I joined my friends, Lady Scientists J and D, and D's daughter R, on my eleventh consecutive Race for the Cure this morning. While I do miss hosting a pancake breakfast afterwards at my house (which I did when I captained Team DAI for three years), J, the other J and I have gotten into the habit of going to Ghini's for breakfast instead. Nothing like a 5K for an excuse to eat delicious hash brown practically dripping in butter, brouillade, eggs provencale, or pancakes with a mountain of strawberry coulis.
There are so many inspiring stories you witness at one of these Races: families with photo t-shirts, men in pink wigs and tutus, Native People who dance the entire Race barefoot to beating drums while a woman walked behind with a an incense offering and praying a blessing, a garland of linked bras stretching half a mile down the golf course fence.
The camaraderie is always great. The weather today was perfect. There are no famous races with glamorous celebrity masters of ceremony for the cancer that struck both my parents, or the other cancers in the family. But I reckon every little bit of knowledge we gain about one cancer will shed light on another. And I've started wishing I lived somewhere more temperate so I could tackle a half-marathon.