Racing for the Cure

Well, I'm doing it again this year. I'm running in the Komen Pittsburgh Race for the Cure, to raise money for breast cancer research.

This will be my fourth year racing. This year, as you may know, my reasons for running are even more personal. As a result, I've upped the ante for the amount I'm hoping to raise: my fundraising goal this year is $2000. If you would like to make a donation, you can do so on my Race for the Cure page. Anything you can give is both helpful, and very much appreciated.

Of course, I use the term 'racing' pretty loosely. Because - just between you and me - I think the last time I ran was during last year's Race for the Cure. Which doesn't bode well for my:
endurance
physique
chances of coming out of this with any shred of ego intact

For kicks, I went through a list of more likely scenarios for me on race day:

Gimpy Shuffling for the Cure
Getting Lapped by Old Ladies using Walkers for the Cure
Publicly Humiliating Yourself in Front of Thousands of People for the Cure

Unfortunately, none of those have quite the same ring to them as Racing for the Cure. Which means I should probably go for a jog. Or perhaps begin with a brisk walk. I finally got the ok from my surgeon to start running again, so I have no excuses and exactly 4 weeks to make sure those alternate descriptions don't become my reality. Zero to 3.2 miles in four weeks. (Anyone care to place a friendly wager on what that likelihood of success might be?)

To help motivate myself, I hung up a picture of me after last year's race:



Ok, fine.

It was maybe a little more something like this:


(You may be wondering why I appear to have the body of a man in these images. I haven't been able to find a scientific explanation for it, but it only happens when I run. Weird, I know.)