Race for Life

When I first entered Race for Life with some of my friends, I did not anticipate encountering such a variety of emotions. I agreed to run 5km as I knew it would be far easier than the 10km I ran last year for charity and it was something to train towards. I readily admit that because of this, I did not train as thoroughly as I had done the previous year but I took it all seriously nonetheless.

So on Sunday, we walked to the common to be confronted with a sea of pink of every shade imaginable: t-shirts, hats, costumes, all in pink. Another overwhelming factor was seeing a crowd consisting of mainly women, both young and old alike. I felt quite proud of my fellow womenfolk and that so many of us had managed to raise some money towards Cancer Research.

As time wore on, adrenaline started to creep up and everyone was raring to walk, jog or run around the course in the blazing sunshine. I plug my iShuffle on and started to jog around the course thinking I would just zone out for the duration of the run. However, I instead was staring at people’s backs and reading who they had dedicated the race to – mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, grandparents, children, friends, they were all listed. Everyone running had been indirectly or directly affected by cancer. I could not believe the extended grasp that cancer has on us. A horrible disease that is innate in us all in varying degrees that can suddenly activate for no real reason. It saddened me to realise this but at the same time, I was consoled that so many people are helping to find a cure or at least lessen the risk of anyone dying from cancer.

I was also so touched by everyone watching and cheering us on. There was an element of satisfaction too: it was a bunch of women running this race and all the gents had to be the spectators.

I finished the race in a good time, which was pleasing but seemed inconsequential considering all the dedications I had read on my route.

Needless to say at the finish line my face was a rosy shade of pink – a fitting tribute I think. 

Going back on an earlier theme

One of my more rousing blogs focused on the idea of embracing your past experiences, living for the moment and taking more risks (mantras for the past, present and future). Just because the thought dawned on me, I wanted to rehash some of the past experiences section.

I sat at my office the other day looking at CVs for internship candidates. The candidates had at least a degree and some had a master’s in the related field and were all vying for a 9 month placement. Part of me felt utterly inadequate to these people, as I only have a degree from a less established university and I was slightly humbled at the ridiculous standards graduates have to attain to get even an internship. I then took a mental step back and realised that these graduates are very different to me and my circumstances. This internship is simply a stepping stone on to another job, which they will undoubtedly achieve and even when I was a graduate I did not land into a job (not that I had any idea what I wanted) and it was not as easy for me either.

My envy for these graduates soon turned into sympathy: they have not had the work experiences I have had and are going into a career I would not dream of doing (as it is dreadfully dull). I may lament my egregious work life from time to time but I have come to realise that it has actually been a valuable journey. I have encountered so many different environments, people and cultures that nothing fazes me. A job is not a precious thing to me, yes, it is my source of income but it does not define me. Work funds my ‘real’ life i.e. outside of work hours, and if you were to remove work from my life, I would still have something to show. I pity those who feel so beholden to a job that they have nothing outside of that realm and feel they cannot escape.

I want my epitaph to read I had lots of interesting experiences, met loads of people and lived life to the full, and not that I slaved away in an office and was a total bore (well, I hope no one thinks I am boring!).

If your life was an equation, would you want it to equal zero or one million? I know what I would choose! 

Late

5 more minutes.....turns into 10.....turns into 15.....turns into oversleeping.

Rush, rush, rushing.
Wash, clothes on, stuff cereal down my throat, burn my mouth on tea.
Rush, rush, rushing.
Jog to the station, bustle on the overground that chugs along…..
Rush, rush, rushing.
Shin-burner to the underground, descend with a wave of commuters into the mouth of dusty tubes.
Rush, rush, rushing.
Squashed like sardines on the third attempt, hot and bothered, armpits in my face.
Rush, rush, rushing.
Burst out onto the carriage, up the escalators, beep my card, power walk the streets, jay-walk the lights, in the building, at my desk

10 minutes late.

Up before the alarm after a well-rested slumber.

Wash and dress at my leisure.

Breakfast is a pleasure.

Stroll to the station and get a seat.

The tubes are minus delays and extra commuters.

Walk to the building fully content; I know I’m on time.

I’m still 10 minutes late.