Category Archives: Cancer

Do you have a backup plan?

Stuff happens. Slipping and falling or unexpected surgery, these are just a couple examples of situations that may make an athlete have to come to an unexpected and sudden stop in training. How, as an athlete, do you adjust mentally and physically to this?

Now is the time to focus on the positive, and refocus your energy. The sudden stop has been described as post-race blues on steroids. You do not want to go down a potential downward spiral that will be very difficult to battle up from.

Here are some ideas of some things you can do to help you refocus (or distract) and remain positive:

• Hone in on proper nutrition

• Sleep

• Read some good books

• Watch a movie

• Get caught up on past seasons of The Walking Dead (or other shows you have always wanted to see)

• Take up a new hobby. Coach Christina swears by knitting

• Get a massage

• If physically capable, embrace, and practice Yoga.

• Meditate

These are just some ideas to get the wheels turning in your head for backup.

Plan for it, have a backup plan in place so you can embrace the sudden stop if the unexpected happens.

What if this happens and you have signed up for a race you can no longer do? Contact the Race Director, ask for deferral. You never know until you ask. Many races are becoming more open to this, but don’t expect it, most do not. Some races now offer “race cancellation insurance” for a small fee $5-$7. You can purchase insurance that will offer you a registration refund and/or guaranteed deferral in the event of the unexpected prevents you from racing.

If the inevitable happens and you can’t defer or get a referral, write it off in your head. It’s a race, a medal, and a t-shirt. There will be others. Easier said than done, but if you accept that, you will make your “time off” easier to bear.

Start looking forward to and get excited for your “come back”.

I say this a lot: If you don’t plan for it, it will happen. If you do plan, it won’t. One can only hope.

One this is for certain, if you take care of yourself, you will come back from your sudden stop stronger than ever before.

So, all this being said…what is your backup plan?

Be Healthy, Train Smart, Have Fun

Coach Kristie

I wrote this 3 weeks ago, little did I know (as I post this) I would be day 6 into mandatory rest due to unexpected surgery. Now…I practice what I preach.

This post can be seen in it’s original form: http://prsfit.com/articles/have-a-backup-plan/

Cancerversary Part 4. My Message to You

Cancerversary-n. – 1._______________ 2. The anniversary of my first Cancer diagnosis

Part 4. My Message to You

Some things never change. Only a select few were aware that as I was writing Part 3. of this series, I had gone to yet “just another doctor’s appointment”. I was awaiting test results, again. I am happy and lucky to say, everything turned out ok.  This has become a pattern of how I personally have come to cope with each test, biopsy, etc. There is no wrong or right with how someone reacts to Cancer. There is no instruction manual on how to support someone with cancer, or to support the loved one who is affected as well.

My Message to those fighting and surviving Cancer:

It is ok to be scared, angry, bitter, sad, overwhelmed. Whatever your feelings, they are valid. They are your feelings. Period.  Your life matters. You matter.

My Message to those who know someone affected by Cancer:

You may be the spouse, child, friend, or coworker of someone affected by Cancer. You may know them socially or may be the one who will have to help care for them.  Like I mentioned above it is okay for you too to be scared, angry, bitter, sad, overwhelmed. Whatever your feelings, they are valid too.

Here are some tips on how you can offer support to someone affected by Cancer:

  • Don’t sing songs to the heavy heart.  Phrases that discredit a person’s feelings of fear, despair, sadness: “cheer up”, “it’s no big deal”, “you’ll be fine” while they may have good intentions, they only throw salt on the wound.
  • Listen. Don’t talk. Don’t feel the need to fill silence. Let the person talk, or be silent. Be a sounding board. People’s emotions are all over the place. I am a talker, I think out loud. Sometimes I just need to get it out.  It may be gibberish, but it’s a way I cope and many others do.
  • Don’t try to solve or fix the situation. Many people dive in “you need to do this, you need to do that”.  Again, listen, don’t try to solve anything, unless you are asked.
  • When in doubt, ask. Ask the person “what can I do to support you?” They may want you to listen, help them research treatment options. They may say they need to be distracted. They may not even know.
  • Don’t offer tissues. In my Stephen Ministry training this was one of the best examples used in how in a situation people rush to make it “all better” and don’t allow a person to feel their emotions. Example: If tissues are on a table and someone is crying, don’t pick up the tissues and hand them to them. Some people need the cleansing of the tears. Tissues handed to someone signal it’s time to quit crying and dry up the tears. The tissues are there, they will reach for them if they want them. Let people cry.
  • If you love them, tell them. People need to know they matter, that they are loved. The feelings of being alone and invisible can be overpowering.
  • Touch them. Cancer is not contagious. Hug them. Simply place your hand on their hand, shoulder, etc. There is nothing more comforting than human touch.

 

I could list 100’s of 1000’s of tips. I really could. Bottom line, let people feel and cope the way they need to. Everyone reacts a different way. No two people and no two cancers are alike.  One thing is for certain, Cancer is Cancer. No matter the type or severity. It’s Cancer.

My last message to everyone:

BE HEALTHY. You owe it to yourself and those who love you. Take care of yourself. Eat right. Exercise. Wear Sunscreen. Get regular checkups. Early detection is the key to survival.

For me, I have come to accept that it’s not if I have Cancer again, but when. I choose to be as healthy as possible due to the fact if Cancer knocks on my door again; it is in for a HUGE fight. I have a husband who loves me and little boy who I WILL be there for him as he grows up.

To everyone who followed this series, thank you for taking the time to stop and read. It was painful and scary to share my story. I still have kept some things private. My life with Cancer has too many painful memories, so those details didn’t and may never come out.

As always, like we say at PRSFit Nation:

Be Healthy, Train Smart, Have Fun…and one more thing…FIGHT CANCER

 

*Special thanks to Lori Hauck and Krista Greaves who were my sounding boards while writing this series. I cannot express how much I appreciate you both.

Cancerversary Part. 3 Time to Get Healthy

Cancerversary-n. – 1._______________ 2. The anniversary of my first Cancer diagnosis

Part 3. Time to get healthy

I hadn’t felt right. Things were just weird. My spidey senses were going off and I had called my doctor to schedule an appointment.  I wasn’t to see him for a few days. I just remember his words echoing in my head that I had been reversing the damages of the cancer with some of my new healthy habits.

On my way home from work one day on a whim I decided to stop at the drug store. Something told me to. Now I stood in the bathroom staring at the little white stick on the counter.  The word “PREGNANT” was plain as day.

I remember going to the doctor’s office scared out of my mind. What if I was pregnant and had cervical cancer again? What would I do? After a battery of tests it was official. I still had no trace of cancer, but I did have something new. A miracle. I was going to have a baby.

Weeks later as my belly began to grow. I did as every woman does. I went to the mirror and pulled up my shirt to look at my growing belly. Then I saw them. Tan lines. Up until I found out I was pregnant I was still going to tanning beds.  Yes, the multiple skin cancer survivor was still using tanning beds. Not unlike the lung cancer survivor who still smokes. It’s not right, it’s awful, don’t judge, but it happens.

The tan lines made me furious. How could I jeopardize my health?  I now was bringing a baby into this world. I lost my father to a heart attack when I was 10, a heart attack that could have been prevented if he had taken care of his health. I refused to think of leaving my child without a mother.   I got in the car and took my tanning bed membership card and returned it to the business. I walked in, handed it to them, and never went back.

Some people are blessed with what I call “pretty pregnant”.  They look the same, have the nice round belly. No complications. They have the baby and walk out of the hospital in their pre-baby clothes. Then there was me. My body went on strike. It could fight cancer left and right with the gusto of Rocky, but pregnancy? Nope, my body decided it didn’t want any part of it. I was a high risk pregnancy, and I had a multitude of complications. My body swelled up. I looked like a long lost cousin of Jabba the Hut.  Eventually I was put on bed rest.  All through this miserable pregnancy, the part that mattered the most…I was carrying a healthy baby, boy.

Then after a long, painful attempt at vaginal delivery just shy of a scene from a horror movie where I practically grabbed my doctor by the shirt and said (well, yelled) “get him OUT OF ME” I was wheeled in for a C-section. My son was not coming out on his own, a C-section was now necessary.  My doctor was prepping me for the C-section and noticed a very large scar on my lower abdomen.  It was from one of my previous melanomas (remember? the one where the sun didn’t shine?). My doctor looked at me and said “I am going back in through this scar”.  My beautiful, miracle of a healthy baby boy…was born via an opening made from an existing scar left by cancer.  Something that could have killed me, was now giving life.

I made a private vow to God when I kissed my son for the first time. I vowed to be healthy, from now on. If not for me, but for this precious gift I was given. My son.

When I finally cleared the fog of postpartum depression (that’s a blog post for another time) and given the green light to resume exercise, I had a big mess to work with. My body was nowhere near what it once was. Pregnancy and childbirth took a toll on me. I needed help. I contacted a personal trainer. I could not do this on my own.

With her help I took my body and my health back. I made serious lifestyle changes. I hate the word “diet”. It’s lifestyle, not “diet”. You choose to eat healthy or you don’t. Calories in, calories out, garbage in, garbage out. You truly ARE what you eat. I started devouring all the information I could get on eating healthy, exercise and how the body works.  My trainer put a bug in my ear to consider looking into becoming a personal trainer myself. I thank her for this, I would never be where I am today without her. Thank you Fatima Valeras.

Fast forward a few years. I am now a competitive athlete. I am sponsored by the great folks at Coolibar Sun Protective Clothing. I am an ambassador for Raw Elements Sunscreen. I have a feature by Runner’s World under my belt. I am a Certified Personal Trainer and Triathlon Coach and now work with my Coach Jeff Kline and the best team at PRSFit Nation.  Most importantly I am on a mission to spread awareness and compassion for those affected by all cancers, but especially the one that won’t leave me alone, skin cancer.

I am haunted by what many have termed “Survivor Guilt”. Why have I survived and others haven’t? Why have I not had chemotherapy and others have? Cancer has no rhyme or reason and no two cases are the same. I raise money and donate to cancer research when I can.  I became a Stephen Minister so I can provide support to others so they do not have to go through what I did. Cancer is cancer no matter what type or how severe.

I am living breathing proof early detection is the key to survival. So please…be healthy, and get regular checkups, if not for yourself, for those who love you. Your life matters.  You matter.

Previous Posts:

Part 1. The Diagnosis

Part 2. Fighting the Demons

Still to come:

Part 4. My message to you

 

Cancerversary Part 2. Fighting the Demons

Cancerversary-n. – 1._______________ 2. The anniversary of my first Cancer diagnosis

Part 2. Fighting the Demons

When I was diagnosed with cancer the first time, the reactions I received were puzzling to me. I needed someone to listen to me, and comfort me. I desperately needed to know my life mattered. I was placated. I was talked down to. No one I approached at first was there for me in the way I needed them to be. In defense of many, there is no rule book or training program on how to react to or support someone who has just found out they have cancer. I sought out other survivors to talk to. I discovered a lot of bitter survivors out there. Many who did not get the support they needed, the very same support I was seeking.  I had one tell me “don’t talk to me until your hair falls out, that’s when it’s real cancer”.

I was shocked at how often I was dismissed. I was almost penalized because my cancers were not “real” because I never had to have radiation or chemotherapy.  I am very lucky and fortunate to have a team of doctors who encouraged me to get regular examinations. This is why all were detected in the early stages.  At one of my appointments I heard someone told, who just found out they had Thyroid cancer, by another patient in the waiting room, ”Oh you’re lucky, that’s an easy cancer”. I was just floored. This is one example of many, many, times I witnessed and experienced what I now call a cancer hierarchy. Some cancers are “respected” and some not.  I still find this bizarre and heartbreaking.

Depression set in. My insecurity levels were through the roof. I was experiencing survivor guilt. Why was my cancer not as advanced as others? Why was I allowed to live when others lost their lives?  I shut down.  I internalized all my feelings and emotions. With each new diagnosis I would barely even mention it to anyone. I would tell people when they asked where I was “oh just another doctor’s appointment”. Shutting people out was a defensive mechanism. I was not getting the support I needed. Part of this was my own fault due to my withdrawing. I did have good friends who were there for me. I was just so withdrawn at this point to know they were there.

I became increasingly bitter and angry with my life. I made a lot of bad decisions. I trusted the wrong people, dated the wrong men. I was desperately trying to recreate my life and I was going about it all the wrong way. Not to mention, I was still using tanning beds. I was on a crash course to destruction.  I was haunted by these demons of needing support and self-worth but shutting everyone out. The only thing that I started doing remotely good was working out and running. It was more for the therapeutic properties, but I was doing it regularly. During what was now a habitual morning run I realized I wanted to run away, again. So I did, I moved. I moved to another state, I started over. I wiped my slate clean. I took back my life.  It wasn’t that easy at first, a couple painful wrong decisions were made in the process…but moving away ended up being one of my best decisions yet.  This is my first public admission that I was, in fact, running away.

I made new friends, found my independence. I reconnected with old friends, good people in my life.  I put my demons in a closet and shut the door, locked it, and threw away the key. I was me again, happy, full of life and laughter.    I began dating the man I would now call my husband.  We relocated to Las Vegas and married in our home state in a beautiful ceremony surrounded by friends and family.

A few years passed and my life was settling into normal. It had been a while since I’d last heard “you have cancer”.  I began having symptoms like when I had cervical cancer, but different, very different. I was scared, here we go again? So I called my doctor. At my last appointment he had said with my new healthy habits it was as if I was reversing the damage that cancer had done.  I made an appointment just to be safe. I had a battery of tests done and only one came back positive….

Previous Post:

Part 1. The Diagnosis

Still to come:

Part 3.  Time to get healthy

Part 4.  My message to you

 

Cancerversary Part 1. The Diagnosis

Cancerversary-n. – 1._______________ 2. The anniversary of my first Cancer diagnosis

Those of you who follow my blog have come to realize that with the exception of a race recap I start all posts with a word. I then define the word, and then give my own personal definition of the word. Today, the word does not have an “official” definition.

This is my cancer story. I have never shared the full story. Only bits and pieces because I have too many painful memories that I have chosen not to face. My apologies for the length, but I am ready to share my life with cancer with you.  There are still some parts of the story that I may never share. It is too painful and personal.

Part 1. The diagnosis.

15 years ago today, September 18, 1997 I was diagnosed with cancer for what would be the first time of many to come. So many times that the dates blur, but this date I remember vividly. I even remember that it was a Thursday.

 

The day I was diagnosed with melanoma, I was in my 20’s. My worst health fear in my 20’s was trying to avoid getting the flu. Never in my wildest nightmares did I ever think I would hear “you have cancer”.

I grew up in the 70’s and 80’s where being tan was beautiful. My sisters were lifeguards. They were popular for their tans. I am the fair skinned one of the three of us. I could never tan. I would use baby oil, a foil beach towel. I tried everything I could to get a tan. Then in the late 80’s & 90’s tanning beds came around and I was a frequent user. Couple this with family history and I was a shoe in. I had no clue. Not until that day.

I have had 10 total melanomas removed since that day. The worst and most advanced ones were in the beginning. To my surprise I had melanoma in places (pardon the phrase) where the sun didn’t shine. That was an eye opener. My most recent was on my stomach in August 2 years ago.

Melanoma is deadly, but survivable if caught early. I have been fortunate to have caught all of mine early enough where my treatment ended with the surgical removal or excision of the melanoma. I’ll touch more on this later in Part 2.

When you are told you have cancer, no matter your age, no matter who you are, you are scared. You are faced with thoughts you are not prepared to deal with. With each person it is different based upon life situation, but everyone is scared. I drove close to 30 miles to tell my husband.  I needed a hug, comfort, someone to confirm my life mattered. I was met with “it’s not even real cancer, don’t be so dramatic”.  My world came crashing in on me. I was faced with way too much reality that day. Way too much.

I went home and wanted to run away, from everything. I wanted to talk to someone, but after what had happened I internalized everything. I put on some old cross training shoes and took off out the door and ran. I don’t know how far I went but I remember stopping in the middle of the street and falling into a ball, crying.

I had surgery to remove an area the size of a small nerf football from my back. My doctors were concerned that due to the size and not knowing how long it was there, it may have spread. They prepared me for the worst. Imagine being in your 20’s and having a doctor tell you that there is a possibility you may need to consider “getting things in order”.  The fact is, you can’t imagine.

Fast forward a couple years, I was divorced, my life had fallen apart and I was slowly picking up the pieces.  I was still going to the doctor every 3 months to monitor all my moles, freckles and previous surgical sites. To say I had been carved up like a turkey is an understatement. I was collecting scars like some people collect airport magnets.

I can’t remember if I found the lump in my breast first, or if it was the mammogram? Like I said, after so many melanomas things began to blur. I just remember the doctor saying we need to do a needle biopsy while you are here.  Then the conversation took place of the possibility melanoma may have metastasized but pray for this to be isolated. My mother had a tough battle with breast cancer when I was in my early teens. Those images flooded through my head. Her history was why I was able to get mammograms at such an early age.

The tests were puzzling to the doctors. To some, it was precancerous, to others, early stage 1 breast cancer. The final decision was it was very early stage 1. Bottom line, the lump had to go.  After further testing, I received good news. It was a completely separate cancer and not melanoma that had spread.

Then during my annual Pap smear my doctor gave me “the look”. I had learned to recognize this look from all of my doctors. I was lying on the exam table and just laughed. I remember saying “you have GOT to be kidding me?”  She shook her head and pulled out a gadget and the next thing I knew another piece of me was sent off for a biopsy.

I now had a cancer hat trick. Melanoma, Breast, and now Cervical cancer was joining the party.

I went through a very painful (to me) treatment process. I went for weekly cryo (freezing) treatments. Also more tests to make sure this too was not melanoma or breast cancer that had metastasized.  My doctors were amazed. Seemed I had the cancer gene, but also, the cancer fighting gene.  Then they had the talk with me that the chances of me having a child were not good due to the damage to my cervix.  That was the second run where I crumbled in the street crying.

Part 2.  Fighting the Demons

Part 3.  Time to get healthy

Part 4.  My message to you

Melanoma

Melanoma-n. 1.  –mas also –mata: a usu. malignant tumor containing dark pigment. 2. Deadly Skin Cancer. The one that won’t leave me alone.

When you get up in the morning, you get dressed, right? Shirt, pants, shoes?  You wouldn’t leave the house naked, would you? But sadly many do. Many leave the house without sunscreen. Sunscreen should be an essential part of your wardrobe.

I am a multiple melanoma (skin cancer) survivor. You never think you will ever hear the words “You have cancer” once in your life, let alone time, after time, after time, like I have. My first and most advanced was discovered during a routine annual exam. It was in the center of my back. I had no way to knowing it was there. Undetected, it would have killed me, I was only 27. I had an area the size of a small nerf football removed from my back because of a mole the size of a pencil eraser. Melanoma  is the most deadly form of skin cancer. 

Here are some statistics:

  • In 2012 more than 116,000 people will be diagnosed with the disease
  • By 2012, it is estimated that one in 50 people will be diagnosed with melanoma
  • One person dies nearly EVERY HOUR from melanoma
  • Melanoma affects people of every age and every race
  • The incidence rate for children 18 and under INCREASED by 84% from 1975 to 2005

Many cases of skin cancer can be prevented and detected early.  Here are the ABCDEs of melanoma:

Asymmetry:  One half of the mole does not match the other half

Border:  The borders of the mole are irregular, ragged, blurred, or a notch

Color:  The color of the mole is not the same throughout. There may be brown, black, red, blue, or white.

Diameter:  The mole is larger than 6 millimeters (roughly ¼”, roughly the size of a pencil eraser)

Evolution:  The mole has been growing or changed its shape and color.

Protect yourself anytime when outdoors, rain or shine. Don’t just avoid peak sun exposure hours between 10am and 4pm. Water, Sand and Snow reflect the sun’s rays. Wear sunscreen with an SPF factor of 30 or higher, remember to reapply. My favorite is Raw Elements USA. The Eco Stick can be easily applied under water and over sweat. Smaller than an energy gel, it’s easy to carry.  Look for sun protective clothing like Coolibar. Wear sunglasses to protect your eyes from ocular melanoma. AVOID TANNING BEDS.  Apply sunscreen before placing your hands under the UV rays at the nail salon (bet you NEVER thought about that). Visit a trained dermatologist annually for a complete, head-to-toe exam.

I used to be bitter and angry with Melanoma. I was angry that it was determined to kill me. Then I realized. It saved me. I took back my health. Over time I started eating right, running, and having routine exams and screenings. I credit Melanoma for saving my life. Without it, I would not have detected my breast and cervical cancers in the early stages. I am living breathing proof that early detection is the key to survival.

As athletes we train and compete outdoors. We take precautions to train smart and eat right to prevent illness and injury. Please, don’t forget your skin.

Information, statistics, and ABCDE’s obtained via  http://www.OutruntheSun.org

2012 Blue Cross Broad Street Run

I wrote this from 30,000 feet, give or take. 

I woke up the morning of May 6th almost as I always do, with no alarm. I stole away to the bathroom to change, put my game face on, so to speak.  Fuel consumed (Generation UCAN and a banana if you are curious) I got in the car with my husband and brother-in-law. Off we went.

I had so many wonderful well wishes and good lucks in my email, text messages, DM’s on Twitter, and Facebook messages…too many to list everyone individually. Every message was truly very special to me.

Driving in the streets that Rocky ran, I had a song in my ears, the lyrics speaking to me “if you had one shot, or one opportunity to seize everything you ever wanted in one moment…”  I kept watching the clock; time was not on my side. The car stopped and I poured out of the car, humidity hitting my lungs like I was breathing under water (keep in mind, I am from the desert). I coughed, gasped…and headed for the plastic throne area. On my way in I saw Malinda aka @MalindaAnnHill from Twitter. Shocked, in a sea of 30,000 people I was so excited to be able to meet a “Tweep”.

I head to porta potty city, the line moving slowly, my nerves are getting worse. They call seeded to line up, then start calling corrals. My turn in the giant plastic throne, I jump in, out- my corral is called. I’m stuck in a wall of people trying to get there. I need to meet the one who will carry me to victory (never found her). I’m 5’ nothing, like a nightmare and too polite to elbow these nice people I can’t get to my corral. I’m stuck in a crowd that is moving me, backwards.

I wedge myself through a fence and find myself stuck several corrals back and can’t move. Stuck. Can’t move in the corral. I can’t leave, can’t move forward, or backward. I am wedged. My mind is racing, thoughts of Mom, my son, family, friends; I need to deliver this gift of performance as a thank you. Prove to those who don’t believe in me, doubt me, that I can and will do this.

The woman next to me confides in me she is terrified. This is her first race. I hug her and tell her to enjoy this race. It’s her first, relish it, and take it all in. You only get one first. There are people sitting at home wanting to be where we are but could not get in to this massive race that sold out in only 4 hours. We are lucky, blessed. She hugged me “you are my angel today, thank you”. The girl to my left sees my headband (“Cancer Survivor”), hugs me and kisses my cheek “That’s for my Mom, she’s a survivor too”. I am so overcome with emotion that I almost didn’t hear the air horn go off as the first corral was sent off.  

The air horn goes off for the corral I am in. We are packed in like sardines, I’m jogging in place. But everyone is giving high fives, yelling, laughing, and smiling. This is what running is about.  A lot of “excuse me, pardon me” as we all bump into and off each other trying to spread out and start running.

Somewhere around mile 2 someone steps on the back of my shoe and I come out of it. I’m down. A woman falls on my back. We quickly move off to the side. She is the one who stepped on me, she is so apologetic, calls me Cinderella. She stays with me until my shoe is on. She won’t go. Shoe back on, we take off.

The humidity is getting to me. I’m under water.

Spectators along the course were fantastic. Bongo players, drum lines,Temple students out in force.  The aid station volunteers were fantastic cheerleaders.

Somewhere around mile 5 I heard “I see you Coach! I’m wearing sunscreen!” I smiled, no, I beamed. I still do not know who that was. Whoever you were, I heard you and you carried me around City Hall.

Then it happened, coming around City Hall the congestion cleared and I was free to run. I flew. My feet were silent as they touched the pavement.

I knew early in the race by mile 3 that my first goal would not be achieved. My heart ached at this. By mile 7 I was fighting to meet or beat my time from last year. I was fighting. I was running harder than I have run, ever. By mile 8 my PR was gone. My heart sank. The old me would have slowed down and coasted the last 2 miles, “giving up”. I had lost, twice, already and the race wasn’t over.

I didn’t. I ran harder. Faster. I would NOT give up. I am a fighter. Then, mile 9 I saw my husband towering over everyone. He snapped this picture as I passed.

I would not let up, I was still going to give it everything I had, even though I had lost, I would not go down without a fight. I heard someone screaming my name around mile 9.5 (turns out it was my brother-in-law) I was in full focus I was not going to let up.

I passed the ships in the Naval Yard. My Dad was in the Navy. He ran track in college. His nickname was “The Galloping Butterfly”. My nails were painted in zebra stripes and a butterfly necklace around my neck, in memory of my Dad.

Coming around to the finish I was sad. I did not deliver either goal. I failed. I was heartbroken. Beside me a woman collapsed, she had nothing left. I picked her up and delivered her to her fiancé in the family reunion zone. I go to where I am to meet my family. They find me quickly. Not sure what to say. I call Coach. He puts me in perspective. I ran the race of my life, once I was able to run.

We all pile into the car and my Brother-in-Law takes me to a place I recognize. The Philadelphia Museum of Art where Rocky ran up those famous stairs. I did just that, smiling, beaming, I ran up those stairs. At the top I took a moment to take it in, a bucket list dream of mine. I just did it!

In the car on the way home I am reflecting. The spectators, volunteers, runners, all made an impact on me. The running community is very special.

I walk in the door, limping, tears on my cheeks from not meeting either goal. I lost, twice. Feeling I have let so many down. I see my nieces who I adore; they each hug their stinky Aunt.  I go around the corner to find my son, playing with my sister-in-law. He looks up, sees the medal around my neck and screams “MOMMY YOU WON!!!”  You know what? He’s right. I did win.