My First Run for the Cure in British Columbia : Part II

Thinking back to that inaugural run day in the Lower Mainland, so many firsts come to mind.  Our first volunteers were a group of CIBC employees who registered participants, gave out race bags and processed the money.  That small group subsequently convinced CIBC that the Run touched their hearts and was a worthy cause for their bank to support. CIBC's invaluable participation today is due to those initial enthusiastic volunteers. Running Room volunteers also worked with us, handing out run kits, donating proceeds from the sale of their specifically designed running gear and generally creating sanity on the day of the event. 

Before CIBC came on board as the title sponsor, the first Run title sponsor was Honda Canada. Honda not only donated draw prizes and the use of a spiffy car for a whole year, but also donated office space for the Foundation. For close to three years, everything we did was in that free space above the Honda showroom at the Richmond Auto Mall.  Our costs scraped the floor rather than heading north.  BC Tel donated a phone system.  Early corporate supporters were so important. 

Another first?  The Run happened right in the middle of the 1993 Federal election campaigns.  The sitting Prime Minister, our first woman to hold the title, was Kim Campbell.  She and other politicians, including Mary Collins, Minister of National Health and Welfare, sported the T-shirts and mingled with the crowd.  At the final medal ceremony and celebration, Campbell looked for the youngsters in the audience and spoke warmly and with great wit about the value of participation in the Run and in public service.  The writing was on the wall for her campaign, but her enthusiasm and directness held everyone spellbound.

This time last year, at the 2013 CIBC Run for the Cure, my daughter was very, very pregnant.  Now Connor Thomas Caldwell Morness has arrived, and he like all children, will need the love of his mom. Connor is a feisty little fellow. He’s also, shall we say “in training” for this weekend’s run (see the video posted below too!) although he also revels in whizzing along in a running stroller with his mom. 

Chelsea loves to see the breeze ruffling his hair and to hear his laughter the faster they go. These are very special moments to have with a loved one. And, due to the progress we have made since founding the Canadian Breast Cancer Foundation here in BC, Connor will be able to share many special moments in the future with his Nana too. And who knows what spin offs will benefit other cancers in the future?

The Vancouver Run is always on or within a day or two of my birthday. In a personal celebration I walk over to the route early to witness the thousands of people arriving ready to warm up to rockin’ music. Every year seems like the first when I overhear the stories the runners and volunteers bring with them, each doing their bit to create a future without breast cancer.  

Every year I am flooded with gratitude just to be there.  

My First Run for the Cure in British Columbia: Part I

I was late and in a frenzy, looking for my matching shoe under my bed. Crouching on the floor, I beat back a crash of dust rhinos (I’m rather proud I know that collective noun), and lo and behold what did I discover but my first Run for the Cure T-shirt.  It was new in1993.  Now it's faded and a little stretched out of its original shape, like me, but still hanging together and useful. 

Sitting on the floor I had to laugh remembering my amateur attempts to be helpful at the first Run in the Lower Mainland.  I had loads of electrifying ideas but those who knew me best tactfully ignored most of my suggestions and put my talents to organizing balloons and cheering our volunteers on. Yes, someone blabbed that I was a high school cheerleader and I was thoroughly mocked.   But there was one brilliant request of mine I desperately wanted to be implemented.  I pleaded and begged on bended knee to have the very first route go past the BC Cancer Agency treatment centre and the BC Cancer Agency Research Centre. I hoped that patients, caregivers and researchers would look out of their windows and know that we were raising awareness and money to help them deal with their cancers. After all, we were and still are working for them. 

I know now that my brilliant request had way more heart than brains supporting it. However, acknowledging the spirit behind the idea, our team agreed and our first route was drawn up.  It's important to note that the BC Cancer Agency sits on the top of a very steep hill from where patients' windows look out onto panoramic views of the Vancouver cityscape, the ocean waters of English Bay and the North Shore mountains. 

Indeed, on that very first Run day, we had spectacular weather and the crowds took off in bright sunshine at the blast of the starter's gun.  There were runners and walkers including children and babies being pushed in strollers. It was cheerful chaos with dogs, a few wheelchairs, rollerbladers, men and women, old and young, doctors and nurses, experienced athletes and total novices trundling along together.  Each of those hearty souls, some even with shiny new running shoes, had to struggle up and down the hills for five kilometres.  Approaching the finish line, they were sweaty, panting, totally tuckered out, yet miraculously smiling at the cheers of the spectators at the finish line. Each and every person deserved a medal for sticking it out. Saner heads have ensured that that my ill-conceived route was never used again.  Phew!

At that first Run, for the first time we mounted a huge Wall of Hope. It was soon covered with photos, cards, notes and messages honouring survivors of the disease and remembering those who passed away.  Heart rending and joyful messages were posted side by side. Some people stood silently with heads bowed before the Wall.  Happy team photos were taken in front of it. 

We made the news on TV and in the papers. The speeches and stories of survivors and families were part of the evening reports. Breast cancer issues were coming out of the shadows. Awareness and money were raised. It was an encouraging success for breast cancer research support. We knew how to distribute the money that was raised wisely and transparently and a successful public profile was important as part of that process. 

Today, the Canadian Breast Cancer Foundation CIBC Run for the Cure (as it’s now known) has come a long way.  On that sunny, first Run day my backpack held registration money and last minute donations while I stumbled along backwards up and down those wretched hills taking pictures of the runners and walkers.  Imagine the change from backpack to on line registration and donations, and from bulky cameras to cell phones which are now everywhere. 

Someday's Here

I'll be 70 in two months, my husband is coming up to 71 and we have been married 47 years. Among other issues, we have, between the two of us, one pacemaker, four cataract removals, a hip replacement, a fractured ankle, one bladder lift and a dose of cancer. Too many of our friends are only memories and just recently my dear cousin told me that she was facing cancer, again, with only months to live.

Years ago we bought an old boat from a young man who was heading to New Zealand with his wife and child to be close to their families. They needed a lot of support. His wife was in the last few meters of an impossible race with breast cancer and she was stumbling badly. It was a terrible story and a sad goodbye to the pleasures of boating for him and his wife.  It was such a bittersweet situation. We were buying a boat and anticipating exploring BC waters with our own family. They needed to leave quickly for New Zealand and wanted a swift sale. The price they set was fair, everything was straightforward and the sale was a huge relief for them.

Those 19 years ago, little did we know, we were in for an adventure. Neither of us had boated in ocean waters. Growing up in Ontario and boating on small lakes meant we were used to water that tended to stay put. It didn't  move sideways and up and down and it didn't have BC's logs, deadheads, wild currents and hidden nasty rocks.  We didn't jump into West Coast boating blindly and we knew adventures needed preparation. The Canadian Power Squadron Course scared us silly, or rather scared us appropriately for rough, tidal Pacific waters.

Now it's time for a new adventure. However, there's one picky little point. We still have that old boat we bought 19 years ago. We aren't circus contortionists and are too creaky to be scampering all over its confined spaces.  The old boat should go to new owners and we want that new adventure.

I remember that after my breast cancer treatments, we gathered up the kids and took off for a European trip shoving aside an "interesting" financial situation that could have stalled us. It was a spontaneous adventure and we had a great time.

With over 140 years between me and my husband, we said, "What the hell, what are we waiting for? How much healthy living have we got? It's time for a new boat!"

We found one.

While outfitting our new (to us) boat and stripping the other for sale, that young family comes back to mind.  They are part of the tapestry of people I have met facing cancer, some of whom are alive and well, some of whom are not.

We do not intend to wait for someday to have our adventure. "Someday's Here."