Every 19 seconds someone in the world is diagnosed with breast cancer. Every 60 seconds someone in the world dies from breast cancer. Yet we still never imagine it being our mother, sister, aunt, father, brother, or friend. What I've learned and now seen too often is that breast cancer doesn't discriminate.
My mom, Lisa Pollard, was diagnosed with Stage 1 breast cancer on August 31, 2018. After a couple days of processing she built up the courage to tell me that she was about to take on the biggest fight of her life. I learned of her cancer on September 2, 2018..It‘s a day I’ll never forget. Her lack of fear allowed me to start picturing the finish line immediately though. I couldn't wait for that victory bell in The James to ring.
As things progressed she was upped to level 2 due to tumor size and called for radiation treatment when it was discovered in a few lymph nodes. This news was tough but I knew my mom was tougher. The next 7 months were a whirlwind of ups and downs but ALWAYS abundantly full of hope and Jesus. My family grew closer and friendships grew stronger daily. The outpouring of support from our community was incredible.
Cancer is scary, that's undeniable. Many tough decisions accompany it. A lot of uncertainty can be tied to those decisions. Unexpected bumps along the way are inevitable and can feel so frustrating at the time. BUT one of those unexpected bumps leads to my reasoning behind this fundraiser.
I was registered to run my first marathon on October 21, 2018. My mom was scheduled to undergo a single mastectomy on October 19, 2018. However, due to complications with iron levels, her surgery was postponed. Selfishly, I was ecstatic. I was going to be able to hug my mom at the finish line if I finished.
Note: I horribly lacked proper training for this marathon.
I remember her telling me the day prior to my marathon that she would be convinced anything is possible if saw me finish with the minimal training I had done. This made finishing something bigger than a medal and bragging rights. This made finishing a way to show my mom that anything is possible. I was not prepared for my race but neither was she for the battle she was facing. This thought carried me through 26.2 miles. I was going to finish. There was no other option.
October 21, 2018 at 1:08 pm: I hugged my mom at the finish line.
March 22, 2019 at 3:31 pm: She rang the victory bell at The James.
Anything is possible. Now lets find the cure.
I will be donating 100% of the funds raised to the Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer Foundation.
Since ringing that bell, my mom finished the OSU 4-miler and the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure 5k. She has also been cheering at the finish lines of the Cap City Half Marathon and the Rite Aid Cleveland Half Marathon. Thanks for all that you do, mom.
