The race Saturday was intense. It was powerful and magical and more than I could have hoped for.

It began with volunteering from 5:30am until precisely 8:30am when the gunshot marked the start of the race. Without warming up I found myself at the back of the herd with a few thousand people that should have gone for the 1k walk instead of the 5k run. Nonetheless, I made great time, a personal best.

Finishing in just over 30 minutes, I found a scene at the finish unlike anything else. Survivors were cheered in by name as the champions found their way triumphantly down a specially marked aisle. They were donned with a medal held on a pink ribbon and what I can only imagine was an even more valuable piece of splendor in their hearts.

I quietly observed the energy swirling around the bustling finish area, and reveled in my pride. Fighting along side so many brave women toward that common goal of cancer eradication left me marked with an emotion that can’t be articulated. The abundance of women going beyond the fight, many still showing the obvious signs of chemo and radiation. The husbands and children bearing “in memory of” tags on their backs that said simply “Mom” or “Nana”.

I absorbed it all, allowed my picture to be taken (to be posted upon availability) took my water, went home, and collapsed. There’s more to tell about the weekend, but I don’t want to detract from this message in any way.

From the bottom of my heart, a thank you to everyone who supported my effort either financially or emotionally — or both. With your generosity I/we contributed more than $700 to the cause, the events final financial success has yet to be announced. With continued advocacy like this, we just may see a cure in our lifetime.