The Portland Race for the Cure was Sunday, September 15, and it was incredible! I participated in the co-ed 5k run, which began at 7:30a. Excited and nervous, I woke up at 5:00a, pacing about the house before heading downtown. My roommate, Jim, and Ceili, the 7-month-old Black Lab/German Shepherd mix that became a part of the household in August, accompanied me to offer their support.

We arrived at 6:45, and I was amazed at the number of people already gathered in the park. The co-ed run was the first of five Cure events to be held that morning: the women’s 5k run, the co-ed and women’s 5k walk, and the 1-mile run were still to follow. As racetime approached, runners were called over to the starting line, lining up behind pace-lanes (to allow the faster runners to start out at the front of the pack). Before the horn sounded to start the Race, there was a call for a moment of silence to honor the memory of those who have died of breast cancer. Hearing the silence of a crowd that large had an amazing impact. Tears welled in my eyes, and swallowing was a challenge. The release of white doves into the skies above us ended the moment of silence, evoking a cathartic cheer from the crowd.

And they’re off!:

Due to the number of people running, and because of my generally slow pace (9:30-10:00 minute miles), my race began about 60-70 feet behind the starting line. For the first 35 seconds after the horn, everyone could do little but walk slowly, as the pack broke up and finally stretched out enough to allow a slow jog. Although I was able to achieve "race pace" by 2 minutes into the Race, I didn’t maintain it for long, as the course headed up an incline to cross the Willamette River via the Steel Bridge. As I rounded the curve of the entrance ramp, I watched a solid ribbon of people, all united for the same cause, fill the eastbound traffic lane. Wow!

I was also inspired as I thought of the other people I knew who were participating or had participated in other Races throughout the country (my brother and sister-in-law, Dan and Ali Shevlin, friends Cindy Johnson and Kate DiLisa and their daughters, and several of my students from the US Courts), partners in battle against a common foe.

The face of the Race:

Empowered and spurred on, I started looking at the names listed on the pink signs on people’s backs: "I am running in honor of: . . ." and "I am running in memory of: . . . ". Although I had known that breast cancer was the number one killer of women age 40 to 59, it was still difficult to see its toll, and the faces of the statistics, literally right in front of me. It should not have been a shock; I was running in memory of my Aunt Linda, and in honor of my stepmom, Carol Shevlin, and (I realized only a week before the Race) my Aunt Diana, a breast cancer survivor for so long I had almost forgotten she had it.

On the other side of the river, in spite of my burning calves (I had done a brief mountain hike the day before, which I was starting to regret), the adrenaline kicked in, bringing with it an amazing sense of pride and strength. I felt the need to duck as I passed through an underpass with a clearance sign of 13’ 7".

As I ran through streets usually teeming with cars, now full of runners, I began to focus on how I could battle breast cancer even closer to home: in my body. Monthly self-exams, better dietary habits (more whole grains, fruits and vegetables, less trans- and saturated fats), physical activity, positive mental attitude, stress management – these were all tools I could add to my arsenal to improve my odds against cancer, heart disease, and myriad other diseases. I may not be able to completely determine my future health, but I certainly can do my best to influence it!

More than 42,000 people participated in the Portland Race events. As I sprinted (okay, that might be an exaggeration) the final blocks of the Race, thwarted only by the MAX Lightrail train that crossed the course, I drew my strength from all of my fellow runners, from the cheering crowds, and from the women we were there to honor and remember.

Fifteen minutes and thirty seconds after the horn sounded, the finish line was broken. At 18:17, the first woman in the co-ed run would cross.  I finished the 3.1 miles more than ten minutes later, at 28:58 (according to my stopwatch). That said, this Race wasn’t about my time; but don’t you think it IS about time we found a Cure?

My heartfelt thanks to all who supported me in the Race: for the many emails of encouragement, for the checks for the Komen foundation, and for the phone calls of support and congratulations. (By the way, it’s not too late to send a check – I still have more than three weeks (until 10/18) to mail donations in! Checks made out to "Komen Portland Race for the Cure" can been sent c/o Kerensa E. Shevlin, 2909 NW Norwood Circle, Camas, WA 98607).