Run with heart and soul

Today was the second annual Nike’s Woman’s Marathon for Lymphoma and other blood borne cancers. Considering the face that I had to be up at 2 am to meet with the rest of the crew to stage this was truly a unique event that will not be soon forgotten. Over 15,000 women showed up to run but to talk about numbers would be serve a disservice on the level of describing the entire flooding of the ark with Noah with just the number of animals saved.

The time is 3am, a heavy fog covers the entire city as the temperature hits a high of 54 degrees. Small groups of people sway along the streets just making their way home after a night of partying on a typical Saturday night. Approximately 50 members of the Red Cross meet up at pier 27 where almost 100 cots and 10 truck load of supplies wait to be distributed. Coffee is drunk as we are briefed on the morning’s logistics. I am assigned with three others to the first First Aid Station at the two mile marker. Not many injuries are expected so should be an easy gig, not unlike the dozens of others from the past summer. Each station loads into their respective vans and makes their way along the course. Bundled up and still in a dark and foggy city, we set up the station in anticipation for the masses. At 5:30 the first group of walkers come by quickly followed by the elite runners and then the masses. A quick rush of 30 or so victims coming in as quick as we can treat them, mostly basic blisters, Vaseline requests, cuts and scrapes and only one serious trauma. Yet by 7am they all pass as they are still in a group from the starting line. We quickly make our way to the finish line to be a mobile team helping as they complete the race. As of now nothing different than any other event from the summer, with the exception that the sun has risen although a rain has now begun to fall over the city.

Waiting at the finish line we watch as dozens come in limping as we ask many of them if they are ok and need assistance. One young lady comes in limping severely with tears flowing down her cheeks. Thinking they are tears of pain I quickly go to help her, but she pushes past mumbling that she is ok. In disbelief I look back to see the back of her jersey where in black hand written letters she wrote, ‘This one is for you Mom’. This is when I started to watch the runners beyond just people running a race. Hundreds of woman with buttons and lettering to indicate their status as survivors of this terrible disease. Through torn ligaments, bleeding and pain, there was a passion that they carried with them that drove them through 26 miles of hills and hard asphalt. It is the memory that they were told that they would not see their next birthday, and yet years later after many birthdays, they are now a marathon runner. There is no stopping, and there is no talk of giving up anywhere along the route. With tears and hugs they cross the finish line showing their strength and determination.

Then there are those with slips of paper attached to their jerseys or buttons with faces and smiles. These are those that are running for those they have lost or are currently fighting. They are running for those who can not run for themselves. They run to show their love, their hope for the future, and the frustration of not being able to kill this disease. With almost the same veracity and determination as the survivors they push their body to achieve wondrous accomplishments. They stream across the finish line to be met by 6 firemen in tuxes handing out little blue boxes with white ribbons atop silver trays, each box holding a tiffany’s necklace of a woman runner. Yet they pay little mind to a sight that many woman dream of on many a warm night. This is not for the reward of free Jamba Juices of necklaces for most, this is for a more meaningful purpose. The rain continues to beat down on these runners and yet there are triumphant looks on their faces.

Yet with all the heart in the world the body can only take so much punishment. As they cross the finish line the runners are covered in shiny metal blankets the thickness and consistency of plastic wrap to warm the runners in the rain and in the cold. After the euphoria wore off the pain of torn ligaments, bruised hips, hearts that took an awful lot of punishment, to name a few start to be felt. With the help of some med students from UCSF our motley group of Red Cross volunteers treat well over 600 patients with all various degrees of injuries. Our main treatment tent began to look like something from a war movie and yet never once did the mood change from excitement to one of frustration or exhaustion.

The medical students I was teamed up was a 3^rd year orthopedic surgical student and a fourth year ER student. Although very knowledgeable in all various types of injuries and treatments, school had rarely taught them bed side manner in the field or basic treatments. So many patients are reluctant to go to get assistance, rather they would prefer to try to tough it out, part of our job is to identify those that really do need assistance and encourage them to see assistance before they turn critical. The medical students were quick learners with all we taught them and were open to both suggestions and teamwork, learning as much from us as we did from them. I just hope they remember what it is like in the field as they continue into the much more comfortable lifestyle inside the hospital operating room.

By hour seven of the race the runners are much more sporadic but if possible the crowd was even more enthusiastic as each runner crossed the finish line The emotions ran high as they remembered those loved ones who could not join them today. Our medics are now approaching an exhausted level after being on shift for more than 16 hours straight many times without a break or meal. Yet we continue to treat going through supplies in the field by the packet load and smiles and congratulations for all the winners who crossed the line. I don’t think I can remember a more rewarding time I have had being part of a group of volunteers in my life. May these events provide some level of comfort to those who have lost close friends and family while also provide a means of celebration for those who fought and survived this affliction.

With that I am going to get some sleep as I received a mere 2 hours of sleep last night.