Sea of pink

I have realised something about myself these past few years, and that is when I have profound things happen to me I HAVE to write about them! It's' so great to be able to put it out 'there' instead of keeping it locked in 'here'!

I have an angry aversion to red ribbons, white ribbons but particularly pink ribbons. My heckles rise, when I see ad's with glorious, normal women rant about their cancer and surviving it. My throat thickens in rage, when people ask me to show my support for breast cancer research. This reaction still surprises me, as I am normally a passive (possibly passive aggressive-ssh!) person. I don't like fighting, although I enjoy a good debate, so my reaction to the pink movement takes me off guard. Especially because my gorgeous sister, Joanne, lost her life to this torrid disease three years ago. I suppose my natural reaction should be one of solidarity, and joining the pink movement for a cure. Instead I remain angry, that she lost her life to it and pink ribbons ain't gonna change that. My younger sister has the 'normal' reaction to this and looks at me in strange way as I growl my way around this pink issue. Not that I dislike the colour pink....

So yesterday sees a ladies running race, sponsored by Spar, take place, and being the awareness month for cancer, has a pink theme. We received our free pink t-shirt beforehand which means we can wear it to the race. Normally I would've waited till after the race, being a real runner and all, but this year things are a little different.
One of our running friends was recently diagnosed with beast cancer and has started chemo. New to the running world, she had planned to do the race as a marker, another 10km under belt, before her life changed forever. A group of us had decided to show our support to her and her hubby by being there for her. Now she hoped to manage the 5km walk.

In the early morning, I started to get ready and put on my pink t-shirt. A wave of emotion rushed through me. I listened to my body and realised it wasn't anger. It was sadness. This surprised me. I held it for a brief moment, then carried on readying. After my breakfast I went to put on my pink bandana. As I shut away my hair, I stopped and looked. I saw my sister's reflection in the mirror. Tears gushed at me, and I trembled.

Waiting for my younger sister to pick me up, I contemplated this new feeling that I was experiencing at the pink revelation. By the time we got to the venue, the people were everywhere. There was still an hour an a half to go to the start, but the mood was very festive. All shapes, and sizes, people gathered to make their way through the streets of Bordeaux and Craighall Park. Men who want to run this 'ladies-only' race, come dressed in drag and it is very entertaining watching as more and more men come to the pink party. Some of them looking a tad too comfortable in their dresses and stockings. This year 4 of our guys came decked out in skirts and we howled with laughter at their attire. Oddly enough only one of their hands had nail polish on, and afterwards my sister and I discussed this, we came to the conclusion that they could only paint the one with the 'good hand' and were not-a-chance asking the other guys to paint it for them!

Our friend arrived but tried unsuccessfully to stand in the long line at the loo's, so we waited for her near the start. Her fast-running hubby was in a skirt, and we had decided to join them in the 5km walk. The sea of pink t-shirts blocked both double lanes of road while we waited for the starting gun. Arnorld Geerdts was brightening everyone's day with his comments, and he even brightened some of the guys-in-skirts faces as he made passes at them as they made their way to the start. The tsunami of pink moved further and further into the distance as we walked into the early morning.

Our friend got emotional at one point, which resulted in a rush of tears in our eyes, luckily she is short so couldn't see them as we hugged her.The mood changed when her husband 'borrowed' a party-holding- house's balloons for extra padding, and it was hilarious listening to the comments from the pavements as a Dolly Parton lookalike emerged before our eyes. The banter continued as we made our way through the new spring leafy shade towards the finish. Laughter, tears, emotions soaring, great music from Navi Redd and lovely breakfast and wonderful friends are helping me change my idea on the pink thing. I won't be changing my facebook status sometime soon, nor will I be raisning funds for charity, but I am prepared to do what needs to be done to ease the path of my friend. Even if I have to wear a pink t-shirt!

Pink love!