The Rex Lee Run

A couple of weeks ago, I had a very personally meaningful experience, which I originally wasn't going to share on this blog. But I keep thinking about it, and I've decided to write some of my thoughts about it after all, in hopes that others may be touched by my story.

The Rex Lee Run was organized to honor Rex Lee, who passed away from cancer, and the money raised goes to cancer research. Those who give an extra donation can run in honor of a cancer fighter and wear that person's name at the race. To someone not personally acquainted with a cancer fighter, this might seem like a disconnect. "How can running a race honor a person?" he might ask. I have thought about this a lot recently. I think it's because running a 5k or a 10k is not an easy thing to do; it takes effort and drive and the will to overcome a challenge. It's just a different KIND of fight. Doing it on behalf of another person is like saying, "I can't fight your battle for you, but I will fight alongside you, and together we can triumph."

I've wanted for a long time to take this opportunity to honor the cancer fighter in my life. Then a few weeks ago, I found out that someone I know who means a lot to me anyway was planning to do the Rex Lee Run. I offered to sponsor him and told him that I was hoping to be able to honor a cancer fighter, and he agreed. He'd never run a race before, so this was important to him personally as well. He worked hard to prepare, and I took care of the registration process. Even though I just did it online, when I got the confirmation sheet showing the name of the cancer fighter and the name of the person who would be running on her behalf, I got rather emotional. I was surprised by what a tender moment it was.

On the day of the race, I went with my friend to check in and so I could hold his keys and stuff while he ran. It was FREEZING outside, and we had to stand around for about an hour. It was really cool pinning on his number and the sign on his back that said, "In Honor Of..." I was glad to be there for that, and because then he had someone to talk to while he waited. He was terribly excited, which is hard for me to imagine, because the only reason I would run six miles is if someone were following behind me with a weapon. I saw a few other people I know getting ready to run, and I was impressed with all of them for being there. When it was finally time for the 10k runners to line up, I went to see them off. I'm not going to lie--it was exciting to be there when they fired the starters pistol (fired by a relative of Rex Lee) and see the runners take off. I waved to my friend and then headed to the bleachers to wait for them to finish. Another friend of my friend in the race came to see him finish, and so she sat by me. I have no idea how she knew who I was, but I was glad for the company.

The first runner through finished in about 32 minutes. That is insane. Once the runners really started to pour onto the track, I tried to watch carefully so I didn't miss seeing my friend finish the race. (This was very tiring on my eyes, by the way.) However, when he actually did appear, it was very obvious that it was him, so I needn't have worried. It was great to see him come around the track, hold his arms up in a victorious "Rocky" sort of way, and cross the finish line.

His parents were there waiting to congratulate him, and his other friend and I made our way down a few minutes later. Even if he hadn't been running in honor of anyone and I hadn't been his sponsor, I would have still been extremely proud of him, and I'd like to think that I still would've been there to congratulate him on finishing. He was so excited to have just completed his first race, and he even beat the time goal he'd set for himself. It was a great moment.

Most likely, before the race or during, he had difficult moments, wondering if he'd be able to finish. He may have even been a little scared by the daunting task. I'm sure we've all had times like this in our loved one's fight against cancer. Fear is one emotion that I've faced every day since we found out. But when I saw my friend cross the finish line with the name on his back, there was only gladness, and every time I see the "In Honor Of" sign from the race in a frame in my room, I remember the day that this particular fight was won.