"It's cancerous"

Two (and a half) words that hit harder than any punch ever can. And while most people that I know have never been literally hit in the face, virtually everyone has felt the impact of hearing those words either directly or indirectly. According to a recent study released by the American Cancer Society, ~40% of people in the US will be diagnosed with an invasive cancer in their lifetimes. That's a lot of punches.

Like many families, my family has weathered its share of blows. Two aunts with breast cancer, another with Hodgkin’s lymphoma, an uncle with lung cancer, and my mother, who was diagnosed with breast cancer when I was in high school...I've seen the aftermath of a lot of punches.

In the seconds after the hit, time seems to slow as your loved one falls to the canvas. The ref starts his count in the space between heartbeats and you hold your breath, praying to anything that will listen that they will regain their footing before the count finishes. I’ve felt the elation of watching people I care about push themselves off of the ground and rise against all odds, but I’ve also felt the devastation of realizing that sometimes, no matter how hard they fight, you can’t leap into the ring to pick them up before the count is done. And I’ve felt the anger and frustration of realizing that—more likely than not, based on my family history—one day, I’ll be sitting across from a doctor who will tell me that the biopsy came back positive for cancer, and that I need to start treatment immediately.

So, what’s motivating me to fight? I know that every day, researchers and scientists are developing new therapies that might be the difference between being someone losing the fight or being able to stand back up and keep going, and every dollar of funding gets them closer. If *actually* getting punched in the face as part of Haymakers for Hope helps to support those working towards breakthrough treatments and those battling a current diagnosis, then I owe it to everyone who has been impacted by cancer to take that hit. I owe it to my dad, who didn’t get to celebrate his 30th wedding anniversary; to my best friend, who has to pick a wedding dress without her mother; to the guy who learned to tie a tie from Youtube because his dad lost his battle to pancreatic cancer before he could teach him; and to the countless others who have had their lives irrevocably altered from losing a loved one. Because a cancer diagnosis shouldn’t be a KO.