It was a week after my mom had passed away and I didn't know how to go on with life. So when I received an email from a friend about a race benefiting cancer research, I ignored it. I seemed too close to the heart, as cancer was the disease that had taken my mother away from me.
But something about my friend's words—"I can help organize the whole thing"—stuck with me I felt obliged (有义务的) to agree. In the weeks to come, I managed to re-enter the world of the living I checked our team's website daily, feeling proud each time a donation ticked up our total. I knew my mom would have wanted it that way. She was the type who never got defeated. It was this very spirit that helped me get by.
When the race ended, I noticed the runners all had one thing in common: There were big smiles on their faces. They made it look so rewarding and effortless. I wanted in.
So I enrolled in another race two months later Considering I could barely run a mile, it was ambitious. But my friend and I made a training plan so I wouldn't come in last. I followed it religiously and didn't let anything get in my way.
Running up and down the city's hills, I was flooded with memories. I had lived there after college and my mother had visited often. I passed Bloomingdale's, recalling the time she and I had gotten into a screaming argument there.
I was about to beat myself up when I remembered what Mom had said after her diagnosis of cancer. "I don't want you to feel guilty about anything." Her paper-thin hands had held me tightly. A weight lifted from my shoulders.
When the race day arrived, I gave it my all for my mom and for all she had taught me and continued to teach me. As I ran, whenever I felt like slowing down, I pictured her cheering me on.
Crossing the finish line, I was filled with her love and a sense of peace.
