I find it interesting, when I feel myself ramping up to full-on "Rant Mode," something always comes along to knock me down a few pegs and point me to a bigger purpose.
Today was no exception.
I've been ruminating over a random thorn in my side that recently got stuck there, and, as one is want to do, formulating a little 'high horse' blog about it. Then I got an email from my fave Personal Trainer (well... a very close 2nd to Tom V. ;) Jonathan Roche, about him running his 15th straight Boston Marathon and is a member of the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute team, and has been for (I think) the full 15-years.
His email really drove home /why/ he was doing what he was doing, and who he was doing it for - the impact that the disease has had on his family and people he loves. It was a great reminder that the little things really are just that: little.
In a little over a week, I will be running in my 2nd 5K as one of the multitude of participants in the "Race for the Cure".
It's Not near the endurance limit-pushing event of a marathon, but in some ways it's felt like I've been preparing for a marathon rather than a piddly little 3 miler, questioning why the heck I'm putting myself through this.
Now I understand why: Because I've made it all about me.
Yeah, it is a little about me - my fitness and wellness journey. Being fit and well enough to even consider entering a competitive race is a huge step that I won't discount. Just being able to take time to 'train' is a blessing. Even though I feel like it's been an up hill battle emotionally and physically, I've been able to _do it_ to know it feels like a struggle.
Reading Jonathan's email reminded me I really don't know struggle.
Granted, just like the Who's that Horton encountered, a struggle is still a struggle, no matter how small. But I'm now facing the privilege I have of participating in an amazing event with a bigger and better purpose.
I'm grateful I've never had to sit, wringing my hands, waiting to hear the words, "You have cancer," spoken to me, my husband, my parents.
I am grateful that I haven't had to up-end my life to make way for treatments, sickness and overwhelming tiredness.
I know that no matter how "meh" I feel about this race, my feet will be driven by something bigger than me, by the thoughts of people much stronger than I. People I know, people I love, people I've never met.
It's not for the funds raised (though it can be important), it's by the awareness raised.
The "C" word has a multitude of names and faces, more than it should, and it is for them that is why I run.