My dad and I ran the Komen Columbus Race for the Cure bright and early yesterday on a beautiful Saturday morning. 37,000 other walkers and runners joined us on the road, moving our feet for a cause that is close to the hearts of countless women. Survivors dotted the crowds, easily identified by their special pink t-shirts. Many cried tears of accomplishment and triumph as they crossed the finish line through their own special "pink" finish chute. This race was unlike any other race I've ever participated in. There were bands on every corner, biker gangs, highschool cheerleaders, and runners/walkers of every shape, size and nationality out there showing their support for people afflicted with this disease. I didn't even care what my time was (I think it was around 30:45, but I can't say for sure) and didn't even notice the hills (for the most part). I felt extremely grateful to be running that morning in a white t-shirt and inspired by those there in pink.
1 comment:
Beautiful write up! So great you ran that race, and with your dad. Awesome.
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