C for the Cure

Exactly one year ago last weekend, Michael and I were finishing a Sunday morning run in Central Park and noticed that Central Park West was eerily quiet. We looked down the block and realized the road had been closed off because Race for the Cure was about to start. We stood at the corner of 81st Street and watched as hordes of men and women in Ann Taylor, American Express and countless banking team t-shirts ran the first segment of the 5K run. We watched for at least half an hour as thousands of people started the race, the ones toward the back walking, carrying handbags, and even talking on cell phones.

Many wore "In Memory Of" placards on the back of their shirts in addition to the numbers on the front. I remember wondering why there were some women at the start of the pack who had five minutes' lead on those following - I knew there were some "elite runners" at the front, but some of the women I saw were doing a 12 minute mile at best. It took me a few minutes to realize that they were being honored as survivors.

This year I joined them. It was not about the money donated (since my primary fundraising efforts are for the bike ride for Young Survival Coalition, although I did raise a couple hundred dollars for Komen). Nor was it about the physical challenge (although Michael and I are both very proud to have finished the 5K in around 27 minutes, about the times we achieved in a couple of races last year).

Rather, it felt important to be a part of it to help raise awareness - after all, it was thirty minutes after watching the start of last year's race, back at home in the shower, that I first felt the lump in my breast and decided to take it seriously. So although when the Cure itself comes along it may be a little late for me personally, I will always be grateful to the Komen organization for giving me the Curiosity to look for and question what I found, and the Confidence to push my doctors not to brush it off.