The Race for Life

Funny sunburn.

On Sunday my day started way too early. 6.30am is actually the worst time ever to wake up on a Sunday morning. It’s official. Scientifically proven fact (well... maybe...). From this groggy start, the day ended with sunburn, and a little reminiscing from yours truly.

Without even a cup of coffee passing my lips we (the fiancé and me that is) were soon driving to Oxford so she could run the race for life. I was on solid driver, water and cheering duty while she jogged 5k for charity. I wasn’t expecting much to happen; merely that I would watch her run about for a while before shooting off to resume normal Sunday activities. Instead, the day soon had me thinking about how we can take stories, and people, for granted at times.

Here on the blog we live in a world of fiction, commenting on, and reviewing, many kinds of fictional stories. In them, plenty of the characters and people that populate such stories die in horrible ways, get shot or stabbed or zapped my mind-lightning, or vanish into the Warp - or even live through tragedies that add a beat to the story, that develops the character or plot.

It is easy to take such things for granted in fiction.

We live in fantasy worlds here (okay, it’s awesome fun and a fantastic hobby), and we hunt out great stories and characters, looking at many genres and platforms to find our next hero. And all great stories are driven by conflict and the characters.

However, we all (well, most of us) return to real life, daydreaming of our chosen heroes and looking forward to the next read, film or game. We can sometimes forget how powerful the stories of the real life around us are.

The fiance is in there somewhere!

I had the honour of cheering my fiancé on at the Race for Life. It turned out to be a great, and eye-opening, day. Several thousand women of all ages and walks of life turned up to run 5k to raise money for Cancer Research, resplendent in pink and fancy dress. I heard many tragic and amazing stories about how everyday people have battled through the years against this beastly and evil disease. In fact my own Grandmother died of breast cancer before I was born, and my mother too battled the disease.

A party atmoshpere at the end!

Most women running had a sign on their backs telling us who they ran for – that in itself told a wide variety of uplifting, and sad, stories about the people you met. Sign’s such as ‘For Daddy’, ‘Gran and Grandpa’, or even ‘Me’ really touched us. My fiancé also told me of a dog she saw running with its’ owner that had a ‘Me’ sign on its back (poor thing).

It was a day for real, honest stories about people and humanity. It was also a day for giving people hope and helping to beat a disease that threatens many of us in life today – a story we don’t ever wish to be part of, but one that continues to be told. It’s days like this that really put things into perspective and offer up hard-hitting real life stories, whether you like it or not.

Ice Cream van got the biggest queue!

So, that was my Sunday. It ended as all busy days (and now Sundays) should. A nice glass of wine and a book on the balcony as the summer’s day faded into night.

For more information on the Race for Life and how to become part of the story in helping save others affected click HERE