Mile 20

As many of you know my friend, Hillary, and her husband, Brad, ran the Big Sur marathon a couple weeks ago. They ran it in honor of her dad who is battling cancer and while training for the race they also raised money for cancer research. Their final tally was $21,256.20. Are you kidding me? Two people raised over $21,000 for cancer research. That gives me chills. So powerful. Hillary and Brad dedicated each mile of their race to someone in their circle of friends and family who has or currently is fighting cancer. I was Mile 20. I actually still am Mile 20...the nickname has stuck! I couldn't be more proud. I wanted to share a portion of the email Hillary sent out after they were done with the race. I have sat on it for several days because quite honestly it came at a very emotional time for me and I couldn't quite put my thoughts together. In Hillary's words...

"For everyone who gave something, whether it was from your bank account or from your heart in the form of a hug or an email or a text message or a call, thank you. Until you have been in the mix of a serious illness in your family (and far too many of us are becoming forced comrades in this), it is hard to know how much these seemingly small measures of support mean. Before last summer, I was on the other side. I was so unfamiliar with "what to do" for my friends faced with the uncertainty of what's to come when there's so much you can't do. I now know that the old cliche -- it's the little things that matter -- is so true. The smallest gesture, even when it feels awkward and even when you feel like you're going to stumble over the right thing to say or do, is comforting.

Knowing we do not walk this road alone makes taking steps along it a whole heck of a lot easier.

Kristin Armstrong (an author Hillary had previously referenced) also writes this about friendship to someone going through a hard time, and if you think about it in the metaphorical sense and not just the physical sense, it captures it beautifully:

"If you run next to someone in that place, there isn't much to say – mostly because you can't breathe. So you listen. And for as much as you want to prevent pain or alleviate circumstances when you love someone that much, you can't. And in fact, to do so would eliminate the specific growth divinely appointed by the challenge. Just like you can never really help someone run (in the literal sense – it has to come from their own body, their own strength), you can't really help someone endure...But you can run beside someone. Sometimes your words can offer insight, levity, or community. But most of the time the solidarity of your silence, the sound of the footfalls and the breathing, is the greatest comfort in the world – knowing that there are people alongside you in your journey." "

I would like to say thank you to everyone who has come along side me. Knowing I have a strong circle of support is beyond words. It's what makes each treatment and sick day just a little more bearable. As Hillary mentioned - even the smallest gesture, no matter how awkward it may feel, is perfectly timed. Trust me. So thank you. Everyone. And a special thank you to Hillary and Brad for the honor of being Mile 20. Your efforts and consideration have stretched farther than you'll ever know.