I've got cancer and I ran a 5K two days in a row

Last weekend, I ran a practice 5K.

If you’d told me a few months ago that I’d be happily running a 5K as a practice, I wouldn’t have believed you. I don't think even Laura at Fitness Tribe would have believed you.

Back then, the finish line I saw was darker, scarier and the kind that comes with hospital gowns, biopsy scars, and uncertainty.

Then I was diagnosed with cancer.

There was no fanfare. No warning. Just a conversation that split my life into two halves: before and after.

But cancer picked the wrong girl.

Running has become more than just a thing I do to try not to embarrass myself; it's because there’s a difference between giving up and giving everything you have left.

It’s a messy, beautiful metaphor for what life feels like right now:

I don’t have to sprint.

I don’t have to look perfect.

I just have to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

Even when it hurts, even when it’s slow, even when I don’t think I can.

This weekend, I’ll be running with my friends.

I'll be running for every appointment I sat through, trying not to cry.

For every scan where I held my breath and hoped for better news.

I'll be running for every day that I still wake up, still move forward, still fight.

I'll be running for me.

I’d love it if you could sponsor me (and my amazing friends) because what we’re running for matters.

Every donation supports the people still fighting, the families still hoping, and the research that might one day make these stories different.

Sponsor us if you can.

Cheer us on if you can’t.

But mostly, like me, keep putting one foot in front of the other. Always.