A Very Different Broad Street Run

Three years ago on this blog, I wrote an account of my participation in the Broad Street Run, a 10-mile race here in Philly that happens on the first Sunday in each May.  It was a long piece that addressed how I felt at each stage, the conditions and the race itself.  I was happy with that race, because I achieved my Broad Street personal record at it, a time of 91 minutes and 11 seconds.  The story, however, was a solitary one.  While I enjoyed the race and loved the results, I wasn’t exuberant, because it was just me.  All about me.

I have since figured out how to fix that, and now the Broad Street Run is not just another race to me, but an event that fills me with joy every time I think about it.  One approach I figured out two years ago.  Drag my poor, hapless sister, who was just a few months from her recovery from cancer treatment, down the 10-mile trek with me in 90-degree weather.  Decorate her shirt so that it screams to everyone who sees her that she was running Broad Street ’10 after doing chemo in ’09.  Pester her every 10 steps to make sure she’s ok, and then tell her to suck it up when she complains of muscle fatigue.  Finally, run that last quarter mile past her kids and husband and all of the other screaming fans to the finish line to collect my very favorite post-race high five/hug ever.  She accomplished something major for herself that day, and I was elated to have a front-row seat.

Cancer, however, is an evil f*** that resurfaced for Shelly and has deprived her of so many things she should have a right to, including the ability to run Broad Street again.  I hate cancer.  I really, really, really hate cancer. 

This leads me to my second approach, which I used this year.  Participate in Broad Street with DetermiNation (I’m on the committee), which raises money for the American Cancer Society.  Everybody at ACS/DetermiNation hates cancer as much as I do.  But the ACS doesn’t just hate cancer, it fights it with advocacy, research and support services.  DetermiNation has given me something I’ve been desperate for:  a way to hit back.

The Broad Street Run organizers are extremely supportive of the American Cancer Society.  This year they granted DetermiNation 700 spots for the run.  They also provided a huge tent and publicity for on-site Cancer Prevention Study-3 enrollment at the race expo.  CPS-3 is a massive and historic study being conducted by the ACS to learn more about the causes and how to prevent cancer.  It is a vital study, and I’d be happy to chatter on about it for a year if asked.  I can launch all sorts of CPS-3 factoids because DetermiNation’s staff partners at the ACS asked me to be the lead volunteer for the Broad Street enrollment site, a post I was deeply honored to accept. 

Alesia Mitchell and I did lots of prep to get ready for the enrollment, and soon enough it was Friday, May 4, the first day of the expo and the enrollment.  On both Friday and Saturday, hundreds and hundreds of people took the time to come into our tent to ask about the study and what they could do to help.  A little bit of blood?  A waist measurement?   A twenty-year commitment to filling out surveys every few years?  No one was fazed at all, because cancer sucks, and I’m not alone in wanting to pulverize it. 

We wrapped up enrollment late Saturday afternoon and went directly to the DetermiNation team dinner.  The team dinner was magnificent, on a large outdoor area of Lincoln Financial Field, overlooking the field where the Eagles play.  Three hundred people came to decorate their race shirts, sign the huge “celebrate more birthdays” banner in honor of their loved ones, eat a great dinner and listen to some truly inspirational speeches.  DermiNation committee member Michelle, a survivor of cervical cancer, spoke movingly about how she stared down her diagnosis at the age of 30 by training for and running the Chicago Marathon while undergoing treatment.  Think I’m hardcore?  I’ve got nothing on Michelle. 

Finally, it was race day.  I showed up at DetermiNation’s start line tent greeted by scores of runners in their blue shirts all set to go.  After engaging in lots of great conversation, assisting with last-minute instructions and bag check and posing among my people in our beautiful team photo, we were ready to run.  I lined up at the start with Don, a fellow committee member and first time Broad Street runner.  I’ve always done this race unaccompanied, so even the running part of it was a new experience for me.  We chatted most of the way down Broad Street and, before I knew it, the finish line was in sight.  This is the first time I felt like this run was easy.  I can credit the perfect weather, but I’m also sure it was the cause, the company and the feeling of being buoyed every time I saw some of the nearly 700 blue DNation shirts that were popping up all over the running field. 

The DetermiNation finish line tent was magnificent.  Hundreds of DNation athletes and their friends and family milling about, sitting at the tables, slurping on a water ice, munching on hoagies and pretzels, or standing in the line to get a made-to-order cheesesteak.  And there was Dan Lavelle, the brilliant ACS staff partner who pulled together the whole thing, taking a few minutes to stand in the corner and just take it all in. 

Now when I think about the Broad Street Run, I don’t dwell on a number or remember the weather.  Instead I feel pride for what I was part of, and hope for a future in which cancer doesn’t exist.