IT'S BEEN RUN . . .

We did it!

Team NHF Fights Cancer met up, laced up, powered up, and ran and walked its heart out. We also broke the $1500 mark! (But they are receiving pledges until June 1st, so keep on giving!)

The race seemed easier and shorter than Komen, despite a much-delayed start -- the runners couldn't really get going until several hundred feet after entering Central Park, and even then, we had to maneuver around the majority of the crowd, walking. But that did not deter us or me, and certainly having company by my side keeping pace with me made the 3.2 miles seem like buttah.

My moment of inspiration struck after I missed the humongous sign that said "3 MILES" and was wondering to myself "when is this damn run going to be over because I'm STARVING?!" I asked C if we could stop and walk for a little bit, to which he responded "NO! [He is so brusque.] The end is almost here! The end is right around the corner!" I thought he was bluffing me, trying to get me to keep running, but I persevered anyway, thinking "I promised to run for Melanie, I promised to run for Melanie, I have to run towards the water bottles, I have to run towards the water bottles." Lo and behold, we turned a curve and there was the finish line. At this very moment, seeing "FINISH LINE" right in front of me, I was hit with a wave of emotion and tears and something burst into my legs that propelled me forward faster than I thought I could run in a half-sleepy, half-starved state. I thought of Melanie, of myself, of my friends, of my friends' daughters, and I flew over the finish line to the applause and cheers of strangers. C and I high-fived, then strolled quickly to the water and lunch bags. Please, priorities.

This morning was humbling, not in the physical sense. Running, though boring and sweat-inducing, is fine and even fun if you have the right running companion(s), and it certainly isn't hard. But seeing cancer survivors run and walk on a glorious Saturday morning they might never have seen, or seeing "In memory of" placards with dozens of names written on them ... THAT is humbling. And though I was proud that I had done my second 5k (and run almost 100% of it) and that everything had gone smoothly, I was more proud, as I looked at the other runners and walkers crossing the finish line behind me and the hundreds of Revlon volunteers cheering us and thanking us, to have been part of something incredibly special and important, and to have shared it with tens of thousands of other people who care as passionately as I and we do.

Komen Race for the Cure ... we'll come and git you in September ...