My sister fought breast cancer this year and kicked its butt. She ran a 10k in the middle of her radiation treatment, which I thought was pretty awesome.
So this fall both my sisters and I signed up for our local Race for the Cure. We ended up running and walking with my niece and cousin, and my sister’s sister-in-law.
As we prepared for the race, we saw many groups of people with matching shirts, celebrating or memorializing someone’s fight. Some people listed one name on their shirt. Some listed many. It was so amazing to see all the support. I had to stop reading people’s shirts after the first mile because I was starting to cry and that makes it really difficult to run.
My favorite thing about this race: Everyone was wearing pink somewhere. (It made it hard to find people. After I finish a race, I usually go back and cheer for everyone else as they finish. We couldn’t find my cousin because we missed her pink shirt.) All the survivors got pink t-shirts. My sister hated pink. Anything she saw in pink, she would say ‘yech!’
But this shirt, she wanted the pink one.
I’m so thankful she got one.