Race for the Cure in Indianapolis – April
22nd, 2006
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Cindi Hart
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On Friday, the day before
the race for the cure, I was asked to help judge the “paint the town pink”
competition, where businesses decorated everything Pink. This was a
heart-warming experience, to see so many people visibly demonstrating their
support for breast cancer research. One of the participants was a middle
school that had ALL the kids dress in pink. The boys really got into it. We
saw pink hair, pink ribbons painted on faces and pink-ribboned hallways. The
Federal building put large pink ribbons in most every window. This sight was
such a statement of support. I felt like each one of those ribbons was a hug
from these people who cared and understood, and we were not alone in this
fight. I was told that my duties
on Saturday would include showing up at 6am for a TV interview and punching
the punching bag. AstraZeneca (drug company) had a punching bag that counted
all the punches thrown and for every punch, they would donate a dollar to the
Komen foundation. They wanted me to throw the first punch. Then I was told
they wanted me to lead the survivors in the “Pink Parade” .They would
introduce me up on stage as the “honorary survivor”. My next duty was to
drive the pace car for the race. They told me that I would not have to give
any speeches, just have fun. |
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That evening, my Aunt
arrived on a flight from Phoenix. We were to get up at 5am (Indiana time)…
which would be 2am her time. She was a great sport about it. Saturday morning. Race
day. We arrive a little late to the race location and I was immediately
escorted over to the punching bag first thing. The camerawoman was there and
they had me throw the first punch. I was determined I was gonna clobber that
bag. I hauled off and hit it. But I didn’t get a chance to test the bag
before. The bag was very dense. And electronic counter registered “1”. Then
the photographer asked me to punch the bag for a minute straight. I got 52
punches in. Then I was off to be interviewed with the reporter. That went
well. Jane Callahan, the race chair watched the interview and picked me up in
a golf cart and whisked me over to the survivors tent where I was joined by
my family (Ken, Madison and my Aunt Janet). Here I got to relax for a minute.
It was around this time that I realized my wrist was hurting. Seems I may
have sprained my wrist punching the bag. Guess I needed to lighten up on the
bag a little.
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I got to watch the other
survivors and their families entering the tent. Women of all shapes, sizes
and colors. All adorned in pink. Here we entered and received our pink boas
and medals. Last year I entered this tent alone. Not knowing what to expect.
Accepting the boa and medal was a declaration of survivorship that was very
overwhelming to me at that time. This year I was prepared. My family was with
me and I have been “Out” as a survivor for a year now. This time was more of
a celebration |
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It was now time to line up
for the “Pink Parade”.
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They lined everyone up by
year of survivorship. They positioned me and
other members of the Komen Foundation up front to lead the survivors through arches of pink balloons. The
arches were lined by walls of people cheering and clapping for us. This was perhaps the most humbling and
emotional part for me. Seeing all these people
clapping and cheering was a true statement that we were not alone. That we
LIVE and we were loved for doing so. That we had made a very difficult
journey and we had arrived. Tear
stained faces and pink feathers were everywhere. We entered this disease alone, but now we were united! We all
new the fear and frustration, the anger and the agony. And now we knew what it
meant to be united! Having all those people there at that moment was a culmination of many struggles, not
all victorious. As we stood together, families released balloons symbolizing lives lost to
the disease. And the pink and purple balloons against the clear vivid blue sky was
another statement made silently. |
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As part of the parade, we
were lead into a pattern so that when viewed overhead, we formed a giant pink ribbon. We posed for an
overhead photo, and then announcements and speeches were made. My name was called and I ran up to
the stage to be introduced as the “Honorary Survivor”. I ran up and I was
slightly out of breath and then they turned the microphone to me and they
said, “Tell them your story”. Well, I was told the night before that I would
not have to make any speeches! Oh well… someone forgot to tell the woman who
introduced me. So, not knowing how much time they wanted me to speak, I tried
to keep it all short. Then they urged more. So I did. I was told that it was
a good speech… but I would have much rather have known how much time I was
expected to speak. Anyway… I now can say that I have had experience speaking
in front of 35,000 people. |
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After the speeches, my
family and I were piled into 2 golf carts and zipped through crowds of people
to the start line. The golf carts had no horn, so I sat in the front seat
yelling out “Beep Beep, excuse us, coming through” to people as we weaved
back and forth trying not to run over pedestrians. The woman driving the cart
was next year’s race chair and she was almost giddy driving over the grass
and the sidewalks trying to get to the start line. At the start line was the
Ford Mustang convertible (Silver). There were a group of photographers there,
and I, being the naturally shy person that I am (not) jumped up on the back
of the convertible and raised my arms and boa to the sky as photographers
snapped photos. |
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Then we had to wait for
the participants of the race to be staged by time. I got to see Sue Nuyda while we were playing with the car
and she came over and said “Hi” and introduced us to her daughter. I was very
happy that she was there taking it all in and sharing the moment with us.
Even though I only got to see her for a moment, it still meant a lot to know
she was there. |
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Finally the time came to
get in the car and get “acquainted” with it. Ken and my Aunt Janet sat in the
back seat and Madison sat up on the back of the seat like the true “Princess”
that she is. I drove and I had a navigator for the race sitting up front with
me. There was one “hand cycle” in the race, so we took off leading him around
the course. This was kind of disappointing as he was all we really got to see
of the actual competition.
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Being a 5K course, we were finished in less than 15
minutes. Just in time to park the car and join all the walkers. We came in
and inserted ourselves into the mass of people. I was amazed at how many
people recognized me from the TV interview earlier in the morning. That
already seemed like a lifetime ago! We spent most of the time
looking for my Aunt, as we lost sight of her in the first corner. (We stopped
to take a photo, and she kept going). So we spent most of the rest of the
race/walk looking for a red head with a pink visor and a white t-shirt. That
was the description of most of the participants. I knew that she had problems
with her foot, so I was worried about how she would do with 5 K. |
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. Madison was tickled that
one of her friends from school was working at a water station along the
course and Madison called her name out when we passed in the pace car. She
couldn’t wait to get to the aid station when we were walking to make sure she
made contact with her friend so she could validate that she was seen. The walk was very moving.
Reading all the dedications on people’s backs was very humbling. Photos of
women who had lost their battles, but were still alive in the hearts and
spirits of those walking. Seeing the mass of movement, like pink boiling
water and knowing that there were over 35K people there, but realizing that
for every bobbing head we could see,
represented one more life that would be lost to breast cancer in the
year to come. When all was done, we sat
on the curb next to the finish line and watched walkers come in, some
sprinting with big smiles on their faces, some walking arm in arm with their
loved ones. The real celebration was the opportunity to be there, together. |
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In a way I was sad to see
the vendors taking the tents down and starting to tear down. This meant it
was all over and everyone would go home. Part of me wanted to cry out… “Don’t
go! Stay longer! I didn’t get to meet all of you! I didn’t get to hear your
stories!” But people had lives they had to return to. I guess that is how Cinderella felt after the Ball was over and her chariot turned to a pumpkin and she returned to her cinders… But I have my “Prince Charming”, and even a Princess to go with it. And I am living my “Happily Ever after” right now with them. And every time I see a “Race for the Cure” t-shirt, or a pink ribbon, I am back to that moment, breathing in the warmth of the Pink Sunshine of that perfect Saturday morning in April. Where we were united together in a memory that will last a lifetime. |
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Cindi is
Cover Story of "Indianapolis Woman", Survivorship and Komen
"Race For the Cure". 03/01/2006
Cindi is Cover Story of
"Indianapolis Star", Celebrating Survivorship and Komen "Race
For the Cure". 04/09/2006
Listen to Cindi and Madison on Radio Disney,
discussing Cancer, Survivorship and Komen "Race For the Cure".
04/15/2006
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