In the few weeks since making the decision to run the 2009 Marine Corps Marathon, people have had the same reaction: "Why a marathon? You do realize that's 26.2 miles, right?"

The idea of the marathon in general, and the Marine Corps Marathon in specific, go back as far as when I moved to the Washington area.  A year and a half ago, my friend Chip (husband to my really good friend, Christy) was running the Marine Corps Marathon and they needed a place to stay the weekend of the Marathon.  It was right after I moved to the DC area, and I graciously agreed, being certain that hosting friends would make my new surroundings feel less lonely and knowing that hosting friends would give me that extra push I needed to finish all my unpacking.  Christy and I stood at the Family Connection Area in Rosslyn and waited for Chip to come find us.  I remember Chip looking salt stained and bedraggled, shivering to keep warm under the super hero cape they gave him at the finish line, and beaming with pride at his accomplishment.  At that point, it had been weeks (possibly months) since I had really worked out; I had given up my gym membership when I found out about the impending job offer in Washington.  At that point, I had no aspirations of running a marathon, but I couldn't help but smile when I saw Chip smiling proudly at his accomplishment.  (And admittedly, his finisher's medal was pretty awesome.)

A year later, one of my coworkers and I decided to run the Marine Corps 10K.  Some of my church friends had run the event in the past and they recommended it as one of the premiere running events in DC; the Marine Corps experience without the 26.2 miles.  Jack and I (well mostly, I) had conned our coworker, Erin, into coming and cheering for us at the finish line.  As I made my way up that hill, I remember hearing not only Erin cheering me on but the other people in the crowd, people who had never met me and who didn't even know my name.  As I crossed the finish line, I remember getting draped with the same super hero cape that they had draped over the marathon finisher's shoulders, and as I walked a little farther up the hill, cute Marine Corps boys placed a finishers medal around my neck.  After meeting up with Jack in the finishers area and picking up my fair share of SWAG, I used my Metro day pass to zip around and follow my friends as they came through Crystal City and crossed the finish line.  I watched the marathon finishers beaming with that same sense of pride and accomplishment that I had seen in Chip a year prior. 

Despite the fact that the marathon finishers had WAY cooler medals than the 10K finishers and despite my coworker's insistence, up until about eight weeks ago, my opinion on the whole Marathon thing was "26.2 miles is a long ass way to run."

And then, I got the call.  There are certain events that will be forever and indelibly stamped in your memory.  I remember getting called into the high school gym on the day of the Columbine High School shootings.  I will always remember where I was when I heard about the planes hitting the World Trade Center on 9/11.  People all over the world will remember January 20, 2009 as the first time that the United States inaugurated a Black President.  I will always remember that weekend as when I learned one of my family members had cancer.  A carcinoid tumor in the small intestine. 

I spent some time on the National Cancer Institute's website reading about the cancer.  The carcinoid is a rare form of cancer that generally forms in the digestive tract from rogue hormone cells.  The tumors are slow-growing and may not cause symptoms for many years after the initial growth.  If the tumor is detected early enough, surgery is the best treatment option.  If undetected, the cancer can be fatal.  As of present, there is no known cure for the carcinoid tumor. 

One of our most basic instincts is fight or flight; when met by our worst fears, do face them or do we run from them? 

After spending some time running - running to the internet for more information; running from my responsibilities; running and answering the phone every time it rang, waiting for more news; running to the comfort and consolation of my friends and family - I slowly came to realize there was nothing I could do.  I couldn't make the cancer go away.   I was too far away to be of any help around the house or to even provide any comfort to the people I loved.  I was exhausted from running from my fears, but I was pretty sure there was no way for me to face my fears head on.

Until...I decided to put my running to good use.

This year, it's my turn to run the Marine Corps Marathon, and I'm dedicating my run to the Caring for Carcinoid Foundation (www.caringforcarcinoid.org).  In addition to being a wonderful clearing house of information for carcinoid patients and their friends and families, the organization is dedicated to discovering a cure for the carcinoid tumor and has disbursed over $4.5 million in grants since its inception.  Through the caring generosity and dedication of the organization's board of directors, 100% of the funds we raise will go to sponsor carcinoid research.

Donating through this website is simple, fast and totally secure. It is also the most efficient way to support my fundraising efforts.  However, if you prefer to write a check in support of my fundraising efforts, you can do so by writing a check to Caring for Carcinoid Foundation and mailing it to me at:

Kimberly Tribou
20012 Sweetgum Cir Apt 23
Germantown, MD 20874

Let's beat this thing together!  I thank you in advance for your support and for helping to take on this form of cancer.