Sister Act: High Five

It’s that time of year again, when a familiar message whispers through the trees, dancing on the air, pulling us in.

Stay very still. Listen carefully. You’ll be able to hear it.

“…ssssserrrr…fffuu…answer…pphhhh…kanser…ffffuuuuuuuck canceeeeeeer”

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That’s right folks, it’s Race for Life season. If you have followed our journey from the start, you might want to skip the next few paragraphs – you probably know the story better than me at this stage.

For those just joining us…welcome to the party.

This is a story all about how
my life got flipped and turned upside down.
So why don’t you take a moment, just sit right there
and I’ll tell you how cancer tried to kill my mum and ruin my life.

*dance break*

When I was sixteen, my mum was diagnosed with cervical cancer. My sister Sophie was twelve. I had never been so afraid in my entire life. I don’t think any of us had. Luckily for all of us, advances funded by Cancer Research in early detection and treatment meant that my mum made a full recovery and celebrated her five years clear a few years ago. She now spends her time drinking cocktails, compulsively booking cruises and throwing dance parties in her kitchen.

My mum is the bravest, strongest person that I know. I talk a lot about her kicking cancer’s ass. But the truth is, cancer doesn’t give a toss how brave or strong you are. Bravery and strength isn’t what saved my mum – although her bravery and strength saved the rest of us a million times over.

Twenty-four years ago, my dad lost a mother who was just as brave and as strong as mine. The leaps forward that Cancer Research have made meant that I didn’t lose mine.

Every year, I think this story will get easier to tell, but it doesn’t. I will never forget that it is because of Cancer Research that my mum was around to do my makeup for my prom, and for my sister’s. She drove us both to University and cheered at my graduation. We got to walk her down the aisle, and maybe someday, she’ll return the favour. I will always and forever be indebted to Cancer Research, to everyone who has donated, to the amazing scientists, nurses and carers who meant that my mum stuck around and stayed the amazing, sparkly, wonderful person that she is.

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So I figured, I’d better work off some of that debt. This will be our FIFTH year of Race for Life, which I think definitely deserves another dance break.

*dance break*

It’s been a crazy, amazing journey, featuring bucketloads of tears, a lot of seriously bad dancing, me in the papers dressed as Hit Girl, support from actual superhero Mark Millar, doughnuts with “fxxk cancer” printed on them and a dog in a t-shirt. We have raised a total of £3700 over the last four years. That’s pretty damn amazing.

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But cancer still isn’t getting the message. It continues to steal away people that we love. There is so much more to be done. And I won’t stop until no mother ever has to sit down her children and tell them that she has cancer.

We’ll be having loads of fun here on the blog over the next month, keeping you updated on fundraising progress, super-strict training regimes and all the ridiculous things that I’ll do to get your money.

Seriously, I’ll do whatever. I’ll write you a poem, I’ll hand illustrate you a postcard, I’ll record a song for you and put it on Youtube, I’ll bake you a cake, I’ll draw you a (dreadful) portrait. Name it. Whatever it takes for you to click that lovely donate button, it’s yours.

Cancer messed with the wrong family. It’s going down.

Support us here! Or, if internet pages ain’t your thang, you can text your donation by texting “SOFI57 £5” to 70070. 

The Razz For Life

So. I’m throwing us a party.

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I don’t know about you guys, but I am way, way over cancer getting all up in our business and taking away the people that we love.

For anyone who doesn’t know my history, my mum was diagnosed with cervical cancer when I was just 16. My sister Sophie was 11. This completely sucked. But amazing advances made by organisations like Cancer Research UK meant that 15 years after my dad lost his mum to cancer, I didn’t lose mine. She beat its ass and now spends her time drinking cocktails in her Spanish apartment, taking hilarious selfies with our dog and cruising the Norwegian fjords.11243676_921685944537392_512823715_n

Awesome.

But I’m not through with cancer yet. Because while I was lucky enough to keep my mum, lots of people haven’t been. And this is not over until no mother ever has to sit her kids down and tell them she has cancer.

So I’m doing what Glasgow girls do best: picking a fight and throwing a party.

On the razz:
out enjoying oneself or celebrating, especially while drinking freely.

We will be taking over the fabulous basement bar at Farr’s School of Dance in Dalston.

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We’ll be filling this sexy speakeasy with flashes of hot Race for Life pink, decadent treats and amazing people.

We’re gonna have cupcakes from the fantastic, gorgeous Polly from the Cake Diaries.

We’re gonna have goody bags for every guest, featuring amazing products from Timeless Truth Beauty Masks, Inlight Organic Skincare, Hifas da Terra and Race for Life.

We’ll have the chance to win a massive bumper goody bag worth over £100, with goodies from the Body Shop, Nails Inc, Essence and more.

We’ll have glorious heated massages from Lava Angels.

You’ll be able to chat to the folks from Sniffy Wiffy about their amazing products and how they can help you check yourself for the early signs of breast and testicular cancer.

And we’ll have more surprises to be announced closer to the time.

Fancy coming along? Of course you do! Just drop me a line at theescapologistsdaughter@gmail.com. Places for the event are limited, so get in touch!

Cancer, we’re coming to get you. And we’re gonna party all over you.

Sister Act: Our Revenge

I’m sure most of you reading know all about my relationship with Race for Life.

For the recent readers, here’s the Cliff’s Notes:

Six years ago, my mum was diagnosed with cervical cancer. This was literally the worst.

Fortunately for everyone involved, she’s a total badass and sent that creep away with a flea in his ear.

Sophie and I decided to start a Race for Life team, Sister Act, and what began as the two of us slowly grew to a team of ten. Over the past three years, we have raised just over £3000 for Cancer Research UK. Most excellent.

Sister Act: The Gathering

Sister Act: The Gathering

Anyways.

This morning, I got a rather exciting email from JustGiving, letting me know that our fundraising page was in the top 5% of fundraisers in 2014, and congratulating me on my excellent work.

Now, I’m a great big narcissist, and there’s nothing I love more than a good pat on the back. But I just can’t be doing with this. See, all I do is spend an hour dancing round a big circuit with my favourite people. It’s not exactly a chore, ya know?

So I’d like to bat the congratulations in that email right out to all of you folks who donated. Every single one of you is my personal hero, and I will never be able to articulate just how much it means to me to see your support every year. Seriously. Loads. Every penny donated goes towards ensuring that no mum ever has to sit her daughters down and tell them she has cancer. 23 years ago, my dad lost his mum to cancer. The incredible leaps forward in treatment in the past 20 years meant that I didn’t lose mine. From my heart to yours, thank you so much.

For those of you who are just joining the Sister Act story – welcome to the party! Don’t worry, we’ll be back humiliating ourselves and baring our hearts for your money a bit later in the year. And we’re really hoping to smash last year’s total. This isn’t the height of our journey. We’re moving on up, and this year is going to be better than ever.

Cancer, you picked on the wrooooong family.

The Race for Everything

I was sixteen years old when my mum was diagnosed with cancer. Sophie was just twelve. For a lot of kids, that story doesn’t have a happy ending. For us, it was a happy beginning.

This is my mum, having just run the Race for Life, five years clear of cancer.

Snip20140506_1Since we decided that cancer could go shove it, the Race for Life has become a pretty big day in Sophie and I’s calendar. For those who don’t know (seriously, do you live under a rock, hypothetical reader?), the Race for Life is Cancer Research UK’s biggest fundraising event of the year. It encourages women to walk, run or dance 5 or 10k to raise money for research into all cancers. Don’t let the pink fool you, these guys are all about the less glamorous cancers. Wassup pancreatic cancer, we are coming after you. This year, our third Race for Life, we somehow managed to rope in pretty much all of the women we are related to and created the most thoroughly babein’ running team of all time. I say babein’ now. Deal with it.

BOOM.

BOOM.

Yes. Yes we did put our dog in a tshirt. And I stand by it as the greatest decision any of us have ever made.

Go on, tell me you've seen something better than this today. I dare you.

Go on, tell me you’ve seen something better than this today. I dare you.

In keeping with tradition, I was bawling my eyes out before we’d even crossed the start line, in response to all the beautiful, inspiring and occasionally tragic back signs. Everyone was racing for different reasons, motivated by different people and events but one message rang out loud and clear:

We are racing for all of us. We are racing for everyone.

One in three of us will be affected by cancer in our lifetime. Research funded by events like the Race for Life means that cancer survival rates have doubled in the last 50 years. Even a humanities student like me can tell you, that’s some damn good maths.

My back sign.

My back sign.

Mum's back sign.

Mum’s back sign.

As always, the Race was a totally awesome day out. Really, if you haven’t done it before, get signed up immediately, it is the most fun ever. I promise, I laughed just as much as I cried. I feel like that sentence may not have sold it to you. Okay, look:

BEST

BEST

DAY

DAY

EVER

EVER

The thing I find funny about the Race is that everybody congratulates you as if you’ve done something really incredible and amazing and brave. But the truth is…well, I mean, look at those photos. Running (and by running, I obviously mean walking) the Race is loads of fun. The heroes are the ones who gave up their daily coffees and threw a fiver our way. Who sponsored us again, even though they’ve given the past two years. Who managed to find a little bit of money, even though they’re totally skint. We even had real life superhero creator Mark Miller make a stupidly generous donation of £100 after I very cheekily reminded him of that one time that we met this one time. Every penny added up to an incredible, target-busting £1100.

To everyone who donated and supported us, you are my full on heroes. Honestly, I love you and you are so much more excellent than I can ever hope to be. I want to bake you all delicious cakes and have them hand delivered to your door by your choice of handsome young man or lady. It is because of people like you that my mum is still around to buy a dog and dress her in hilarious novelty tshirts.

Snip20140506_7If you’d like to find out more about the Race for Life and the research it funds, check out their website here! If you’re feeling a bit heavy with all your moneybags and want to become one of my lifelong heroes, you can sponsor us here! I will personally start your fanclub.

Until next year, folks.

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