I never thought I would be a "runner". I was the girl who ran slowest in the PE class. A few years ago, I was walking with a group of friends in the Race for the Cure, a 5km race designed to raise money for the fight against breast cancer until one lady caught 1attention.
Wearing a T-shirt with the word "Survivor", she was one of the2women I've ever seen. She must have been close to 70 years old. She was so small that it seemed as if she could even be turned over by a strong wind, 3she was running. When passing me and my group of friends, she waved and didn't4. She just took a deep breath and ran slowly, but5 as if each step had pushed her cancer out of her body. Right at that moment, I6that in the next Race for the Cure, I'd be running along with her.
A week later, I found myself in the gym, running on the treadmill. Three7after I started, my face was bright red. I felt like my lungs were going to burst. I preferred to8to walk. At that time, I thought of the9at the race. I kept it up. I continued to practice. At last, I was able to hold on a little10each time. Three and a half minutes. Four minutes. Five minutes.
A year later, I was at the Race for the Cure11, but this time, I ran with the other runners. When the race started, they passed me by. I ran forward. I worried about12I'd be able to finish it, but then I remembered the13woman again. I ran as fast as I could until I finally crossed that finishing line. I had just14my first race! I looked down at my legs, amazed. They had done something I'd never thought possible. I had never felt so strong before and I knew it was a15that I wanted to create again.
