My granddad was an athlete when he was young. Every time when our family went to grand parents' home, my granddad always talked his stories a lot. These stories are rooted in my mind...

When the doctor diagnosed that he got cancer, it was already at late stage. Cancer cell spread out my granddad's body very fast, within two days, my granddad already needed life supporting system to maintain his body function.

That time, I was away from home doing my study. I couldn't have much time to go back to see him. All I knew was that he was a fighter, fighting with the disease every day. Doctor said he must suffered a lot of pain, but he didn't say any words and just kept fighting with cancer. Seven days before he passed away, he kept breathing hardly. One day, I got the call from my Mom saying that maybe he couldn't make it anymore. I dashed to see him, held my tears.

When I arrived at the hospital,  I called his name,  though he can't say any words, yet he used all his strength to move his body and try to talk to me, try to tell me that he can hear me. After that, last time I saw him was at the funeral. Till now, I still feel very sad as I can't tell him that I finish my master degree in front of his face, still cry when I think of him...

This year, I want to bring his sprit with me to finish my first marathon -- feeling that he is still here with me. Feeling he is running with me, with no pain ...