Miles of trials

Holli calls Elliott her baby a lot and I confess that I tease her sometimes about it.  In truth, I understand why she does this because the memories of Elliott as a small, helpless infant are so burned into my mind and I am still sometimes shocked to see him run, jump, talk and play as the four year-old that he is.  At some point since my mom was diagnosed with cancer I realized that this frozen image of baby Elliott is not something that just impacts parents.

Last month, Holli, Elliott, and I were down visiting and my parents gave me a digital picture loaded with a variety of childhood pictures that my dad had recently digitized.  Despite the fact that I had not seen many of the pictures in decades, the images still seemed very fresh to me.  It was easy for me to remember what my parents looked like when I was a young child and, even as I followed the old pictures through decades and both I and they aged, they still seemed very much the same to me.  They are my parents and they will forever look like my parents, just like Elliott will always look to me like the small infant we brought home from the hospital.

That is why it was such an emotional shock when my mom was diagnosed with cancer.  The impact was compounded by the medical issues my dad suffered around the same time.  Frozen in my head was the image of them as middle-aged parents rather than the retired grandparents they have become.  I know that this shock was not one only felt by me and I'm very grateful for the support, especially from Holli, during those difficult early months.  I know intellectually that cancer can impact people of all ages and that medical issues come inevitably to everyone over time.  Still, there are times when changes comes so fast and so unexpectedly that it is difficult to catch up or to change with them.  It wasn't really on my emotional radar that either of my parents was getting older, much less that something like cancer could impact our family.

Thankfully, the fear and uncertainty of those early months is past us and this is a success story.  Tomorrow my mom starts her last chemotherapy treatment.  Friday she will have the portable pump for her last chemo drugs removed and she will officially be done with chemotherapy.  All signs indicate that she is cancer free.  Borrowing a phrase from John Parker in "Once a Runner" I think that she has gone through both a "trial of miles" and "miles of trials."  While I am grateful not to be able to speak from first-hand experience I suspect the latter is at least as challenging as the former.  In Parker's fictional novel about distance runners, the "trial of miles" refers to enduring through the miles of the current training run.  On the other hand the "miles of trials" refers to the necessity of getting up each day to do it again and again and again.

My mom's miles of trials are finished this week.  She went through chemotherapy again and again and again.  Soon she will be done.  In honor of this, I'd like to encourage you to make a donation to the American Cancer Society by clicking on the link to the right and then clicking on "Donate to Our Team."  If you are planning on joining us at Relay for Life on April 8th, please click on the link to the right and then click on "Join Our Team."  It should be fun and I figure I'm good to run/walk at least 60 or so miles over the 12 hour event.

Happy 2011!

Despite my best efforts putting together a training plan about a month ago, that basically fell apart after less than two weeks.  Perhaps it was my fault for starting a training plan during the holiday season.  That being said, I did get a solid 20 mile run and several 10 mile runs in over the break so I'm probably still on track to be in condition for Relay for Life in April.  I'm also planning on going to Kentucky for the Land Between the Lakes 50 miler on March 12 so that gives me an intermediate goal to keep me motivated.

Speaking of motivation, I haven't really had much lately.  This is despite that feeling of obligation to set some goals that I always feel at the beginning of the year.  Part of that feeling of obligation certainly stems from the talk of New Year's resolutions that permeates the media for the week following New Year's Day.  Also, since my birthday is January 5th (yes, tomorrow) I tend to get a little introspective in terms of what I would like to do before another year passes.  So do I have any grandiose plans as a 35 year-old?

Not really.  I'd like to do a little more cross training.  I'd like to finish the Kentucky run under 10 hours and to raise $5,000 through Relay for Life (there is an organizing meeting in a week or two so I'm going to start pushing for more donations soon).  I plan on entering the lottery for Western States again, but that's out of my control so I don't really consider that a goal.  Honestly, this all feels a little unspectacular when I consider the last few years of my first 50 miler, my first 100 miler, my 50k solo run on the Great Wall, and so on.

Perhaps 2011 will be my year of non-goals.  35 seems like a pretty good age to coast for a little bit--enjoy time with my family and enjoy running just for the sake of running.  The only problem is that I'm not very good at coasting and I keep thinking of other new things that I could be working on or striving for...

Why chemo is not like running

First, I would like to give a big thanks to my cousin Edward for a very generous donation and pursuit of matching funds from his company.  I would also like to thank my Uncle Shiu-fun and Aunt Celia for their donation and to Sandi for putting together the excellent logo pictured above.  Once I get through the fun of grading 90 research papers and watching 45 student presentations, I'm going to see what I can do about getting t-shirts made.  This weekend I had the pleasure of visiting with my parents and my Aunt Edith this weekend who flew down to Ohio from Canada (the roast pork was delicious!).  I know that my mom appreciates all the support she is receiving from all of her family members.

I had plenty of time to do some thinking on the drive back to Michigan and, despite the similarities that inspired the team name, I decided to do a blog post on why chemotherapy is not like running.  Why?  I think that running is sometimes too often compared to very real difficulties.  I run willingly because it brings me joy and I find satisfaction in overcoming the personal challenges involved.  I benefit through health and wellness and increased fitness levels.  Tying on my running shoes and heading out the door is an escape from my troubles and, typically, leaves me feeling more relaxed and at ease.  Going to chemo is decidedly not like that.

Going through chemotherapy is not optional.  It is not fun.  It does not leave one feeling better afterward.  It requires a complete reorganization of ones life to deal with drugs upon drugs and even more drugs to deal with the side effects of the first drugs.  It is not an exercise that, upon completion, leaves one feeling better.  Much the opposite, it leaves one feeling worse.  The whole process, which takes months, is a losing battle against fatigue, a declining immune system, and more.  The struggle is to lose slowly enough that the treatment can continue.  At the end is not a nice clean finish line, but relief mixed with continued uncertainty about the future.

I hope that didn't sound too negative.  In fact, I am a fan of running metaphors and do feel that there are very real similarities that exist.  However, I don't want to belittle the physically and psychologically difficult, but very necessary, process of cancer treatment by suggesting that it is the same as running, which when it comes down to it is just recreation.

Off and running (and donating)

It's actually a bit strange to be blogging again after taking a year off.  I am very proud to note that Team Single Step has already collected $510 thanks to generous donations by my mom and dad, Denise, Aunt Edith, Simon and Sally, Sandi and Andre.  We are already the team with the most donations collected so far!  I've decided to purchase the domain name for teamsinglestep.com and will be redirecting it shortly so that it is easier for people to make donations.

I don't have much to say about running.  I did a 25 mile run on Saturday to burn off the excess turkey consumption.  I've mostly been putting in a few 5 milers and 10 milers here and there with no clear training plan.  I confess that I've been more focused on the Western States 100 lottery that is being held on Saturday since this will largely dictate my running in 2011 (I ran the Fall Classic 50 in October as a qualification run.)  For those of you who aren't familiar with the race, it is probably the most famous 100 mile race in the country and, due to its mountain terrain and remoteness, it has a reputation as one of the toughest.  They use a lottery system since it is so popular and space is limited.  Just over 1600 people have applied, which means I only have around a 20% chance of getting in.  Keep your fingers crossed.

On a side note, does anyone have any ideas for T-shirt designs?  I really like the link between the team name and the Confucious quote so perhaps something Chinese.  I, unfortunately, lack any reasonable artistic skill, but I would be happy to send a free shirt to anyone who can come up with a good design.

My blog is active again!

I'm back and this time I'm preparing to run the 12 hour Relay for Life event at Saginaw Valley State University on April 8th to raise money for the American Cancer Society.  I'll make more updates to the blog as I gear up fundraising efforts.  However, the first step is that I need a team name.  Any ideas?  Please post them in the comments section!