Unicorns-1.2
Introductory Comments:
http://go.liverfoundation.org/goto/cyktrussell
[audio:http://www.RunRunLive.com/PodcastEpisodes/Unicorns12.mp3]
Unicorns12.mp3
Hello and welcome my friends.  This is Chris and this is the second in my series of personal podcasts that I am doing, essentially to air out my brain as I deal with my father’s cancer and gear up to run for the Liver Foundation at Boston. 
Note:  Even though this is on the RunRunLive Podcast feed, this is NOT the RunRunLive podcast.  You have fair warning to skip now because I’m not talking about running.  Standard RunRunLive episodes will be labeled as such. 
As part of this project, whatever this project is, I’m collecting donations for the American Liver Foundation for my running of the Boston Marathon this year.  I wanted to layer on some purpose for the event and make it more personal.  
The donation links are in the show notes and at http://go.liverfoundation.org/goto/cyktrussell
My story is that I already had a number for this year’s race.  I Didn’t need to fundraise, but with my Dad’s health declining I thought it would be a decent thing to do to dedicate this to him and my family. 
I’ll tell you my fundraising experience so far – it’s a funny story. 
As I came out of back to back marathons in January and February it became obvious to me that I wouldn’t be racing Boston this year. My body was too beat up to put the necessary quality training in to run competitively. (I’m sure it was obvious to everyone else but I have a knack for obstinacy and denial when it comes to my running).
I looked around for a Boston sanctioned charity to lend my energy to.  The Liver foundation was the closest thing to my Dad’s cancer that I found.  
I sent them a nice letter (actually a form letter through the ‘contact us’ form on their website) that basically said; “Is it ok if I give you money?  I don’t need anything from you. I’ve run Boston 15 times and I have an existing network that makes reasonable fundraising relatively painless.”
To which they replied with a hearty and cheery form letter asking me to sign a contract, pay a $75 admin fee, commit to at least $1,000 and give them a signed credit card slip. 
I let out a small mental sigh and embarked on the paperwork.  I signed all the forms, sent them $75 and planned my campaign launch.  I know these poor folks have to deal with a lot of crazies so I’m not surprised by the barriers they put up.  I think actual members of their charity team have to raise over $7,000 to get a bib number for Boston. 
Then, after I registered they sent me 37 emails. These were all the new member information things and week’s worth of newsletters that I had missed.  The other fundraisers had been going at it hard for months. 
Here’s my punch line.  I covered their $1,000 minimum in less than 24 hours after my launch.  I know some excellent, high-quality, decent people in our running community. 
And I did allow myself one, small, passive aggressive ‘I told you so’ email to the director of the charity team. 
Why am I running for charity?  Why does anyone? You’d be tempted to say we do it for, or in memery of a loved one.  I don’t think that’s really why. I think we do it for ourselves.  It’s a selfish act with positive social overtones and consequences. 
We do it because our brains are screaming and we need a physical and emotional release.  We need a physical channel for the demonstration of the chaos, grief, sadness and fear in our lives as things happen that we cannot control, cannot understand and are not understandable. 
That’s what the whole charity thing is.  It’s not to help a cause, that’s a symptom.  It’s to keep us from running screaming into the wilderness to hide. It’s to keep us from punching our co-workers and clients. It’s a valve, a salve and a release.
But, perhaps it’s more.  Perhaps it matures into an altruism to our fellow humans.  Perhaps it is a selfish act that chrysalises into an act that enriches our souls. 
Look at the per