Fat Bottomed Girls Were Not Born to Run

At the beginning of the year, I posted this.

Ya'll saw the pictures I've posted before. I did train with the local group and by our race course practice run I was walk/running a pretty good 5K. Then, I went on some business travel and came down with amoebic dysentery. According to Wikipedia, this is something common when travelers visit "developing nations." I was in Alabama people, which admittedly isn't all that far along, but COME ON!

The plan was to run the Heritage Race through downtown Montgomery, but on the morning of the race I was still experiencing some cramping and discomfort. Not to mention, two weeks of persistent diarrhea can do some pretty effective dehydrating.

So, the race was a no go for me. I was pretty upset because I have a history of not following through. I figured if I'd skipped this chance, then I might just blow it off and not ever run a 5k.

Then, I saw an add for the Joy to Life: Walk of Life 5K Walk/Run.

Six years ago now, my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer. She was a post-menopausal woman at the time and her chances of recovery were incredibly high (in the 90th percentile), so I never really worried for her life because I knew that statistically her chances of survival were great.

More importantly, my mom became my biggest hero because her chances of survival were greatly improved by early detection. See, her cancer was detected during her routine, annual mammogram. It was so small that even a monthly self-breast exam wouldn't have found anything. Here doctors actually described the "mass" as being no larger than a grain of sand. My mom was very fortunate to: 1)find it early, 2)be a post-menopausal woman and 3)have a medical plan that allows her to afford annual mammograms.

Which is why Joy to Life: Walk of Life 5K Walk/Run was a no-brainer for me. All proceeds from the annual Walk of Life benefit the Foundation, which supports screenings and early detection of breast cancer for women in the tri-county area who are younger than 50 years old and cannot afford mammograms.

So, I strapped on my running shoes and headed to the race bright and early on Saturday morning. I picked up my number and filled out my "I am walking in honor of: Edna Martinez" form for the back of my shirt and I stood around. I was nervous and excited, but mostly I was scared that I'd fall or do something equally uncoordinated during the race.

Within minutes of arriving, I was approached by a few members of my original running club and our coordinator. I was relieved to see Mary because I'd been needing that validation. That whole, "SEE, I did show up. I did follow-through."

I didn't finish in record time: 00:46:09, but there were still scores of people behind me when I crossed that finish line.

But, as I ran up to the finish line and heard the cheering voices of survivors, current breast cancer patients and other runners that had finished before me, I realized it wasn't about that.

It was about my $25 registration fee helping save someone's mother, daughter, sister, friend.

That, in the end, was my reward.