The day is cold, but all she feels is heat —in her face, legs, and chest.
In front, a rainbow of white and pink balloons wavers in the wind.
“Looking good,” a voice shouts from the sideline.
She slows to a crawl, salty droplets trickle down her bald head.
“You got this, mommy,” says a little voice from below.
Ten minutes later, she raises her arms in victory.
Her bright pink top reading “I race for my future” clings like a second skin over her flat, smooth chest.