I've Probably Lost My Mind

Between Daycare, life, life, and church, I'm pretty busy. But I promised a few people I would run something this year for DetermiNation, and this week I finally picked it. It'll be my first medalled race since Ragnar two years ago. And it's my first DNation race for three years.

And then Bowie died. And THEN Rickman died. And I just had to move before I lost that momentum. This is a big disease. This stupid thing takes SO many people. And I know that it's technically lots of different diseases that are grouped together.

And I also know that the American Cancer Society is a behemoth organization with occasionally questionable spending habits. But I can't deny that they run the world's largest research, support, and advocacy groups for cancer. And when anyone (against MY advice) Google's their diagnosis, Cancer.org is the first hit. And I just keep hoping that ACS keeps putting out thorough, balanced, intelligent information for people to read. Because the internet is scary. And Cancer is scary. Combining those two can freak people out hard core.

So I'm running. And Stephan is running. We picked the Soldier Field 10-Mile because it had no fundraising minimum, and was our first DNation race together. And we're recruiting like mad for more people to run with us because so many people are hurting right now because of cancer and this one small (?) thing can help lighten that pain. Training and fundraising for a race feels good. It's how I'm fighting back against the scary, the sad, and the angry.

"Please don't joke about cancer."

This is going to be confusing.

I'm reading Jenny Lawson's most recent book, Furiously Happy.
And when I went to post a loving comment on her blog I saw that the comment above mine was, "please don't joke about cancer." and I thought:
Ugh! Please DO joke about cancer!! That's what I've been saying for all these years!!

So I went back to her website today to try to re-comment on the cancer comment BUT what I found instead was awesome. And instead of reading any more words here, you should go read these other words:


These words. Click here and read and it's ok to cry a little.

6am... **Edited**

The alarm goes off...

(It's the first time since October I've needed to set it)

I grab running tights and a base layer...

(And a wind-proof layer, and sweat-clothes)

Print out directions...

(I KNOW my phone has GPS, but I like having something in my hands)

Eat a balanced breakfast...

(Plenty of carbs, add protein, maybe more carbs)

Maybe a little coffee...

(Hmm, maybe not. Don't know what the porta-potty situation will be)

Bottle of water, extra hat and gloves...

(All in blue and white)

And leave the house to start the season...

(No, not that season)

I'm volunteering as a sweep car driver at a 5k/10k this morning. Man, the things I do for zero dollars!!

**I did not get to drive a sweep car. I stood outside in 5* temperature next to Lake Michigan directing traffic away from runners. A stranger gave me her (sweaty) hand warmers. My toes went numb. Man, I love my charity.**

OMG You Guys

(Sometimes my brain thinks I'm 13)

That's all. That's all I wanted to tell you. In 8 miles I will have run 2000 miles post-cancer-foot. 

(I just wasted about 20 minutes finding out how far across the US this is. It's from Jacksonville, Florida, to San Diego, California, +/- 80 miles according to this complicated website)

Pay no attention to the pace though. I spent a LOT of time walking with this thing on simply to record mileage. Also, I was pregnant once. And ran a marathon in 6.5 hours. And... sigh. Most of the time I'm just slow. 

I'm planning to hit the 2k before next Wednesday so... yay!

Cancer...

Ever since I linked back to a big name blogger I've started getting requests to talk about things here. Although I'm excited to see what the mens' razor-blade company is going to want to say, there was another email that really caught my attention.

Heather Von St. James was diagnosed with mesothelioma eight years ago when her daughter was just an infant. (Mesothelioma is a lung cancer that is caused most often by inhaling asbestos)

Thud. Right? It's what I fear all the time when I'm quiet- that Sawyer would have to deal with a cancer diagnosis in our family. Here's the thing though... the life expectancy for that diagnosis is 15 months. So this lady is already amazing. Other interesting facts about Heather:

~She's absolutely beautiful
~She's a spokesperson for the Mesothelioma Cancer Alliance
~She had a mind blowing surgery that is too much for me to write about
~Her family is amazingly supportive (see video link below)

I'm all about raising awareness, so here is a link about the risk factors for getting this disease. In addition to asbestos exposure, smoking, radiation exposure, and a virus can contribute to it.

Check out www.mesothelioma.com/heather to learn more about her story and the Mesothelioma Cancer Alliance.


the doctor who took me seriously enough to remove the melanoma from my foot - the next doctor who spent more than an hour removing more tissue - crutches - the other doctor for watching patiently as I showed him each of the 12 spots I was worried about - a husband who tells me all the time that no matter what, I'm strong enough to get through anything

Milestone

According to the American Cancer Society, the five-year survival rate for Stage IA Melanoma is 97%.

Well... guess who got the all-clear from her dermatologist on Monday to join the 97%?? Me!! He reiterated that it's a great plan to keep up with the sun protection, but that my cancer was NOT sun-related. He suggested that Stephan takes pictures of the danger zones on my body like my back, arms and legs, and compare them to my actual body every 6 months or so.

I was also cleared to have a checkup every 12 months, instead of 6. This was huge. I walked out of the office witha huge smile on my face, and then broke down crying in the car. Cancer is finally past tense for me.

And... exhale.

Overheard: Post Run

[guest-authored by Stephan!!]

Me: How was your 10 mile Ragnar training run, honey?

Him: Uh. It kinda sucked. But then, you know, I started thinking about things.

Me: Yeah? Like that you're mad I signed you up for this? And listed your pace 30 seconds faster than it really is?

Him: No. Well, maybe. But no. I started thinking how we're running this thing for DetermiNation. And I thought of how many of my friends and family that cancer has come for.  So, I thought of getting the word out and making all this money for D-nation and turning loose an army of super smart geeks that will end up punching cancer in the eff'in mouth.  I thought, 'Hey cancer, we're coming for you.'

That got me through the last 3.

2am PSA

Should you talk to your doctor about your breast-cancer risks (especially after the Angelina Jolie news)? Absolutely. But don't forget: 

"Over a lifetime, one in eight women will be diagnosed with breast cancer, the most common cancer in women, other than skin cancer."

Sun. Block. Runners.

Overheard: Preschool Pickup

"Yeah, I like jogging. But I only do it for a month at a time and then I quit."

Let's review why this sentence was notable to me:

1. Jogging. No one jogs anymore. We run. Even if you're running a 13 minute mile, you're RUNNING. Joggers find dead bodies in parks. Runners collect t-shirts and medals. KEEP RUNNING!!!

2. One month of running. That's a warm-up. In 4 weeks you have just about established the groundwork for some serious mileage. After 4 weeks you can start speed work. Or start adding distance. After 4 weeks is when the magic happens. KEEP RUNNING!!!

3. Quitting. You're not quitting something if you keep doing it over and over again (i.e. drinking or smoking). You're just taking a break. Breaks happen. Sure. I don't have a problem with breaks. I take breaks all the time. Just don't quit. KEEP RUNNING!!!


Preschool mom and I don't run together. She's offered. But I've never run with a stranger before, and I'm nervous about being too slow. But this morning I handed her a pamphlet for the DetermiNation team. I told her that if she ever wanted to run a distance race they could train her to do it. Running for a charity adds a lot of things to a run. It keeps you accountable to people. If you quit, you let people down. It gives meaning to the miles you log- you're running to do some very real good in the world. And finishing the race is that much sweeter when you have an awesome fundraising total next to your name.

A Different Type of Relay

Imagine two suburbans packed with Cancer survivors, and their friends, on a 198 mile journey. Where are they going? Back for yet another round of testing? To explore a new treatment center? A prevention study? A support group? Rehab? What are they wearing? Medical dressings? Wigs? Paper gowns? What are they talking about? Side-effects? Surgical scars?

No. These suburbans are packed with survivors DetermiNated to fight against cancer. DetermiNated to relay to Chicago. DetermiNated to celebrate the American Cancer Society's 100th birthday in a BIG way. DetermiNated to help Finish the Fight. They are all wearing DetermiNation Red, White, and Blue. They are talking about their next races, their fundraising activities, and their supportive friends and family who have been with them the whole way.

Team DetermiNation 1 is made up of 12 people- both survivors and supporters- who are committed to bringing awareness to the fantastic efforts of the American Cancer Society and its DetermiNation endurance running program. Watch for the vans with the In Memory Of ribbons floating in the breeze, and the Survivors charging down the course, celebrating yet another birthday.

Click the link to find out how you can help use my 5th year cancer-free to make some amazing contributions to an amazing charity:

This is the Link. Click here.

Rare

I don't do this very often, but I just watched a video and voted (with one click) to send a DetermiNation athlete to compete in an IronMan in Hawaii. What got me crying was this: she could be any one of us. Any one of us "runners" or "healthy people" or "friends" or "family". And she keeps going.

I'm inspired by her words and her bravery. Please, click on this link, watch this video, and let yourself be inspired...


http://konainspired.thismoment.com/base/kona?region_id=&content_id=622

The View From Here

---or---

Two Stories



Everyone has that one thing they're freaked out about relating to their own health and mortality. For me, it's diabetes. I had a teacher in college who lost one foot, then a leg, then another foot, all to diabetes. It eats your body. And... the most painful thing... a lot of times... it's a lifestyle disease. What you put in your body, and what you do with your body, has everything to do with this disease.

I was once asked to drive a diabetic person to a routine health screening. They looked up at me terrified and asked, "What if it's cancer?"

My brain answered, "Cancer? I did cancer. Cancer can be easy. What if it's diabetes?!"


Second Story:

There is a giant study the American Cancer Society is conducting. It's called Cancer Prevention Study-3. That's a link you can click if you want to check it out. I learned about it during a volunteer training a few weeks ago. The friend next to me nudged me and asked, "Did you sign up yet?"

"No. I don't qualify."

"Why not?"

"You can't have had cancer already. And I've had it."

"Aw, your cancer didn't count. Oh, I mean, I'm sorry. That was rude."

"No, dude. You just made my day."

"I'm So Sorry."

I'm young(ish). I'm fit(ish). I'm thin(ish). I'm healthy. But when I mentioned to someone this week that I'd had cancer he said, "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry." It prompted me to make the following list.

Because of cancer I lost 25 pounds.
Because of cancer I ran a marathon.
Because of cancer I put sunblock on every inch of skin I see.
Because of cancer I eat less processed and junk food.
Because of cancer I get all my regular screenings.
Because of cancer I raised more than $1000 for the ACS.
Because of cancer I can relate to a LOT of people.
Because of cancer I spend a lot of time being grateful for every step I take.

I am healthier because of cancer. That's nothing to be sorry about.

Today I...

... Drove in reverse the wrong way down a one way street

... Carried a dog in a Baby Bundler

... Cheered for the person who came in first at the Chicago Marathon

... Cheered for the person who came in dead last at the Chicago Marathon

... Had a cat funeral

... Came to terms with one of the more monumental days of my life.

6am Just Wasn't Early Enough

I wake up at 6am to run.

I wake up at 5am to watch people run.

Huh.

This morning is the Bank of America Chicago Marathon. It is a race I once comemmorated by running from an actual Bank of America bank near my house to an actual Marathon gas station about 1/2 mile away. I'm already in DNation blue. I'm carbo-loading with leftover Pad Thai. I've packed a baby carrier for the puppy that will be joining us this morning. There's also a giant tent in my car, and about 3 days worth of snacks for me. Current temperature: 41F.

I'm so excited. And nervous.

As of this morning, they've raised $1,150,945.62

Each runner raised a MINIMUM of $900. Let's pretend that's an even $1000. What does that get us?

97,835 new cancer patients contacted with personalized, cancer specific information

or

28,775 car rides to treatment for patients

or

23,020 patients given free pain medicine to help deal with treatment side effects

or

11,510 cancer survivors trained to give hands-on support

or

11,510 disadvantaged patients provided case management services through an ACS social worker

or

25,322 wigs

or

23.020 parties for pediatric cancer patients, hosted by medical students


So.... there's that. And I better get moving if I'm going to start layering all my blue and red and grab a coffee before I head out. Stay warm today, and send a few encouraging thoughts towards our 900 DNation runners (and the 45,000 total runners) about to take off this morning.

Dim Sum

-or-

A post about a lot of little things.


Alrighty people. Go getcha selves a cupa tea. This one is gonna be a doozie.


First. Zombies. Several of the Zombie transmissions are recorded under the premis that the person talking has no idea if there's anyone listening. They're talking and letting their ideas out into the universe without knowing if they're being received. Sometimes I feel like that. I type words. I hit "Publish." And then.... I have no idea what happens after that. I know I've picked up a few readers from my activity on the Runner's World Facebook page... and it's possible my family might still have saved the link. But... I don't know. Echo... tap tap... is this thing on?

Second. Scoring a different game. Cancer was a big deal. I was 29. It was Melanoma- the deadliest form of skin cancer. I loved the sun. I actually had a tanning package at the time because it helped me ward off the winter blahs. With one punch-biopsy my life changed. No more sun. Gotta lose weight. Check ups every 3 months, then every 6 months for the next ten years. I wasn't going to take Cancer laying down. I "shut up and put my shoes on." Cancer changed my game, and I rose to meet the challenge.

Third. Acceptance. (Which I realize should have been the first step... but whatever.) The morning I was waiting on the phone call from the doctor about my current Cancer condition I had my game face on. I was ready. I wrote a manifesto about it. It was titled, "If it's Cancer..." The good news: it wasn't Cancer. The bad news... later that day I showed up to an appointment with a psychotherapist. This wasn't my first appointment. I was feeling pretty invincible after getting the good news. I felt great. By the end of our 50-minute hour I walked out of the office with a brand-new diagnosis: bipolar II.

I know, I know. I've heard it all in the last few weeks...
"Aren't all women bipolar?"
"Well, there's something wrong with everyone..."
"This sounds made-up."
"If that's what's wrong with you- I wonder what's wrong with me??"
"Yeah, I knew that. How did you not know that?"
"That's crap. The therapist's kids must need braces."

Regardless of what anyone in the world says, this disease kills 20% of the people who have it. And that number rises with several factors. And many of those factors apply to me. So I can't blow this off. I gotta do bipolar with the same gusto as I would have done Cancer. I can't ignore 20%.

What's the care-plan for bipolar II?
For now, we as a family, are choosing against pharmaceuticals. The therapist told us that this is NOT recommended. This is definitely a different path for this diagnosis. But we're ok with that. Stephan is a medical professional. We really trust our therapist. We're not going into this blindly. At the first sign of the Alternative Medicine failing we're getting back onto the med-train. But for now, this week, we're focusing on three things: Sleep, Eating, Exercise.

I'm supposed to write down how I'm doing in each of those three categories and bring it to my next session. Of course, this is ME we're talking about, so I've already created a 'tool' to measure how I'm doing using numerical values so I can compare them on a spreadsheet over the next few weeks.

So, there you go, Internet (or echo, or whatever). That's what's going on with Anna lately. It does make the, "Just be Anna" directive a little more complicated. "Anna" feels a little under construction at the moment. Stay tuned for updates.

Bi-Bi

Although I'm still convinced that this is NOT a cancer blog, I just wanted to share that I have yet another biopsy next week. This time, it's on my face. So here's hoping it's nothing too terrible.

Also, I got a new phone. Who cares? Me. And Nike+ GPS. And.....

More drum roll....

Even more.....

More still....

Zombies, that's who.

Not a Cancer Blog

I said I wasn't going to write any more about cancer. So I'll just let other people's words speak for me.

Meet Suleika Jaouad.

And as far as running goes- I've decided to be lazy for another week and catch up on things like doctor's appointments and laundry. Also, Pretty Little Liars and celebrity fashion. Everyone needs a vacation from their problems!

Intervention: Cancer

I was going to stop blogging about cancer as soon as the Rock n Roll 1/2 marathon was over (for which you could still donate here.) But then I thought of a fun post while I was in the shower, so you get one more.

***If we were to hold an Intervention for Cancer***

***A&E Style***

Ca: Hi. My name is Cancer. C.A.N.C.E.R. and I... I just can't stop myself.

I: Cancer, I'm an interventionist. I've been with these people since last night. They all have something they want to say to you. They'll say some things, then you'll say some things, and then we're done. Ok?
Ca: Sure. Whatever. But I'm not going anywhere.
I: That's fine. Just listen.

#1: Cancer. You have affected my life negatively in the following ways: I'm always afraid when I think you're coming around. I dread answering the phone because I keep thinking it might be you. You've torn apart families, stolen children, and ruined lives. I keep expecting you to go away for good, but you always keep coming back. Will you please accept the gift we are offering you today?

Ca: Whatever. You don't know me.

#2: Cancer. I have seen you destroy so many lives. You steal money. You make people sick. You move into a house and just sit there for weeks or months. You sap people's energy, and keep them from enjoying their lives. When you are around it's so much harder to live the lives we want to live- to do the things we want to do- to make plans for the future. Will you please accept the gift we are offering you today?

Ca: No. I'm not going anywhere.

#1: Cancer. If you do not accept this gift of treatment today I will no longer sit idly by and watch you destroy any more lives. You will not be welcome in my home. I will not allow you to occupy space in my mind. I will do everything I can to keep my body and mind healthy so you have nowhere to live anymore. If you do not accept treatment today, I will fight as hard and as long as I can to make sure you never destroy another life.

#2: Cancer. If you do not accept this gift of treatment today I will put all of my efforts into getting rid of you for good. I will dedicate my time and my money to helping those who are actively working against you. I will support everyone who fights against you. I will provide them with knowledge, with resources, and with the comfort and support they need to stand up to you. I will not sit and wait for you to return. I will be an active participant in my OWN life and in my OWN recovery, regardless of your decision today.

I: Cancer? Do you have anything you would like to share with us?
Ca: No. This is !@#$ %^&. You people....



Yeah, that's as far as I got. I'm taking suggestions for endings. Cancer storms out of the room? Goes out for a smoke and has a buddy pick him up? Gets on a plane for a recovery treatment center in California??

FAQ's: RnR 1/2

Q: Did you want to finish in a specific time?

A: I was aiming for less than 2 hours 45 minutes, but, as always, the real goal was to finish feeling good enough to be a good parent later in the day.

Q: Do you think I could run a marathon?

A: Yes. Finishing a marathon is just a matter of dedicating yourself to your training. 

Q: Does your foot still hurt where the surgeries were?

A: Sometimes. It's a different width than the left one, so I'm still trying to find good shoes. 

Q: What does your doctor think about you doing so much stuff outside?

A: He's excited that I'm maintaining a healthy lifestyle. He cautions me about being outside during the middle of the day and appreciates that I'm diligent with sunblock. 

Q: Do you want to run another marathon?
A: Yes, definitely. But it takes a lot of scheduling, so it'll be a while.

Q: What's your next race?

A: I have no idea. Maybe the Schaumburg 1/2 again at Thanksgiving.