A while back I started a draft of a blog called ‘I’m going to Boston!’ because I thought I was going to be able to get a bib through a charity, raise a lot of money for a cause I believe in and want to support, and run the 2020 Boston Marathon in memory of my mom. The only thing that was missing was my fundraising page link, which I would have once I received confirmation that I had a bib. Unfortunately, the organisation received just one bib – and quite a bit of interest by runners wanting it. I found out today that I was not the recipient of that bib.
I guess that blog will remain in my drafts.
To say I am disappointed is an understatement. In fact, I’ve cried on and off all day from this news, feeling like I failed my mom. The fundraising minimum was $10,000, which is a very lofty goal that I was willing to take on as a way to contribute to helping ensure that no other family feels as lost and hopeless as my family did. That maybe my efforts would contribute to finding and providing better treatment options to people like my mom, people who are told they have glioblastoma and on average 12-15 months to live. I was ready to write my own cheque to ensure I reached my goal – and then some. Because it is important to me to do anything and everything I can to help find better treatments and resources for anyone who finds themselves in the tornado of a brain cancer diagnosis.
This afternoon, I’m sitting here mulling over my options for races, for fundraising efforts, and for ways to honour my mom’s memory, going through a box of tissues while I wipe tears from my eyes. In my brain, I know I didn’t fail my mom, but in my heart, that is all I feel has happened. Maybe I will instead run another race and choose to raise money for a charity that researches brain cancers and treatments for those facing the diagnosis. Maybe not this year. I guess I need some time to get over the disappointment of not being able to run a race that was going to be so symbolic and meaningful to me.