I’ve always thought it would be hard to put myself in a childhood cancer patient’s shoes, but the DanceBlue 5K on Sunday at Coldstream Park helped to change my perspective.

My original plan was to walk the 5K, but after some encouragement from a friend I decided to run the race. Even though I hadn’t trained, even though I’m not a runner, all she had to do was remind me that this was for the kids and I was swayed.

So here I was running this race that I had planned to walk and hating every minute of it. I was struggling. All I could think about was how much I despised running, how much my legs hurt and how much longer I had before I reached the one mile-marker so I could walk.

After I finished the race, I sat in my air-conditioned car and finally caught my breath. It was only then that I realized how lucky I was, even in my self-induced misery.

Because whenever the pain in my legs or my lungs got to be too much, I could stop. I could catch my breath. I could walk.

The children and families fighting childhood cancer in Kentucky and across the country don’t have the luxury of stopping. Each day is a new challenge and the only option is to keep running, to keep pushing and hoping for a finish line.

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I got passed by a seven-year-old girl and a service dog in training, but that doesn’t compare to all the things that pass by a childhood cancer patient’s hospital window: birthday parties, school fieldtrips, play dates and family vacations.

The small pain I experienced during the race certainly does not compare to the hardships these children and families have to bear. In fact, my experience seems almost trivial. Participating in the DanceBlue 5K opened my eyes to the tremendous strength and courage possessed by all those battling childhood cancer.

Looking back on the day, I am grateful that my friend pushed me to run and not walk, for it was in difficulty that I came to recognize and honor all the sacrifices the patients of childhood cancer must make in order to finish their race.

Those kids must endure the bad days, the long chemo treatments, the lonely days spent in the hospital. But they do it, and sometimes even with a smile on their face.

My feet didn’t fit perfectly into the small shoes of the children battling cancer, but how could I expect them to? I will never know the extent of strength and resolve that is required to fight cancer, but the least I can do is pledge to walk alongside these patients in the hope they will reach the day where their fight isn’t so treacherous.

Julia Mikulec is an English and journalism sophomore.

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