Hi. Remember me? I launched this blog in January 2013 as a
way of chronicling my Ironman journey. I promised I’d only write when I had
something meaningful to say and that it would never be a boring account of my training. I
learned a lot and shared some things throughout that training cycle. And then I
went silent. Writing nothing throughout my 2014 season. Why? Because I didn’t
think I had anything to share. I had learned a lot in my first go at Ironman
and was quietly doing the work. You may recall my mantra for 2013 was
#doepicshit. In stark contrast, 2014 was simply the year of #dothework. I did
the work. There are some parts of the season I'd like to erase. I took some time off. And the truth is, I’ve been back at it for the
2015 season for some time now.
On December 1st I committed to a month-long run
streak, whereby I would run every single day in December, ending with a hurrah
with First Run on New Year’s Day. This was undertaken as a means to jumpstart
my pre-season, establish some routine, and build some durability. Which is
really all a diluted way of saying I needed to drop ten pounds. Well….we don’t
always stick to the plan and one thing I’ve learned in training and life is you
have to allow yourself some latitude to modify the course.
Nope. I didn’t do the 31 days of running I committed to. I
did 60. You see…on December 3rd (just two days after my streak
began), one of my closest friends put his entire life on hold so that he and
his wife could take up temporary residence in NYC. Lucky them, right? Not so
fast. They were making this move to seek out the best cancer treatment in the
world. <Gulp.> My friend John has been battling thyroid cancer for over five
years. He has undergone four surgeries and countless blood tests, xrays, poking and prodding, and
constant surveillance since day one. All while that fucking disease continued to
proliferate and take over healthy cells.
Thyroid cancer is rare and makes up only 1% of all cancers, although it is one of the fastest growing cancers and the rate of growth in Vermont far outpaces the national average. No one knows why. John and I are part of the 1%. Lucky us…..or something like that. Anyway, I’m getting a bit off topic here. The run streak….we were talking about the run streak. On December 3rd, John and Shosh moved to NYC and on December 6th he began seven grueling weeks of daily radiation and weekly chemotherapy. The day he moved, I dedicated my streak to John and agreed to streak until his treatment was over. December 1 to January 23…54 days. So why 60? Well, I am an Ironman after all and when you’re that close, we tend to go for broke. Not to mention, John’s fight was far from over just because the treatment ceased. So I continued to streak, no matter what life or Ma Nature threw at me.
Thyroid cancer is rare and makes up only 1% of all cancers, although it is one of the fastest growing cancers and the rate of growth in Vermont far outpaces the national average. No one knows why. John and I are part of the 1%. Lucky us…..or something like that. Anyway, I’m getting a bit off topic here. The run streak….we were talking about the run streak. On December 3rd, John and Shosh moved to NYC and on December 6th he began seven grueling weeks of daily radiation and weekly chemotherapy. The day he moved, I dedicated my streak to John and agreed to streak until his treatment was over. December 1 to January 23…54 days. So why 60? Well, I am an Ironman after all and when you’re that close, we tend to go for broke. Not to mention, John’s fight was far from over just because the treatment ceased. So I continued to streak, no matter what life or Ma Nature threw at me.
 |
| Is this safe to run on? |
Maybe you know I live in Vermont. Maybe you know we’ve had
some extreme weather this winter. By extreme I do not mean snow (which I would
LOVE). It has been brutally cold and icy, with wind that rips through you,
blows the tears out of your eyes, and then freezes them to your face. Every day
I was out there. Running for JT. Outside. When it was bliss…I ran for JT. When
it hurt….I ran for JT. When I didn’t want to….I ran for JT. In the dark….I ran
for JT. Every. Damn. Day. Because no combination of outside elements and
residual fatigue in my world could compare to the barrage of hellfire he was
under. I ran. Because I can. JT came home Saturday having endured the
treatments with courage and strength. He did it while inspiring us, always
keeping a smile, and often making us laugh. He is a truly remarkable human
being and I am lucky to have him in my inner circle. While he thanked me
profusely for streaking on his behalf telling me he would draw strength from me
as he became weak, the truth is, it is I who drew strength from him. Thank you,
JT. I love you so much.
A little back story on JT and I….we first met in 2010 when I
started a new job at the company where he works. He had heard about me and
sought me out to introduce himself. JT was in the midst of his first year of
treatment and I was barely a year post treatment. I didn’t want to talk about
cancer. JT took a very public approach to his journey, whereas I kept mine
secret. Maybe if I didn’t talk
about it, it would go away….I don’t know. I just know I never talked about it.
I gave JT the cold shoulder (as I probably often do when people rock me outside
my comfort zone). He came back a week later. Secretly I was annoyed. I made it very
clear I did not want to talk about cancer. JT played by my rules for a while,
but before I knew it, we were talking openly about it. The similarities and
differences, strategies for coping, and at some point the realization JT was
one of the most influential people in my life.
You’re reading this blog so you know I do triathlon. You might even think the only persona of Nancy is that of triathlete or Ironman. JT gets some serious credit for inspiring me to give it a tri, I mean try. He encouraged me to learn how to swim and connected me with my first swim coach. He took me on my first bike ride on the open road. He accompanied me on all my long runs when I trained for my first marathon…16-18-20 miles. He took me on my first trail run. He taught me that running was a year-round sport…even in Vermont! John was there in Lake Placid in both 2013 and 2014 cheering me on. Shoshi too! (He made me cry. Both times.) So yup, this guy is pretty important to my program.
You’re reading this blog so you know I do triathlon. You might even think the only persona of Nancy is that of triathlete or Ironman. JT gets some serious credit for inspiring me to give it a tri, I mean try. He encouraged me to learn how to swim and connected me with my first swim coach. He took me on my first bike ride on the open road. He accompanied me on all my long runs when I trained for my first marathon…16-18-20 miles. He took me on my first trail run. He taught me that running was a year-round sport…even in Vermont! John was there in Lake Placid in both 2013 and 2014 cheering me on. Shoshi too! (He made me cry. Both times.) So yup, this guy is pretty important to my program.
 |
| JT and I at Run Your Can Off |
My program….The run streak may be over, but I’m carrying
with me a level of fitness it took until March to achieve last year and a
refreshed attitude for what it means to tackle the hard stuff. Base Building
Phase 1 is for building durability. Did that. And so much more...
I shared this with you to honor John, but also as a harsh
dose of perspective. If your life is sucking because you hate your job or
you’re sick of being cold or your car won’t start or your co-worker is being a
douche bag, maybe you should put things in perspective and reflect on what real
pain and suffering might be. I believe real pain and suffering looks like radioactive
frequencies beamed into your body and toxic juice pumped into your veins….all
of which renders you sicker than the cancer you’re trying to cure. Other things
too, but most will never know true pain and suffering. Lucky you. The rest, mere
inconvenience. Perspective people.
The 2015 season is sure to include some excitement. More about that another time. Off to go ride my bike…
