Yesterday was Mother’s day, and for the first time, I ran in the Mother’s Day Classic in Melbourne. This was a part of trying to get fit, and, as I severely hate running, was an exercise in stressing my body (and psyche) despite protests.

Most of the other runners there were also serial fun-runners, or representing various fitness and training clubs. However, there were a big proportion of people running for a cause. The Mother’s Day Classic supports breast cancer research, and many participants wore a tribute placard with the name of their affected relatives and friends. This is pretty typical of charity runs, but I found it particularly moving to see young kids, and obviously unfit adults struggling in memory of “Nanna” or “Mum” or “Auntie Dorrie,” or even “Myself.”

I have not got a strong family history of breast cancer, and I have few friends who have been affected. However, in my few years of training I have done a lot of breast surgery. I have met young women, trying to decide if they will risk getting pregnant again. I have met older women traumatised by an screening interval cancer. I have met elderly women who presented with an advanced cancer after nursing their husband through a long illness.

Breast Cancer is common, so research gets government funding. I believe we have the right to government funded research into common diseases. But I also believe we have the responsibility to contribute to quality healthcare. On the weekend I realised that I believe that extends to medical research. We can expect basic research to continue, but if we care about our medical future, or the treatment of our friends and family, then we should support it.

I was running for selfish reasons yesterday, and happy enough that a portion of my fee was sent to a charity I support. But many people were running and walking because they care, and are taking responsibility. That’s impressive.