How Much is Your Life Worth?

I recently got a quote for life insurance. I have been married for all of two months and my husband's car died. Before we made our first big married purchase, I called our insurance company to get a quote for our new ride. At the end of the call, the girl asked if I wanted a complementary quote on life insurance. I was home alone and didn't have anything better to do than answer a host of personal questions, so I said yes. 

What followed was a twenty-minute game of 'Who Engages in More Risky Activities-You or Your Husband?' I was winning. I got points for never having smoked anything ever, not traveling out of the country for business, and skipping bungee jumping. I called it a tie on things like family history of diabetes, cholesterol levels, and maintaining a healthy weight. Then right at the end she dropped the bomb- personal history of cancer? I knew it had to be coming, but it was literally the LAST question she asked. And with that, I lost the game. 

I was informed that insuring me would cost three times as much as insuring my husband. I wasn't happy about this, so I answered even more questions that required me to pull out my pink binder with the Stupid Cancer sticker on the cover. From my medical binder, I gave the woman on the phone exact information on the size and depth of my cancer, as well as treatment history, so that she could call back and give me a more accurate quote. I was sure the premium would go down. It had to. I did chemo. I've been cancer free for over seven years. 

I got a twenty-second slap in the face the next day when the insurance company called back to inform me that the quote I received wasn't accurate. Turns out I'm uninsurable. At any cost. I promptly sent a snarky text to my husband letting him know the good news that I am worth far more alive than I am dead. Then I thought about what this meant. According to some mathematical risk analysis formula, it is so probable that I will die young(ish) that this company wouldn't even take me on. I am a liability. I made a point of not thinking too hard about this, though; I have come to terms with my own mortality. Cancer will help you do that. I have thought I was dying enough times that I have an advance directive, and I have put a great deal of thought into the legacy I would like to leave. Everyone dies. It doesn't scare me. 

I thought my fear of being uninsurable was over once healthcare reform became a reality, but I hadn't even considered life insurance. Who my age does? As frustrated as I am about this, I am trying not to let it get me down. For all the unexpected (and unwanted) 'gifts' that cancer has given me (surprise- your thyroid doesn't work anymore!) There are many more gifts that I am grateful for. I have traveled the country, met amazing people, shared my story, created artwork, found my inner athlete. I have perspective and priorities. My life took a sharp left turn it wouldn't have taken without cancer, and I am eternally grateful for the change in course, because without cancer, I wouldn't be who I am- Someone whose life's value can't be summed up with a mathematical formula. 

Hope. Love. Run.

Happy Livestrong Day!

In 31 minutes, Livestrong Day officially starts. It also happens to be my sister's birthday, so happy birthday, #1!

While I celebrate my cancerversary (the date I was diagnosed with cancer) each year, Lance Armstrong has taken it to a whole different level. He has an entire country celebrating the day as not only the day he became a survivor, but also as a day of awareness, remembrance, and honor for those who have been affected by cancer.

I'm a long-time fan of the Lance Armstrong Foundation's resources and awareness campaigns. They've also made an effort to support the young adult community through their partnership with the Ulman Cancer Fund (which supports young adults). They also produced notebooks and binders that made it possible for cancer survivors to create a detailed record of their treatment history. However, I am more than excited about the newest LAF initiative that's arrived locally. It's called Livestrong at the Y.

I heard about it for the first time at the triathlon. There was a table with information about it, so I went over to see what the deal was. The representative explained to me that they were starting a small group exercise/wellness program for cancer survivors that would meet at the Y a few times a week.

My first reaction: Awesome...But about four years too late.

I was seriously looking for this program when I finished treatment in September 2007. Unfortunately, it didn't exist then, but thankfully, it does now. Since I've returned to the gym after the tri, there has been a table set up in the entryway of the YMCA advertising the program, and I spoke to the coordinator last week. She let me know that the next session begins (the first to be offered on evenings and weekends) and put my name on her list of participants. I can't wait to start!

In the meantime, this LAF and YMCA partnership is bringing together two of my favorite things...the gym and all things Livestrong. When I went to the gym today, I found a paper chain of encouraging statements to cancer survivors strung along the main hallway. beyond the Livestrong table in the entryway, the gym featured Livestrong banners with inspirational statements, and on each of the kiosks on the strength circuit machines was a tiny sign that reminded patrons to wear yellow if they visited the gym tomorrow, on Livestrong Day.

The whole thing feels kind of like a party honoring cancer survivors...and what could be better than a party at one of my favorite places- the gym! On my way out, I signed up to come back tomorrow and bike for an hour, and you can bet I'll be wearing a bright yellow shirt...maybe even with my bright yellow shorts. I also took a minute to write on one of the narrow slips of yellow paper that were being used to extend the chain. I wrote one of my favorite statements, which comes from this 1 minute Nike video from the 2008 Olympics (Click).

I hope you'll wear yellow on Sunday, October 2nd in honor of Livestrong Day...because it's not just Lance's cancerversary, it's honoring all cancer survivors who keep on living strong.

Hope, Love, Run,
Marathon Girl

FD 70

Just over 24 hours ago I returned from Montana. I spent a week there, and it was awesome. I met ten other young adult cancer survivors who had all participated in a previous First Descents experience. Our camp was considered an 'FD 2' because we were all returning participants, although my last time in a kayak was two summers ago. As I mentioned before I left, there is a magic that occurs at First Descents, and at previous camps, this took some time to develop, but knowing that the week would fly, we made quick work of getting acquainted. In no time, nicknames were exchanged and fun commenced.

Side note: Nicknames are an FD tradition, and are the only names used at camp...you can go a whole week without hearing your real name, and it's strange to find out at the end of the week that someone you've been calling Symbol, Marvel, or Half-Baked actually goes by a 'normal' name.

I can't describe in detail what happened at camp, because although the days flew, it also seemed that a week's worth of living happened within each day. So I think that I'll post select pictures and tell a story about each to try to explain what exactly happens at FD, but I'm not sure there are words to accurately describe the experience.

Tri-ing it out

So it's been a little over two weeks since the Cancerversary Half-Marathon, and about a week after, I ran a 5K, almost breaking my PR, despite the humid, 90+ degree temps. I was within seconds of equaling a time I earned last summer in the Sprintin' Clinton 5K, and although I didn't break the record, I was happy with myself.

Since then, I've been itching for a new goal, and I think I want to branch out a little bit. I decided I needed to step up my game with this new challenge. I contemplated a full marathon, but then I got my first issue of Women's Health Magazine. My best friend got me a subscription for my birthday- probably because when I visited her last summer, I left with a backpack full of past issues she had in her apartment. In the May issue, there's an article titled, 'Yes, You can be a Triathlete'

I read every word, probably about three times, now. And I remembered back to last summer when I was working on the farm. I had many shifts pulling weeds with a young woman who worked in the cycling industry and was avidly active. She said on more than one occasion, "You do a half-marathon, the next thing you're going to want to do is a tri."

At the time, I nodded, smiled, and kept pulling weeds. I didn't have any real interest in biking and swimming. I loved running.

But here I am a year later...A week into the Women's Health Triathlon training program. So far, the training has seemed light, and I am thinking about skipping ahead because it seems the program's starting point isn't accounting for the fact that I just trained for and ran a half-marathon, so perhaps I'll be tri-ready in less than the recommended three months.

At any rate, I am excited to commit to a new challenge and take on swimming and cycling!

I'll keep you posted on my progress!

Hope, Love, Run,
Marathon Girl (Triathlon Girl?)

Time to Go!

My bags aren't packed yet, but by the end of the day, I'll be in Boston, ready to run the half-marathon tomorrow morning! The forecast looks very promising- cloudy and 65-75 degrees during the time I'll be running. I'm psyched and feel well prepared for this race. I was ready when I did it in the fall, but I had been dealing with significantly more injuries- hip and knee pain, a foot issue, and the pain of minor shin splints which seem to be inevitable for me. But this time around, things are are feeling a lot better- Thanks to custom running orthotics, conscientious stretching, and trail running many of my longer runs. I have developed a minor shin splint in the last few weeks, but with ice, it's been manageable.

I still haven't reached my fund raising goal, but I have hope that I'll still get there! If you are considering contributing, take a look at my page, and watch the video there. If it moves you, give a few dollars.

My actual 5-year cancerversary is Sunday, June 5th, but the celebration officially starts tomorrow at 8:00 AM.

Hope, Love, Run,
Marathon Girl

Hair: Part 3, The Final Cut

Me and my hair :)

Below is the letter I included with my ponytail. For the whole nine (inches) see parts 1 and 2 below.

Dear Pantene Beautiful Lengths,

I felt compelled to include a letter with my donation. I hope you will take a few moments to read it. I understand that you get ponytails every day, and mine is probably very similar to dozens you have received, but my hair comes with a story. My name is Juliana, I am twenty-five years old, and I am a cancer survivor.

When I was diagnosed with cancer just after the close of my junior year of college, I had long, beautiful hair. As my life unraveled in the coming months, as I endured surgery after surgery, my hair remained. But a few months later, as I began my senior year of college, I also embarked on a twelve-month chemotherapy regiment. Over the course of the next four months, my long, thick hair began to thin. I cut it short, then shorter still, not because I wanted to, but because I couldn't bear to part with what was left of it. I didn't realize until I began to lose it, how much my hair made me look like myself. Losing my hair was one of the most disturbing experiences I have ever endured. My heart aches thinking about it. It hurt even more because I had no control over it.

In September 2007, when I finished treatment, I swore I would not cut my hair short ever again. I wanted it to be long. But it grew at a painfully slow rate. I had aspirations of one day donating it, but I didn’t think I could ever bring myself to cut it short again. That was more than three years ago. I decided yesterday that I wanted to cut my hair. Unlike the haircuts I had four years ago, this one was my choice.

So while the hair in this envelope may look like all the other ponytails you get, I can assure you it is different. The hair you hold is nine inches and three years of post-treatment cancer survivorship. This hair came with me to my college graduation, my first job, countless doctors’ appointments. It saw me through the years spent putting my life back together after cancer. It wrote a memoir, won the Lilly Oncology On Canvas Art completion, and most recently, trained for and ran its first half marathon. So please understand that this hair was a part of me. It is special. I ask that you take good care of it, and I trust that you’ll see that it is used it to give hope to another woman with cancer.

Thank you for allowing me to share my story and pass along hope to another woman.

The Half Marathon: Promise Kept

for the first time ever on the blog, this is me. After the race :)

At the close of my Six Mile July Challenge, I committed to running a half marathon by the end of 2010. And, with just under two months left, I ran the first annual Bird-in-Hand half marathon to benefit the Bird-in-Hand fire department. I didn't take the challenge lightly, I followed a Nike+ running program almost to the letter. My training went well overall, but the longest I ever ran in a long training run was twelve miles. So as I set out for the destination of the marathon yesterday, it was the uncharted territory of those 1.1 miles that had me a little nervous. It took about two hours to get to Bird-in-Hand, Pennsylvania. The village of Bird-in-Hand is located in the heart of Lancaster County's Amish community. As we drove closer to the packet pick-up location, traveling on narrow roads flanked by endless fields of farmland, there were more black horse drawn buggies than cars.

Once I had my packet, which included a race course map, I drove the course- I actually did it twice because some wrong turns led to a seventeen mile loop, and I didn't think I had a good feel for the course after the first drive-through. The majority of the course was flat, with a few up hill stretches and one very long downhill that was nearly half a mile.

I turned in early for the night, knowing I'd be up early to allow enough time carry out my normal pre-run routine, and drive to the race start. That drive was supposed to be eleven minutes, but thanks to there only being one way to get into Bird-in-Hand, it took closer to half an hour, which was fine, since it meant less time standing outside in the 30-something degree weather!

I admit I made a key mistake as soon as I got to the race location- I didn't do my normal stretching routine. I warmed up before leaving the hotel, but I didn't stretch. Why? I had time, so I don't really have a good reason...I guess in the excitement, I forgot. Despite this really amateur error, I was focused. I knew I needed to start easy if I was going to make it all the way through without hitting the infamous 'wall'. So I focused on keeping a consistent and comfortable pace, not getting caught up in passing people to get closer to the front.

Throughout the entire race, I was glad I had taken the time to drive the course; there is something comforting about knowing where you're going and seeing things that look familiar.

So what made my race experience special? There were a few things that I think made this race unique. First, I'm sure people living on any race course come out to cheer on runners passing by, but there were so many people! At the end of nearly every driveway was a family- an Amish family- cheering us on as we passed by. This continued throughout the entire course, and I must say, I was amused, and I really liked it.

The next difference came as I approached mile 2, where there was a bathroom stop. Now I haven't run any other races this long, but I'm willing to bet that there aren't any others that have their facilities at Amish one-room school houses. In case you're wondering, all the schools on the route had a fenced in yard and two small outbuildings- that's right- good old fashioned outhouses for the boys and the girls. I almost stopped out of curiosity, but resisted the urge in favor of a better finishing time.

If you haven't gotten the feeling already, the Amish seem to be a pretty hospitable people. But they did more than just cheer on runners and share their outhouses, they also enthusiastically manned every water station. Men, women, and children held out cups of water as they cried out words of encouragement. It was cool, but it was more moving to recognize that what we were seeing was how the 'English' community of Bird-in-Hand work cooperatively with their Amish neighbors. For a small town to put on a big race like this, it was, well, impressive, and clearly a team effort.

While I was enjoying the countryside and the Amish, around mile 4 I started to get a nagging feeling in my hip, something that started in a long run about two weeks ago. I alleviated it by warming up the muscles before running, which I did today, but clearly my warm up was no match for the 30-degree weather and tense muscles that come with racing. I stopped a few times to warm the muscles up again, and it was bearable. Then somewhere between mile 8 and 9, I started to get pain on the side of my right knee, something I hadn't felt since last spring when I increased my mileage too quickly. I knew it was my iliotibial band. I got through that injury with some iliotibial specific stretches, which I do before and after every run, with the exception of this one, since I forgot. Oops.

The pain was bad, but not enough to stop me. I pushed through, knowing that if I finished strong, there were no upcoming training runs to save myself for. This was it. As I ran into the muddy chute, which was located in a field, I kept running, needing to cross the mats that would register the chip tied to my shoe, and give me my official finishing time.

Feeling the mud squishing under my sneakers, knowing what I'd just accomplished, it was awesome. When I saw the clock, I was surprised. My goal was to finish in under 2:15, but I decided I would be happy with anything under 2:20, realistically. But as I crossed, the big clock said 2:09, and I knew I my chip time would be a little less that that, because I started in the back of the pack. My final official chip time was 2:07:13. A volunteer cut the chip off my shoe, as another placed a medal over my head. I really did it.

As I write this, I am laying on the couch, ice on my knee, heat on my hip, and I have been laying here for most of the afternoon. My body hurts, so, so much. But I have no regrets. Today was another victory, another promise kept with myself, and once again I have proved to myself that cancer has nothing on me. I feel that by running a half, I have proved something to myself, and hopefully to you. If I can do it, so can you. Pick a challenge. Own it. Prove to yourself and the world what you can do. Why? Because I promise, for all the hard work you'll have to put in, accomplishing something like this feels really, really good.

Hope, love, run,
(Half) Marathon Girl...I feel like I finally own that name :)