A post well worth reading

Words of wisdom from friend and fellow survivor, Alli Ward.

Skeletons

Despite the title, this post has nothing to do with Halloween, bones, or actual skeletons. It has to do with the fact that when I think of my public portrayal of my cancer experience at this point, it seems that cancer has become a bit of a skeleton in the closet of my life.

I've tucked cancer neatly away somewhere between old boyfriends and high school- in other words, it's in the section titled 'Past'- but that hasn't kept me from feeling like I need to pile things up in front of it so no one has to look at it or think about it.

Although I have made peace with cancer, it's not something I have been in the habit of discussing on a regular basis. There was a time when I could not imagine discussing my life without including cancer, because it was such a dominating force in my life. But since finishing treatment, I have made the conscious choice not to include cancer in certain facets of my existence, and the longer I find myself post-treatment, the more cancer-free areas of life I've created. However, I think the time may have come for me to stop intentionally omitting cancer from the facts of my life.

I have found myself, at times, telling half-truths to avoid the simple fact of cancer. For example, when asked about the arm sleeve I wear when exercising, I usually respond that i just 'hurt' my arm. Or when questioned about scars, I reply that I had surgery (duh). I think I do this because don't want to be identified solely as a survivor, because I am so many other things. I fear that telling people will limit me to being known just as 'the cancer survivor'. But I also don't want cancer to be a skeleton in my closet.

It's certainly not that I am not ashamed of what I have been through; I am proud to have survived. I just don't want being a survivor to define how people view me. But I think that at this point in the journey, I am prepared to tell my story because I hope that it might inspire someone else. That's the whole reason I created Hope, Love, Run. But if you haven't noticed, I have never said my name, provided describing characteristics, or a location. It is not an accident that just a fraction of the people who read this actually know my identity.

I have recently been presented with an opportunity to share my story in a potentially much more public way. I think I have come to the conclusion that I want to do this, and not with the sense of anonymity that comes with the online world; this time it will be with my face, my name, and my voice. I don't really know what the implications of this leap might be, but I think that it is an opportunity to reach others who are not as far out of treatment as I am. I hope that I can be an encouragement, an example, and a voice of hope that shows those that are still fighting that people do survive, thrive, and move on.

Here's to taking the leap!

Hope. Love. Run.
Marathon Girl

Refraction

I had an appointment with my oncologist this week. Between 2006 and 2007, for an entire year, we had a standing weekly date (I use the term ‘date’ loosely…ours consisted of me having my vitals taken, blood drawn, and lymph nodes felt up. All that, and no dinner!). Then, for the first two-and-a-half years after I completed chemo, we saw each other every three months. This week’s visit was actually the first time we went six whole months between visits.

Returning to the place I spent so much time being sick has simply served as an unsettling reminder of the year I spent coming and going from that place all too frequently. However, this time, it was different. This time, I felt a sense of power and accomplishment walking through those doors, because I am not the same person I was when I was emaciated and weak, fighting my way through treatment, and I am not scared the way I was during, and even after, I finished treatment. I have beaten cancer. It has taken me several years, but I finally believe that.

Sure, I finished treatment nearly three years ago, but exiting treatment wasn’t all rainbows and sunshine like I thought it would be. I’ve heard this time period- the first months and years after treatment- called refraction*; all the pieces of yourself are there, but you haven’t yet put them back together in a way that feels whole or complete.

Making the refraction process harder was the fact that it seemed that every six months when I had a CT scan, it showed changes that led me on a multi-week nightmare in which I underwent further testing while doing a mediocre job of holding myself together as I lived my day-to-day life. Was it back? Would this be the time it had spread? Would I be labeled with an expiration date? It was awful. However, eventually, I got used to CT scans being bad news and learned to wait for the follow up tests before I freaked out too much. Luckily, each scare turned out to be just that- a scare. So other than some extra radiation and an exploratory surgery, everything turned out okay.

It’s only been in the last six or eight months that I have come to truly own the fact that cancer is part of my past, not my present. It is actually behind me. I am planning a future without the hesitation that comes with the thought that a five or ten year plan might be pushing my luck. Cementing this belief was my visit with my oncologist this week. For the first time in the four years I have been coming to that place, I was not afraid; I did not feel defeated. I chatted with the nurses who took my blood, and I had a good conversation with the doctor about organic food and the farm. But the best part was when he told me that for the first September in four years, I did not need to have a CT scan! In his departing words to me he said, “Since you feel great, and you’re four years out, there’s no reason to expose you to the radiation. Call me if anything comes up, otherwise I’ll see you in six months. Be well.”

There is something very liberating about knowing I am on the other side of cancer. If you’re still fighting, I can assure you, it is not an illusion. The grass really IS greener on this side of this fence.

Hope, Love, Run!

-Marathon Girl

*Refraction- To the best of my knowledge this term was coined by Imerman Angels founder, Jonny Imerman. He says: "We call it the refraction period...it’s that period where...a ray of light – which is you – hits this object – cancer – and instead of being in that same straight line, you really refract it. You’re sort of going off in a little bit [of a] different direction because who you are now [is a person who is] in this group of people that you never thought you’d be in...that refracting...is not necessarily a bad thing and in fact, in many ways I think it’s a wonderful thing and you know, I think my life is ten times better."

On to the Next Challenge!

It's been a few weeks since I completed the Six Mile July Challenge, and I've been loving the sense of accomplishment that has come with it. I was so excited when Earndit posted the July winners on their blog, and was humbled to see that they even linked to my post about the challenge on Hope.Love.Run!

At the close of the challenge, I gave my sneakers (and my feet) a few days off before taking a trip to Chicago for a long weekend. While I was away, I had the pleasure of running in a new city, which was a great change of pace. I ran along beautiful Lake Michigan and got to see some estate homes that are located in the neighborhoods just off the Northwestern campus. I felt that I was in good company while running. Chicago is in marathon-training mode with the big race only two months away. There were runners everywhere- packs of them- something I had not seen before, but I found the sight of hundreds of people just running, not racing, inspiring.

When I got home, I set up a coach program on the Nike+ site to begin training for a half-marathon. According to the site, I'll be ready to run 13.1 miles by the end of October. I'm still looking for an actual race to do in early November (taking suggestions!)

I'm a week into training and feeling really good. Six Mile July gave me a strong running base so I am feeling confident that I can do this! I want to run to raise funds for charity, but I think this first long distance race will be for me, just to prove that I can do it. I may do another half in the spring, but my ultimate goal is to complete a full marathon early next summer. Preferably on June 5th, 2011. That will mark five years since my cancer diagnosis- the big cancerversary What is a cancerversary you ask? I have been anticipating this day since I found out what a cancerversary was. What better way to commemorate it than to complete the ultimate race. I'm not quite ready to commit to a full marathon as a promise, but I am confident in my ability to complete a half. So barring any injuries that are beyond my control, I will complete a half marathon before 2010 comes to a close, and that is a promise.

Hope. Love. Run!
Marathon Girl

A Promise Worth Keeping

Hooray! I have successfully finished my Six Mile July Challenge! That's right. I traveled by foot a minimum of six miles each day for an entire month. The grand total came to just over 190 miles. That's the equivalent of seven marathons, the distance between New York City and Baltimore, or the length of Massachusetts from east to west. As I wrote before, it was not always easy, but I've proved it is possible.

I underestimated how good it would feel when I finished this challenge, but as the digital girl voice in my Nike+ came through my headphones, telling me I had just completed a six mile run- the one that meant I had completed the challenge I began a month ago, I couldn't help but run faster, grinning as I completed the remaining half-mile that took me from the center of town toward home. Doing this, winning Earndit for July was more than a challenge. It was a promise.

Why? I think I have always had a competitive streak, but it runs deeper than that. Winning top points for Earndit this month was a promise, and I believe that the most important promises to keep are the ones we make with with ourselves. This promise thing isn't a new revelation for me. I have a history of making- and keeping- promises with myself.

When at 21 I was told I had the 'choice' of completing a year-long non-cycled chemotherapy regiment (the other choice was to wait and see if the cancer came back post-surgery. Not exactly a viable option!) I promised myself that if I started the program, I would finish it, knowing full well that only one in three people who started taking the drug actually completed the full year of treatment. twelve months later, I was in the minority as one of the finishers.

A week after I completed the treatment promise, I made another. I bought a membership at the YMCA and decided that I would never take my body's ability to do miraculous things for granted. After all, it had fought cancer, recovered from three surgeries all less than a month apart, and endured twelve months of toxic immunochemotherapy. If my body was capable of doing that, the least I could do was love it. I was never a runner before cancer, but somehow I tied running to loving and appreciating my body. Starting to run was a turning point for me. It marked the start of a life of living after cancer. That's why I believe that while treatment saved me from cancer, it was running that saved me from treatment. It's been nearly three years since I promised to honor my body, and I feel I have kept that promise.

When you take into account the scope of the previous promises I have undertaken, Six Mile July may seem slightly less impressive. But whatever your thoughts are, I encourage you to make promises with yourself. Start small and make a commitment you can keep. Take a walk after dinner each night this week. Eat more vegetables, join Earndit. But don't just do these things, make a change into a promise. Write it down, tell people, make yourself accountable. Start small and you might just be amazed by what can be accomplished when you keep a promise with the most influential person in your life- You.

Hope, Love, Run,
and thank you, Earndit :)

The End is Near!

As the month I previously dubbed 'Six Mile July' draws to a close, I am within days of successfully completing the challenge I laid out for myself. And it has been a challenge! The feat of traveling a minimum of six miles each day on foot for an entire month has not been easy. In theory it’s not so daring, but as with anything, life gets in the way. There have been mild shin splints, 100+ degree heat indexes, a few full days of torrential downpours, a splinter in the foot, a death in the family, and most recently a farm-related infection in my compromised limb. Here's the full update:

In the midst of a heat wave- near ninety degrees when the sun went down- I found that running to the river, shedding my sneakers and lymphedema sleeve, and getting in the cool water for a few minutes made for a very refreshing and more comfortable run back home. This practice did, however, lead to the above mentioned splinter in the foot, but was well worth it in the heat!

On a few days when the weather was affected by the remnants of a hurricane, I ran at the gym until they kicked my off the treadmill- those darn 30 minute limits put a damper on my momentum- but I was not discouraged...I went to Walmart, the grocery store, and anywhere else that was not outside, and walked the rest of my miles.

On a day I worked at the farm from 7 AM to 10 AM, went home, showered, attended a funeral, and spent time with visiting family, I was forced to run after dark, something I hate because I fear tripping- even in well lit areas- and found myself praying for safety because I have watched way too many Law and Order and Criminal Minds episodes not to be on highest alert at all times, but especially at night, because that’s when the crazies come out.

That day on the farm resulted in an apparent infection in my hand, discovered the next morning when my finger was clearly in the early stages of cellulitis- a common infection for those like me, who have had lymphnodes removed as a result of cancer. Not to worry, I made a visit to the doctor, started some antibiotics, and the finger is well on its way to being normal again.

While it hasn’t been easy all the time, I am enjoying fulfilling the commitment I made to do this. When July is over, I will certainly let you know that I have completed the challenge and won my Earndit trophy for top earner in July on Earndit. There is no ‘if’ in that sentence. I will finish. 18 miles to go!