Like a Fox

Imagine that you're 19 again, and that instead of the world being your oyster, its your prison.
Imagine that instead of being given the keys to a new car, you have your right leg amputated at the knee.

Imagine that instead of being told how bright your job prospects were, you were informed that your chances for surviving this type of cancer were 50-50...up from 15% a few years before thanks to new (but expensive) research being done.

Imagine that instead of being wide open to your first job, you were suddenly confined to your first wheelchair.

Would you crumble?

Or would you win three Canadian National Wheelchair Basketball Championships?

Would you waste away from the cancer?

Or would you run? I mean, literally. Get up. Get a prosthetic leg with a clunky, late Seventies metal foot attached and teach yourself to run.

Would you cry about your plight?

Or would you attempt to raise $1 from each of your fellow Canadian citizens for cancer research by, get this, running across Canada?

Need a new hero? His name was Terry Fox. He died after his cancer spread to his lungs and robbed him of the ability to breathe. He died after dipping a gallon jug into the Atlantic ocean in St. John's Bay and setting out with a best friend driving in a donated Ford van alongside him with two goals:
1. Raise money for cancer cures and awareness.
2. Don't stop running until he could dump that water into the Pacific.

He died after running for 143 days in 1980. He ran with a painful gait on technology we wouldn't permit today. His right leg cut off at the knee would bleed and blister as the prosthetic went on grinding against his stump. His height changed with the limp. His back grew tired. He ran 3,339 miles. That's a marathon every single day. That is not a typo.

A few years ago, my wife started running. It was for a cause, but it was for herself too. She was good at it and found solace. An injury has forced her to tone it down and swim for cardio now, but I know she misses it. Running under streetlamps that would go out or come on just as she passed beneath them. The sign of her running angel.

I took her lead and started to run. Not as far and not as frequently, but I started. Then I quit. Started again. Quit for a while. It was like watching a bad last thirty seconds of "Intervention":
           (Fade to black)

"Chris ran for three months. His family visited him once after running and were elated."

        (Fade to black...new frame)

"In June, after a particularly long weekend at the lake and some pretty hot temperatures, Chris relapsed and stopped running."

        (Fade to black then show fat, slovenly Chris sitting on the couch eating a Ho Ho)

"He hopes to restart running some day. We just don't know."

I'm 40 and a little chunky in that, "well I'm 40 and don't always eat salad" kind of way. I want (and now have) exactly the inspiration I need to run far. Chugging up and down Ward Parkway for three or four miles ought to be less of a chore than I make it. I mean, I have two legs, and although I'm carrying a couple of extra chins (4), it's not as if there are any other physical restraints keeping me from going really far.

Maybe it's my equipment. Let's see...I have a shirt. Got some shorts and socks. SHOES! That's my excuse. They were like $12 at Target last spring after I finally blew out the sole in my $11 Target shoes I bought in 2003. Nope. They hold up just fine. In fact, I see plenty of people running barefoot all-ninja style these days. That dude from Discovery Channel's dual survival climbs volcanoes and kicks cactus without shoes.

No excuses.

I have a loaded iPod and a dog (named "Trotter" for cryin out loud) that starts to gnaw on his own leg if he doesn't run for an hour a day.
I have the perfect trail for running 20 yards from my front door.
I have a healthy body (with 4 extra chins) and pretty fair lungs.
I have a role model named Terry Fox.

He intended to raise $1 from every Canadian when he began his quest. There were 24 million of them at the time. He died having raised the eyebrows and hearts of every citizen, and his foundation has subsequently raised $500 million for cancer research.

There are 32 roads and streets names after Fox. There are 14 schools, 14 buildings and 9 running trails with his name in Canada. He has a mountain named after him and a Canadian Coast Guard ship.

A mountain.

Time to take these chins for a really far run.