The Fundraising Dilemma

Without sounding too conceited, I think I have a pretty powerful testimony. Three brain surgeries, 22 rounds of high-dose chemotherapy, and now 42 consecutive days of combined chemotherapy and radiation. Originally given 6 - 8 years to live, since then I've married the woman of my dreams, had a beautiful daughter, and run marathons and duathlons. I'd like to think that all that could be used to motivate people, raise awareness of brain cancer, and maybe even raise some money for brain cancer research.

I think some people are motivated. I think I've helped raise awareness. Unfortunately, I've always struggle with the fundraising part. I remember, back in high school, volunteering to go door-to-door to raise money for The March of Dimes. As important as that cause is, I absolutely hated it. I hated asking people for money 20 years ago, and I still hate it. Even if I firmly believe in the cause -- or have a personal relationship in the cause, like brain cancer -- I hate the fundraising part.

Despite my dislike, I've been fairly successful. I've probably raised close to $50,000 over the past seven marathons -- sometimes the American Cancer Society, other times the National Brain Tumor Society, even the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. I think that somewhere in the back of my mind, I harbor a hope that a cure will eventually be found, and perhaps some of the money I've raised in the past will help that happen. On a personal basis, I also know that it provides an added incentive. 22 miles in, when everything tells me to stop, I think about those who have pledged a dollar or two per mile -- hard-earned money out of their own pockets, every dollar one more reason to keep going, mile after mile. In the 2006 USMC Marathon, I walked the last 8 miles and passed out at the finish line. Last year, in Seattle, I ran the last 16 miles with quad cramps, stopping every few miles to massage my own legs. I'm fairly certain that I would have two DNFs on my record if it weren't for the support -- spiritual, emotional, AND financial -- of friends and family.

So, here we go again! You all know that the Rock-N-Roll Seattle Marathon on June 27th is my "comeback" race. I ran the Seattle Marathon a week before my third brain surgery, and I gave myself six months to come back to full strength and run the inaugural RNR Seattle. This race will benefit the National Brain Tumor Society -- an outstanding nonprofit organization that has been instrumental in my fight against cancer. Please, feel no pressure -- but if you'd like to contribute, I've set up a website at http://www.braintumorcommunity.org/goto/Moyles. One dollar a mile, two dollars a mile, $25 or $50 or whatever -- every little bit helps! Help me finish this race, and help NBTS find a cure!