who was diagnosed with breast cancer in January and is going through chemo and radiation. The woman is amazing. She is completely bald now and wears long dangly earrings and looks positively regal and goddess-like. Despite her appearance and her stalwart continuance of her work, she feels like hell a lot of the time. Bless her heart.

Several people at work formed a RFTC team for Ruth, and I eagerly joined in, signing up for the 5K run. When I got up the Saturday morning of the run, rain was coming down in sheets, and I thought, "Do I really want to do this?" And the answer was "Yes, I really do. I can't NOT do this."

The rain stopped by the time I got to Alliant Center where the race was staged. I had forgotten my race number. Ruth wasn't going to walk or run and asked if I would like to wear hers (and it was the special pink one for survivors). Oh hell yeah! That made me so happy that I could symbolically take her across the finish line.

I am a 10-minute miler on my good days, sinking to 12-minute slug-fests when it’s not so good. I’ve been wanting to get a little faster. I did the first mile in 8:45, which I could not believe. I slowed down considerably after that and even did some occasional walking, but still finished in something like 31:30 according to my stopwatch. I was way happy with the whole thing.

I didn’t realize that wearing the pink survivor number meant I would go through a different chute at the finish line. I received the special survivor finisher's medal and was delighted to deliver it to Ruth on Monday morning. We love you Ruth, and we’re there at your side—racing with you for your cure.