Running for Hope

I got up very early this Sunday morning. Well before the crack of dawn. Slipping into my jogging gear, I donned the yellow T-shirt that came with the Run For Hope 2016 package collected some weeks ago. I had registered for this running event several months before. A fund raising event for cancer research that came through my email.

It was an invite I could not ignore.

Cancer had gate-crashed into my world, reducing me to half the person I was. It has derailed my very existence, left its deadly mark and will forever be a foreboding, lurking in every shadow.  So while I usually give mass organised events the go-by, for Run For Hope I felt a compelling onus to participate. Dutiful even. Because Jenny, the light of my life was extinguished by this dreadful killer. 

Besides, the scenic Marina Bay where the event is slated to take place, stood as one of my favourite running route.

The sky was still jet black dark when I arrived.  The yellow streetlights illuminated the way for several other yellow-shirted runners converging from all directions to the start point at the Marina Promontory.  But as dawn breaks, the first rays of the morning sun gently caressed the city skyline. Even against the darkened sky, the Marina Bay Sands with its three iconic towering blocks and board shaped sky-park stood out majestically.  The sight of the bay skyline still holds its magic on me, despite countless visits.  As the sky brightened, many other locals too were snapping selfies like there is no tomorrow, using the hotel resort as backdrop.

I pinned on the bib to the front of my shirt. Each runner was issued a rectangular bib as identifier and upon which we could declare who or what we are running for. In my case it was clear. I was running for my Jenny Dearest.  Beloved wife and mummy of my kids.  I took several selfies of my bib and even posted one on Facebook. Partly out of vanity and partly to remind friends of my lingering grief and how I am dealing with it. It might invite a few Likes.

I glanced around at what others wrote on their bibs without appearing like I was staring.  Looking straight at a ladies’ chest for too long might portray me as a hungry wolf on the prowl.

Several people had names of loved ones scribbled on their bibs like mine.  But some were running for “World Peace”, “Good Health”, “A better 2016” and other clichéd notions.  I spotted one declaring that he is running for “A Cure”. I suppose that is what the fund is meant to achieve.  Cancer research, to determine a Cure for the dreaded disease.  Very optimistic, if not far-fetched.  I have my thoughts on that to share but perhaps I will put that off to later.  At least two persons were running for “Everything”. Being specific must have been a struggle for them.  A little boy was very honest in stating that he was running “because I have nothing better to do”.  Impish, but kids do say the darnedest things.

The run could take two routes – 3.5 km and a longer 10km for the serious runner. I had registered for the shorter route not out of choice. 10km might be too punishing a distance for me to complete.  Jenny understands my limited stamina all too well.

Soon the runners gathered at the start-line. There must have been at least a thousand people standing shoulder to shoulder, getting ready for the signal to start.  Many bobbed up and down as they jogged on the spot to warm up. Music blared in the background, interspersed with the MC barking out instructions to control the crowds.

I was quite oblivious of the surrounding crowds. My thoughts somehow drifted back to another time and place.  As far back as 34 years ago in fact.  A time before my deep relationship with Jenny had taken off. 

Jenny was then, perhaps only a week into her new job as Department Secretary at our company, a U.K. multi-national can manufacturer.  The HR had organised an outdoor mass running event and all employees were encouraged to take part. Healthy lifestyle promotion was the aim. 

We completed the run and back at the factory compound, I noticed her standing by herself all alone, half-leaning against the wall, looking a little bushed up as she fanned herself to beat off the heat. I tried not to stare but I could not help looking her way.  Perhaps it was seeing her in sports attire for the first time. Or perhaps it was her rosy cheeks, flustering in the heat of the late morning sun after the run.  But she looked so pretty and attractive. Sexy even. Other male colleagues were also stealing glances in her direction.  I could smell the competition building ominously around me.  If I did not act fast enough, there would be many other suitors to beat off. The going could be tough.

All the while then she was standing alone by herself. It appeared that the other office girls were keeping to themselves. It was not a surprise as Jenny was still new to the company and might not have been properly introduced to everyone else.  And she was the only female in our department of fitters, technicians and supervisor engineers like me.  I felt a mix of pity for her.  She cut an awkward forlorn figure being all by herself.  But hey, she and I were colleagues in the same department. Should I not stake my claim for “first mover” advantage? It would not be too audacious to be chatting her up and exchanging niceties.  It was the gentlemanly thing to do. And it would not be long also before some other hot blooded eligible male started marching up to her. Like ants homing onto a honey jar.

Truth be told, I could not recall much of what we talked about on that fateful day. The sun was shining. It was baking hot and we were dripping with perspiration from the run.  All around colleagues from every department were milling around, bantering away to share their exertions of the morning run.  I remembered her bashfully confessing that she had walked most of the route as running was not her forte. And the reason she did not take too long to return was because she did an early u-turn to shorten the journey.  Kind of cheated, but who was to know or care? There were no rules to the event, other than just taking part.  Exposing her physical vulnerability made her all the more charming to me.  So she inadvertently made further inroads into my heart as it softened to jelly on that day.

I could not be sure if I had created any real impression from that first meeting. Nor could I recall if there was much sparks showering from that first interaction. But it did trip off a relationship that blossomed to an exchange of vows some 3 years later.

And it was against the backdrop of a mass running event that started it all.

So this morning, amid the proximity to a multitude of runners all gearing for the run to start, I had to fight off tears welling in my eyes. I could blame it on this bitter sweet reminiscence of our first encounter. I could blame it on my recall of how pretty she looked, seeing her for the first time, dressed down in sporting attire, a candy feast for my eyes. Or perhaps it was the music playing on my earphones. I was listening to Bruce Springsteen’s “Racing in the Streets”, a song with a slow and doleful melody that never fails to move me.

Amid the crowds as the race was about to start, I felt my heart sinking. I was incredibly sad.

Just then the signal sounded off. And soon I was plodding with the flow of yellow-shirted runners, all huffing and puffing in the crisp morning air, as we coursed around the edge of the visually-stunning Marina bay.

The Run For Hope 2016 event must have attracted more than 10000 participants.  A great day for support of cancer research so it seems. Cancer is a daunting adversary. But I guess modern medicine can now state that advances achieved over the years have saved or prolonged the lives of millions of cancer patients. In short, provided hope for many. 

Call me a self-centred cynic if you may.  Jenny’s cancer journey started with a lot of hope. Her oncologist was skilful in creating the hope and hype to win our confidence. With that we fully entrusted her treatment and fighting the disease in his hands. Looking back, I could only say the trust was out of place. He was fighting an enemy he actually knew little of. He just made it appear that he knew it well.  So he could sell us hope. That was all he really could offer. And he knew we needed hope more than anything.

I truly wonder how much of the funds collected from this morning’s event would really go to cancer research.  I suppose we will have to entrust the Charities Act and the auditors that sufficient amount was directed to actual research, instead of the organiser’s coffers. But how much of this research would finally be translated into real benefits in the fight against cancer? Or into treatment plans or drugs that some pharmaceutical company would later protect by patents to legally assure them of huge profits to be reaped from the hordes of desperate patients who would pay at any price so they could live their last days with hope. Patients like Jenny and so many others.

Do not think that I had not thought through this before I registered for the Run. When the email first arrived and the idea of taking part first popped up. 

So why then did I bother to take part, being such a sceptic about cancer research? And pay the registration fees, albeit it is not costly?

The event was a mass congregation of people from everywhere whose lives were probably struck or touched by cancer one way or another. Either as a survivor or as a close family member, friend or care-taker of another patient. I felt the need to be amongst them and not be left out. It was a gathering of kindred spirits. In great numbers. The common thread that runs through the lives of each and every one present this morning is this unfortunate disease.  Unfortunately so. In whatever form or ways only each would know.  So I needed to be part of the gathering.

We do need to live in hope, even if the cause is one of sheer hopelessness.  And even if it means clutching on straws, we need to cling on. Till all hope is gone. 

So for next year’s Run For Hope 2017, in all likelihood I will still be signing up. I might even train up for the 10km route. Given my age and fitness condition, it would be a gruelling run.

Cancer is a formidable foe. It sounds like a hopeless cause but I think we just cannot give up, especially on Hope.