Help Alvin raise money

It was the middle of 2015 when we got the call that it was Glioblastoma. To have the smartest, most caring woman (who always treated me like a son) become incoherent, confused, and afraid within a few days, forever shattered our world. It was hard to believe that someone so strong-willed, quick-witted and capable of raising and wrangling three sons, would become unable to walk within 2 weeks of entering the hospital.

Her race had just begun. 

In a matter of days, we were transferred from hospital to hospital, taking a roundtrip through the Lower Mainland, trying to catch the cause of her sudden change. We waited with bated breath the results of each CT Scan, MRI, biopsy and surgery, all the while deteriorating, and wondering what was wrong, fighting against the clock. We received the call at 7AM, and by 8AM she was already at BC Cancer, a room with a view of False Creek. It is hard to imagine the time spent in that room, days which turned to weeks which turned to months, all in the pursuit of slowing down relentless growth. 

My first race was in 2016, the Daffodil Dash, in support of the Canadian Cancer Society. At a mere 5KM, it wasn't the longest or most arduous race, but for my tia, it was. Just having learned to walk again a couple months prior, the 5KM was the culmination of her journey with Cancer. Each step along the route around False Creek a representation of each step of her journey, in learning how to walk and her battle with the disease. A finish line which mattered more than any medal.

I signed up for the half-Marathon to challenge myself to grow. The motivation: a shiny medal to adorn the bare cabinet which I hold "accomplishments". I've put in my miles, I've sweat a few liters, and I've popped a blister or two training for this event. However, it pales in comparison to the race which countless face every hour of everyday, the race against cancer. A race which my tia is all too familiar with, and which we as a family ran alongside her every step of the way.

I chose to donate to the BC Cancer Foundation because of how familiar we've become to the BCCA's many caring individuals, supportive atmosphere and relentless pursuit at providing each individual a fighting chance in this race. I don't believe that every success is a miracle, but I firmly believe that every staff member at every level that we have met while in our time in the BCCA is a saint.

 And while many have crossed the finish line, hers is a race she still runs to this day.  I dedicate this race to my tia, and my tio in heaven, and dedicate my cause to BCCA.