JFR

Many moons ago, when life was normal? more predictable? Not cancerous? What's the right term? I signed up for my first marathon ever, the Austin Marathon. But to train for 18 weeks for a race so far away didn't seem fun at all especially since I hadn't discovered my training group and I'm really not the introverted run by yourself type. But then I heard that there was a race series called the Austin Distance Challenge where there were 7 races along the way. And it helped to have some races here and there though in simple truth, never having done anything longer than a 10k I had no idea how to do them so I just tried to do them all at the same pace, about a 7-7:15 pace.

The very first half marathon I ever did was the 3rd race in the series that year, the Decker Challenge. Appropriately enough it's a race that is run out in the back of Austin, up and down some serious hills. Some say it's Austin's toughest half marathon... because it is and certainly the hardest one I've ever done. It was the first half marathon I ever did and it hurt enough to where I questioned how does one double that distance? The next year, 2010, it would be the first half marathon I would do after getting out of the biopsy. It's one of these smaller races where your bib isn't assigned till you get to packet pick up. When I got there, my bib was 911 and I joked around with my friends, are you guys kidding me? I don't even have to put an emergency number on the back of the bib, you guys put it on the front! But it would be my fastest half marathon at the time and the first time I won my age group or division in a race ever as an adult (if you want to see the recount of how I saw it then versus now http://pickingupahitchhiker.blogspot.com/2011/01/better-half.html). That course is tough enough to where it's the only race I've never missed since I started running.

In the two following years (2011 and 2012), I asked for bib 911 and got it (it might help that I volunteered at packet pick up), remembering how much that meant to me. But this year, on half marathon #8 and wondering just how well the legs would keep holding up, I just kind of let it go. I'm the kid who always asks for bib #8 since I was born 8/8/80 but I'd never gotten that in a half and hadn't asked for the 911 this year. The last two races were just random bibs and the first two times I'd gotten PR's with a stroller and the truth is the legs were tired after several races in a short time. I just wanted to go see what the system still had.

But a couple of days before the race, someone sent me a video put on by the same store that sponsors this race and the Brain Power 5k, Rogue Running, called JFR, just fucking run (https://www.youtube.com/embed/0lj0elMzwlQ). Now, if you believe that a store that charges the kind of prices that a specialty store does for equipment and training or a guy like me who does regular workouts with a GPS watching timing every second, is only about running, I have a bridge I'd like to sell you (for the bargain price of the costs of my medical bills plus a burger). And so... that became the goal... this one is just for fun, hard hills but let's just go fucking run. There's no marathon on the calendar and the honest truth is that after the year I imagine will always be the race I do the most athletic events in one year... it was the last race of 2013 and while that may not last, there's honestly no race on the calendar for quite a while. When I got to volunteer pick up, they had reserved bib #8 for me!

So I did... I didn't do my traditional meals before (going to 4 holiday parties the day before didn't facilitate that and I have a weakness for desserts) I still focused on the music and the watch but less so than usual... it was the coldest half I've ever ran, EVER. One of my shot blocks fell on the race. There wasn't anyone ever anywhere really near me neither behind nor in front after not being far out the gate and it's a lonely course out in back roads where there really isn't pretty to look at. I don't know the roads since I've seen them only the 5 times I've ran the race but it's one big loop so pretty impossible to get lost. Looking up at the hills was not a pretty sight so I just focused on the lines and the cracks in the roads, sang when the breathing wasn't too hard.

The cold weather helped, the great volunteers that high fived and gave water helped, the music helped. To be in good shape, to do something well requires tuning in but every once in a while in some of the things like running that are just basic, you just tune out and it's just fun. So on the last race of the year, I just had some fun and it would be my fastest half marathon ever 1:20.21, taking 2 minutes off my previous fastest one which it had been two years since. I went back on the course and ran a few friends in and wondered if the look on my face at the end of those hills was as pained as some of theirs looked.

In the obsession with the number 8, on my 8th half marathon, I took 8th overall and still somehow didn't place in my age group. I got beat by 7 people and 4 of them were in my age group (but I promise I'm not competitive). But you know I went to eat with some people, some who had gotten their best time, some who it was their first one, some who were disappointed. But I don't know that there was one who wasn't happy that they hadn't ran. I'm actually more sore than I have ever been after any half marathon. The races are done for 2013 and somehow I've managed to get a trophy and or a best time in every distance I've done this year (miler, 2 miler, 5k, 5 miler, 10k, half marathon, 30k, marathon, spartans and 100 mile bike ride). That is of course insane and cannot be sustained. But it turns out that my therapy, that whole just fucking run has worked out pretty well for me in 2013.

Just A Drill

So I’ve won some races, I do regular track workouts but none of those were ever near the closest to the fastest I’ve ever run; that was a few weeks ago on Veteran’s Day. My favorite workout are when Kiana and get to do some of our runs together. While we’re not the same speed yet, we sometimes go to a nearby track and she does a marathon kids workout  while I do a track workout. We go opposite directions until the very last lap where we race it in together.  (That was my favorite part of seeing the NBC piece, http://www.today.com/video/today/53581524#53581524 and for people who ask, no Kiana doesn’t get to watch those things, they talk about things she doesn’t know and while I suppose there will be things she learns from TV, my prognosis is not going to be one of them).

But on Veteran’s day, while it was a student holiday, it was a teacher in service day and so when we were going opposite ways, a voice came over the loudspeaker that said “A man with a gun is on the campus, please lock all doors and follow appropriate protocol.” And that moment to get to Kiana who was almost the further point possible from the track was the fastest I ever ran and then just picked up Kiana and started walking backwards off the campus. Kiana asked why we were leaving the water bottles and why we were walking backwards, let’s just say she didn’t get well thought out answers. Our house is only one block away but the track makes it more like 4 or 5 since it’s on the back end of the school. Since it sits on a cul de sac there was no way to not go around the school if you can't go through the campus. Once we were off campus, it felt like we were walking very slowly as I was keeping an eye on the school with Kiana behind me. Then what apparently was only a few minutes later but felt like an eternity, the loudspeaker once again announced “The drill is complete, staff please come to the library for our discussion of this protocol.” I sit on the citizens advisory council and at the next meeting they would talk to us about that drill and how they had purposely done it on a day where students weren’t there because they were still trying to figure out if and how they would implement this drill. It’s a sad thing that this has to be considered but in the modern age, it shows wisdom on the school’s part that they are doing so. Kiana and I would go back and get our water and I’d talk to her about drills a lot more calmly and we stayed on the playground for a while just so that she realized her school was still a safe place.

The adrenaline/fear/thoughts would stay with me for quite a while that day. When we got home (free free to judge my parental wisdom on doing this all on the same day), after a good lunch, as we kept talking about a drill, I decided to add another drill.  Kiana and I do this once in a while but honestly it had been too long. She has fortunately never seen me have a grand mal seizure but has watched videos of them with me and we have our own practice drill. It really is her finding me shaking or on the floor and looking for my phone. Luckily we also own an ipad and we’ve even practiced using the “Find my phone” app and then her “pretend” calling 911 and letting them know our address etc. I hope she never ever has to through with that but when you’re a single dad raising a young child and have woken up in ambulances… Sitting through both of those drills was not pleasant and it’s probably fairly arguable which one of us is less of a fan of those experiences. Still I remember fire drills in my school days and talking to friends from other times and places, they talk about drills where they had to practice for a tornado or some of my friends from the cold war where they had to duck underneath their desks in case of a bomb (did anyone really think that would work?). In any of those drills, school shooting, our seizure one, a fire one, a tornado or cold war one, people who think ahead are guaranteed nothing but improve their odds of surviving or if nothing else being prepared when it’s time to go out.

That’s what the last 48 hours felt like with the medical stuff going on again. Good intentioned people question why I start thinking about the Grand Canyon etc when the MRI’s, medical things begin again. They tell me I should just assume the best and not think about it. To quote a poor movie, fear is a choice but the danger is real. The fire alarm may just be a drill but if there is an actual fire and you don’t know whether or not there is, again those who treat it as such will have higher chances of “success” however you want to define it.

So while sitting in the MRI itself is not a problem for me, some people apparently have to be sedated (I‘ve managed to fall asleep with my head strapped into something that keeps it from moving), and while even my doctors wonder how I just don’t care about the vomiting (as I’ve said to them if it happens enough you kind of start taking it as “normal”) and in fact the only medical “part” that bothers me is the needles cause I’m a total wuss about body fluids but the last tech was the best I’ve ever gotten and so I barely felt it. The tough part is, no pun intended, mental. You hope for the best and prepare for the worst. And while I sit there and wait for results, I wonder if we’re going to have to do any more treatment, or if there will even be that choice. But if there’s a certain mistake I made was obsessing too much about this when it all started (I can’t say I’ve fully turned it off, I always still bring an MRI CD  home and look through as it if I know how to read it; I also show it to Kiana who just thinks it's kind of cool) so I schedule things before, after during the days to feel normal so that there’s someone to share the worry with, someone to share the appointment with, someone to share possible disappointment and/or celebration with. I think even some of the people who I am a gigantic fan of, the people who in the moments I’m with them feeling overwhelmed, somehow being in their presence is when I remember to breathe, would tell you that some of the things I say and don’t say in person or electronically show a rather stressed out dude. But I am lucky enough to have good people who can see through that.

I sit there and try to think happy thoughts but when I’m wearing a medical outfit waiting the only one I could think of was well at least I’ll win the ugly sweater party. And as I ran home Monday from the MRI, intending for 2 miles and ended up with 4, I stuck my ipod where they’d gone in with a needle. The day, like any day, had some speed bumps that weren't on my radar that had nothing to do with cancer. Luckily, most of the day was time with good people, and decorating a Christmas tree with Kiana, and using the winnings to go to Thundercloud for a “we won the turkey trot” dinner. And Tuesday, there was lumosity to do, and a kitchen to clean and laundry to do while waiting to go to the doctor.

At the doctor’s, everything was stable. The brain cancer tumor’s still there it hasn’t grown; in the world I live in that’s as good as the news gets. We talked about the Spartan races, the turkey trot and even the beer mile. My resting heart he said was very low (47) but that’s normal for athletes (he used some fancy word for it). He showed me the scans of my brain and pointed at different sections (again he used some fancy words). We talked about the seizures and how because they still aren’t fully controlled that driving won’t happen at least not for a while if not till next summer but we’re going to play with a dosage increase of the current medication (I have a half marathon Sunday so of course I asked if we could start that on Monday. I’m not sure if it was with a smile or a roll of his eyes but he said yes). He always comes across as a pretty calm brave guy, thus appropriately named Valiant. Unsurprisingly, the least pleasant part of seeing my doctor was talking about the legal order that is now in place that within 7 days of an MRI I need to let Kiana’s mother know and that she gets a summary of my treatment, medication changes etc at her expense. I sent her an email after an appointment to make sure I fulfilled the legal requirements and let’s just leave it at that her response appearingly focused mostly on getting information without fulfilling her end of the bargain shows less than appropriate humanity.

Cancer has been too big a factor in my life for too long. And if you think hope is the only 4 letter word I use, you can read about the first month I didn’t have an appointment (http://pickingupahitchhiker.blogspot.com/2012/11/thank-god-and-fuck-yeah.html) in November of 2012. But assuming nothing drastic happens soon, the appointments keep getting further apart. The first time it was 2 months, then 3 months and now the next one isn’t scheduled until April so while it’s really 3 months without appointments it’s 4 months between them.  Appropriately enough in the middle of the celebration, I got some cool pictures of the New York Voices Against Brain Cancer race Kiana and I went to, the privilege of the only race we’ve ever done outside of the Lone Star State. 

So I went home, and hung out with a friend, and walked the dog, and took Kiana to the school book fair, and did a track workout, and went to a holiday party for a place I volunteer at, and was amused at the huge range of facebook responses about the fact that everything was stable and that we’d be increasing medications (they ranged from praises to God to that I should start dating to asking about my next race to eating different to lower my blood pressure, all of which were thought about and considered).

Maybe the last two days was just a drill that we’ll have to do occasionally until/unless the shooter of electricity in my head shows up, or till the fire grows. Drills aren’t fun; they’re not meant to be. But I hope that with each of these drills, I’ve gotten at least a little better at handling it.  And I dream that if there comes a time when it’s not a drill anymore and the tests are the emergency that the way I deal with the days before the medical stuff, the days of, and the days after are worthy of something good. Because good things, good people are the values that I hope Kiana and I have drilled into each the best and most often

What's Coming Tomorrow

Well, I have my next MRI tomorrow. I’d love to say that I’m not nervous or scared but that would be far less than honest. Still, while a few other choice four letter words go through my head when the appointments start up, hope is the four letter word I choose to hold onto. I’ve done four races in November, 3 titles, and 2  PR’s. That may tell you a lot about my psychology that the running is often just a way to shout out with my legs that I’d much rather the races test the system than that weird machines do it.

People are shocked to find out with the fact that I don’t work that I rarely sit around. Or even that I still haven’t spent any extra time training because well that’s just not where I want to spend my life. I volunteer in many places when Kiana’s not around because I want to contribute. Perhaps the upside of the driving restriction is getting from place to place on the bicycle both kills time and gives you thinking time. But on the days before medical appointments, I try to create a flurry of stuff if for no other reason than to not have time to think about the uncontrollable.

Kiana headed out with her mom for the weekend after Thanksgiving. Kiana asked me what the weather was before leaving and I simply answered that it was Kiana hugging weather with a big squeeze. She said that was the weather everyday and I was not being helpful in picking up her clothes. Obviously, I am super macho and manly and didn’t even considering tearing up at all at such a sentimental comment from a six year old. It's a lot easier when she's around before medical tests because she makes the focus of why I'm fighting easier and it takes all my energy to try to keep up with her/

I ran 18 miles on Saturday. It’s funny that there are actually zero marathons that I have any commitment to but I’m still training like there’s one waiting out there for me. But then there came a chance to defend a title. I haven’t made it to all of them but call it pride or a measurement but any race I win, I try to go back and defend the title the next year. Most of them do not get repeated but it measures where I stand from year to year. The only two titles I’d managed to defend this year were the Cancer Division champion of the Livestrong Austin Marathon and the Stroller Division of the Turkey Trot. But there was still one left, Austin’s annual beer mile. It’s a simple concept, chug a beer, run a lap, and repeat (for last year’s recount, http://pickingupahitchhiker.blogspot.com/2012/11/pile-of-good-things.html). I’d never even heard of it and the simple reality is that of all the titles that I might not have repeated I could have lived without that one without any problem. And I’m not really supposed to get drunk and it tells you something that the only 3 times I’ve drank anywhere near seriously was at three charity races, the two beer miles and Austin’s red dress run, each one about a year apart (neither my mom nor my doctors approve of me taking too much alcohol but if it's done annually I don't get reprimanded too badly). So while I don’t normally drink beer but when I do I repeat as Austin’s beer mile champion by drinking dos equis. And if you rarely drink and then do it while sprinting, your head gets to where it's swimming fast. Apparently, I hugged a few people and slapped a few people’s asses.  Now you’re wishing you’d signed up for the event eh? I am amused that the only titles I managed to defend were a cancer marathon, a 5 mile stroller race and a beer mile. It perhaps shows the diversity of events I do but it may at some level reflect my priorities as well.

Still, after dinner and sobering up, we went downtown to dance with some people from the running group. I rarely go downtown and while Kiana and I dance all the time, it’s usually at home.  I’m always amused at that old phrase dance like no one’s looking because when you’re dancing unless you’re extremely good at it or extremely bad at it, odds are no one’s looking anyway so just enjoy it. I am more of the old song that some dance to remember and some dance to forget. The guy with memory problems when he dances usually dances to remember but on a weekend where I can’t quite shake the fact that an MRI is just around the corner, well I’m dancing to forget (as an aside, no problem during the runs or races but my IT band cramped up on the dance floor; oh well at least the girl I was dancing with was both cute and smart because any girl who dances with me has to be brilliant right?).

I’ve been in videos for trying to respond to life under not normal circumstances. Different people need different things around medical appointments. I obviously need a driver for some of them but even after the MRI, two miles away from my home, I’ve made it clear I’m running home afterwards. I’ve done that before and I usually throw up from whatever contrast they inject in the middle of the test. And people have helped in many ways during many of the messes of the last few years… but for me some of the biggest help on days like today, the day before appointments and tomorrow and Tuesday, the days of appointments, is remarkably and simply complicated. I remarked about this when talking about Job’s friends (http://pickingupahitchhiker.blogspot.com/2012/05/different-job.html) but there are days when the biggest help are those who realize they don’t need to do something, they just stand there.  A few days after the diagnosis, it was a friend who flew in and just hugged you on your couch, a friend who watched you cry in the waiting room, a friend who brought good food, they patted you on the thigh or on the back. Sometime, it was just someone you could make eye contact with in the middle of the appointment and know that even if things weren't going to be okay, that moment itself was more okay because of that contact. For me, it was not something they said, but it was just that were there in presence, in text, in thought, in prayer. Now, I just came from church and I’ve said it before and I’ve said it again, I’ve never prayed to beat this and never will. I just am glad that Life itself has provided people who are there to share the moments with you that creep you out.  

People ask about the financial problems and I finally have come up with saying that I’m not poor, I’m broke. Because fortunately the insurance I’m on, I’m still in a house with equity so when push comes to shove, I can sell it and have some money. And those are all stressors that if you have a magic wand, please fix them but I'm guessing no one does. So in that case don't just do something, stand there.  I always just kind of am remembered of what my grandpa said, “If it’s about money, don’t worry about it, we don’t have any.” 

But for me, perhaps for most people at most times, life is just a little bit better if when you defend the title of just being yourself, there’s friends and family around to share yourself with.  While she may never understand it’s full significance, I took the liberty of getting Kiana a music box. It’s penguins because in that species it’s mostly the male that does the parenting.   It that plays the tune of an old classic, she’ll get an early Christmas

present on the day of the MRI, tomorrow:

Oh! We ain't got a barrel of money 
Maybe we're ragged and funny 
But we'll travel along 
Singing a song 
Side by side 

I don't know what's a-comin' tomorrow 
Maybe it's trouble and sorrow 
But we'll travel the road 
Sharing our load 
Side by side 

And no matter what else, that's coming tomorrow. 

Let It Go

Frank Clark said that "If a fellow isn't thankful for what he's got, he isn't likely to be thankful for what he's going to get." Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday for many many reasons. Different people have different traditions but for most of us it’s a holiday where the main purpose is a great meal with friends and family; at many of them you state what you’re thankful and are fortunate enough to have some of it right in front of you. I am a guy who likes the basics of life so that’s as good as it gets. It tells you something that that’s the one holiday I’ve never missed with Kiana with some apt negotiation. That may not always continue but I am glad it has for seven years.

It was the first holiday after I got out of the hospital and I’d say at the meal that it was the best year of my life. The original biopsy which was supposed to take 2 days to tell me whether or not I had cancer had taken over two weeks and it came two days before Thanksgiving. (That was the same day that a friend introduced me to Livestrong. The band went on that day and it’s still the exact same one.) But I said thank you because it was the best year of my life because it was the year I had traveled the most having been to India,  Canada, Mexico and a couple of places across the US (unsurprisingly most of them for sporting events). It was also the best because the people who had called, come in to the hospital, all made the prospect of life ending a little easier to imagine because well at that point I was still being guided along by whatever the emergency room had directed me to and hadn’t been directed at that I had some say in the matter.

Thanksgiving would also be the first time I would do a race after getting out of the hospital. Austin has an annual 5 mile race that day, the Thundercloud Turkey Trot. I’d done it before mostly because scientist have proved if you run a race in the morning it cancels out all subsequent calories for the day. But it was also the place where running helped life start to have somewhere I could feel normal again, with those first couple of weeks on steroids and drugs and my head swimming had started to fade but somehow felt completely gone for 4.5 miles (the course was accidentally cut short).

Fast forward one year later to 2011, it was the first race I would run with a stroller in. I’d been running with a stroller for a while but I had no clue and no inkling that races allowed strollers. The Turkey Trot had a stroller division. I tried to turn it on but it’s a race with thousands and thousands of people so I learned the hard way, you can’t burst at the beginning and navigating around people with a stroller is not possible. I would take second. Last year, I would take first in the stroller division outsprinting the guy in first to win by the smallest margin and the only time I’ve ever sprinted head to head with a stroller. That was a blast. Each of those times was faster than the one before but never anywhere near my personal best time at the distance. Each of those times we did the kid’s k before with Kiana being in the 5 and under group and so running ahead of a good chunk of the crowd.

The day before with it being a non school day we tried to make it both a fun and productive day. We were raking leaves which Kiana eventually decide were more fun to throw up in the air. I originally was goign to reprimand her but decided it was better to take pictures. However, before going to bed, Kiana said to me to try to win the turkey trot (I said the wins don't matter, it's getting exercise in that counts ... not sure which one of was more skeptical to hear me say that ). She’d never said that before about any race but upon asking a little more I learned why it was her favorite prize ever. She’s never cared about the trophies we get but she remembered that winning the stroller division comes with gift certificates to Thundercloud Subs, a local sandwhich place. Last year after we won it, we stretched them out as best as we could to a few outings there. I’d like to think she wanted to win it because it meant a good walk with dad to a restaurant or a special meal since we rarely go out to eat (it may well be that finally I get some chips, soda or cookies since those aren’t allowed at the house but are accepted on special outings).

It was cold. The heater had been broken in my house so Kiana had been sleeping in my bed with a space heater until we got it fixed. But it was going to be cold. Luckily, both Kiana and I got to warm up with her doing the kids K with me next to her. Like every race we’ve done so far, Kiana looked like she was both having fun and trying to moderate the distance. I don’t know if it’s genetic or human tendency that it’s easier to work with the end in site, once the finish line was in view, she sprinted it in.

Last year, at the turkey trot, it was the only time I’ve ever taken someone out during a race with a stroller. It was a turn and their leg kicked back into the stroller. I helped her get up and we got back on course (I would win the stroller division, she would win her age group; we hugged it out at the trophy ceremony). However, I felt ridiculously bad doing that so this year I immediately went to the farthest outside opposite of where the first turn is (usually the side serious runners avoid) for the first mile or so. The honest truth is I just wanted to win the stroller division and win Kiana some of the outings for food and so I just kept an eye out on the strollers and by the end of mile 1 was ahead of all of them clocking it in at 6:08. So I just said okay, I’ll take it easy from here to the finish line unless any strollers get close, clocking in the second mile at 6:18.

However, the day before the race, we’d gone to see Frozen. And Kiana for some reason loved this song, “Let it go.” I’m certainly no movie critic but the part that was interesting was that someone had gotten “poisoned” with magical ice. And the wise strolls said that it wasn’t that big of a deal the first time when it hit her head, stating that’s not of much use anyway. The second time, years later, it struck her heart and that was lethal. Whatever has poised or frozen any parts of my head, I am reminded each race, each meal, each day that it’s still more than a marathon away from my heart. Ignore any plot lines associated with the song but since Kiana kept singing it, I literally downloaded the song right before the race. It was by far both the closest to a race I’ve ever changed the playlist and the least I’ve ever known a song that was supposed to amp me and Kiana up (go talk to my neuropsychologist about how I have increased impulsivity). Still, it came on about mid course with perfect lyrics:

It's funny how some distance makes everything seem small
And the fears that once controlled me can't get to me at all
Up here in the cold thin air I finally can breathe
I know I left a life behind but I'm too relieved to grieve

Let it go, let it go
Can't hold it back anymore

It might have helped the course got flatter right around then and that the weather was perfect. Between hearing that on its own and hearing Kiana belting it out, I turned it on and let it go. Mile three was a 5:50, mile 4 5:41 and mile 5, 5:40. I would finish the race in 29:33, my fastest 5 miler ever, passing New York by about 3 seconds per mile, repeating the stroller division wins. It was cool to do so on the home terf that had been my first post hospital race, my first stroller race and Kiana’s first race.

I don’t recommend a good chunk of my life but I’ll tell you I am thankful for what I have and whatever will come, there will be something within in it I’ll try to be thankful for. Some people came after the race to shake mine and Kiana’s hand and said they’d seen the piece on NBC (including one of my doctor’s from Duke’s interns). I’ve got medical appointments Monday and Tuesday and the potential of what could happen in those has been messing with me. Friends try to ask how I’m feeling and there are things that you don’t feel. I had done a hill workout and was socializing at a party the day before the first time I woke up in an ambulance. I was literally at the front of a run the second time I woke up in once. And usually, I’m feeling pretty well not too well before the vomiting or focal seizures take place so this is one place where I think how I feel matters very little. Trying to do with as much conviction as she'd thrown leaves up in the air with,  I gotta say for those last three miles, I was just a guy with his kid, singing, running and letting it go.  And that was something to be thankful for. 

Make It A Good One, Eh?

I’ve been working on my holiday cards the last few days. Both last year and this year, I did it around this time which people commend me for getting it done so early. I’m a guy who always like to think ahead (a necessary act when you don’t trust your memory) but the simple truth is that filling out a few dozen of those envelopes and hand writing them serves many purposes. (By the way while people may commend me, I got two before I was done with mine and unlike mine they were long handwritten notes. Mine was a collection of pictures with the highlights of the year shared through Kiana, the highlight of my life. By the way if you’re reading this and don’t have one by the end of next week, please send me your address because well I forget things). The biggest purpose to quote JFK is to stop and thank the people who make a difference in our life. Another purpose in simple truth is that when the medical tests get close, though even though I’m not working my insane stay busy-ness ramps up because, I get nervous/scared/insert appropriate word. I hope everything is stable, I wonder if anything will show that makes it time to get prepared for the trip to the Grand Canyon. So I just ramp up the days, hours and minutes to have very little thinking/worrying time. And well holiday cards is an incredibly good distraction because it puts in my mind the people I'm thankful for. I can't think of a better way overcome stress or worry.

I’ve done holiday cards since Kiana was born except for the year when all this started in November 2010 (I had some distractions) and as is typical and probably appropriate, the caption on there has always been a positive thought that struck me that year such as two years ago, the best part of life is when your friends become family and your family becomes friends. This year’s caption was from an episode of Doctor Who, a show that’s had more than one nod in this blog, and as he’s dying and talking to a little girl says to her while  she’s sleeping, “I’ll just be a story in your head. But we’re all stories, in the end. Just make it a good one eh?” Now it’s a TV show that had it’s 50^th anniversary yesterday so he’s clearly not dead but we as humans still die. Still, that line struck a chord.

My story has been told way too much this year (With friends I change a bit the tunes of Simon and Garfunkel and joke, I am just a poor boy but my story’s often told). I’m humbled but still completely unclear as to why because as I said to NBC the things that people are talking about are the basics of life, one foot in front of the other with people you love (Today show: http://www.today.com/video/today/53581524 and  NBC nightly news: http://videodelivery.nbcnews.com/now/bypass/mp4/3aaae01e-e0f4-439d-aa7a-8d5e3e774105/00000000-0000-0000-0000-000000000000/3a41c6e4-93a3-4108-8995-64ffca7b9106/713b74f9-2da7-4d0f-a53b-adc388e18301/0/0/191/1695775667/nn_09_lh_marathon_131116.mp4?sid=125).  

There is one element I’d not recommend being in the media or keeping a public blog after all this. Many many good people have reached out in just simple kindness but occasionally some other people who, in simple frankness, might benefit from having their own brain checked out even if their intentions are good. There were several pot offers, a proposal from someone twice my age, there’s the guy who said if I didn’t try this product I’d given up on life; with all due respect, who contacts a guy they heard of on the today show for winning a marathon behind a stroller to tell me I’ve given up on life? People point me to texts showing that God intends  other things for me etc etc. Kiana and I will head to church in a couple of hours but my approach to morality, the will of God is what an old college professor used to say: “You can try to figure out what the will of God is for you or you can try to figure out what the will of God is period and live your life accordingly.” And that’s my approach that the will of God/what’s moral are the exact same thing and I don’t believe I have an individual destiny but am just trying to do the basic right things which in my current circumstances is just one foot in front of the other with people I love. And I may be over simplifying it but on most days, in most circumstances, I do think that for the vast majority of humanity, the right thing is rarely that complicated. Still well intentioned people have suggested products/religion/diets/medical approaches to get me to cure and beat this. Most of those idea
have been considered and a few have been attempted. Some are just so different from my perspective that I blow them off but the simple truth is I trust my doctors, my friends and my family and if the tests go well next week or poorly, I am grateful for the journey. I am grateful that friends have laughed and cried with me (for good laughter see the current attached note someone gave me for my 3 ^rd cancer anniversary). And while I assure you I do some of both, I still insist it's healthier to laugh at some of the things that make you cry. I mean this week alone a very polite and very enthusiastic telemarketer called and said

Telemarketer: I'm calling from <> to tell you about our car insurance rates dropping.

Me: I don't drive. 
Telemarketer: Well let me talk to you about our life insurance, do you have any serious pre existing conditions:
Me: I have brain cancer.
Telemarketer: Well, if any of that changes, keep us in your mind... I mean give us a call then. 

Some things couldn't be scripted if you tried. I felt sorry for the kid who got the bad luck of getting my number and I'm sure he's feeling sorry for me or wondering if I was just messing with. But I really do hope that as we remember that story today or whenever that we both look back at it and laugh or at least smile. 

For four years in a row now, at years end, I could have said this was the strangest most unexpected year of my life (2010 cancer, 2011 brain surgery and divorce, 2012 waking up in an ambulance and getting fired and custody fight, 2013 winning a marathon, a few media things, race invitations and a few legal battles). I assure you on January 1^st 2014, I will be hoping that even if it’s a strange year that it will at least be less strange than the previous one. But with or without strangeness, it's good to have shared some of the company. 

But still whether this is all I get or whether there is some eternal life, that’s all I’m trying to do is just make it a good story which is just life itself. Because there is no one always there and so however long life lasts, when we’re running together or throwing a Frisbee or going to church or cooking a meal, I try to focus with Kiana or whoever is with me or if it’s just me to take some joy in the journey, to make the pancakes into flowers, to make the run a karaoke show, to make a walk into a heart warming, hand holding experience. And that is the best story I could ever dream up.

Join the Voices

It was an incredible privilege to get invited to attend New York to do the 5 mile race of Join the Voices Against Brain Cancer (jointhevoicesnyc.org). Not quite sure what to do with the fact that it seems the flatter city I am, the hiller the race gets. Didn’t quite know how to approach it and having looked at the pictures from last weekend's half marathon, I was starting to wonder if it was time to retire since Kiana looked so big in the stroller (Kiana addressed that quickly and said, no I still fit but we can get a bigger stroller sometime). Still, getting a chance to walk and run through Central Park and museums the day before made me realize that if you have a good breakfast, you can take in more than six impossible things.

We arrived before hand at the festival for the Voices Against Brain Cancer and while Kiana was playing 

around, I interacted with neurosurgeons, oncologists, brain cancer patients, their care takers, their friends and families. Both privately and onstage, voices were less than normal as people shared their stories. Those with the most enthusiasm were the stories about having been given a few weeks or months and to still be standing a few years later. Other’s voices seemed more liked whispers as they shared the story of someone as they shared how they had to relearn or compensate for lost biological and mental function. There were voices that cracked for who had gotten much shorter than their prognosis, others who the treatment or side effects would end up proving a shorter life than if they’d left it alone. There were other ones like Mario Lichenstein, the founder who had been robbed of their child who could unfortunately relate to those who had lost their friends, their family. The voices from these ranged to a broken heart to incredible anger. But everyone I met was there for the same reason, the ones they loved, those they were for, gave them a very strong reason to indicate why they were against brain cancer. Some people had seen the NBC piece that had aired the night before and commended me on it but I can say nothing other than I was embarrassed that it took brain cancer for me to get right some of the basic things in life while they clearly had for far more years than I’ve done it (http://www.today.com/video/today/53581524 and http://www.nbcnews.com/video/nightly-news/53576124/#53576124).

After what seemed too short of time with some of these guys, I had to head down to the race. They had originally said that to be courteous to the other runners they were going to give me a 5-15 minute head start and for me it’s tough to keep pace when I’m alone so I was going to use it somewhere between a race and a tough training run, slower than I usually race at that distance but faster than I usually train so I was going to try to keep a 6:15-6:20 pace. Then, literally moments before the race, right after I had the privilege of addressing the crowd, they said I was going to get only 30 seconds. The race started and there was a hill… and another hill… I guess there were some down hills but I don’t remember them to but on that I actually grip harder on the stroller just for fear of it going without me. This was the first race I’d ever had to pick up a water cup instead of having it handed to me. Let’s just say that on the first one, I picked up one and knocked down quite a few. On the next one I picked up the very last one with two fingers while holding the stroller in one hand. A cyclist who was riding beside me said he was impressed and I’m like yeah, “I can’t believe I got that water.” He said, “I meant with the way you’re running up hill with a stroller.” I kept getting passed until mile 3 and then someone passed me and I decided to see if I could keep up with him for the last two miles. Because he was 30 seconds officially ahead of me, by keeping up with him, I had to speed up my pace. We finished pretty close together in the end but with about a third of a mile to go I looked down at my watch and realized if I could hold it for just about two minutes I would achieve what I’d been trying to for over 2 years, getting a faster time with Kiana in a stroller than without one, getting a 29:51 on a 5 mile race, a sub six minute pace. I have no idea what my facial expressions are when I’m running that hard but everyone said I came in smiling and well, that’s why.

People may think it’s cause I’ve been training harder and that’s true but that’s not the biggest part of the equation to me. It’s no coincidence that the races are I’ve trained the hardest for are the ones that let me in with a stroller or the ones with a cause. But on the times Kiana’s with her mom for the weekend, some very meaningful races have happened the Brain Power 5k, the Austin Livestrong Marathon, the Livestrong Century, the Angels Among Us 5k at Duke’s Robert Tisch Brain Tumor Center (a huge highlight of the New YOrk trip was to reconnect with the guy who beat me at that race and our families getting to meet but it surely puts in perspective that right now he’s not able to run due to treatment). In every one of those races it was my best time at that distance the first time I participated in the event. Unfortunately, none of these two things have ever combined before. Between that and this event being by far the biggest cancer or brain cancer event I’ve ever attended (this may be for no other reason than of the population of New York), I ran with serious conviction.

Afterwards, they were kind enough to hand me a medal for courage. Like every medal, in any race Kiana’s been a part of, it came off my neck and went on hers. It was an amazing privilege to receive and it belonged to the princess that gives me courage and the one who I am trying to make sure this cancer affects as little as possible. For a guy who got a courage award, let me state, nothing scares me more than anything going wrong in her life, especially because of this cancer  or its side effect.

I was asked to address the crowd after receiving my award for a couple of minutes. If you read this blog,

I’m fairly long winded so keeping it short is not my strongest suit. But between being overwhelmed by it all, I said some of what I’d prepared and some thoughts that came to mind. See, the reason I train hard for these events and raise money for them is because most people to get up and do something just need inspiration. I admire the guys at these races because they keep going despite sometimes lacking information on how to do so. I know and have met cancer patients who give up on life before it’s over so I’m greatful for events like this where we can connect and see that we’re in this together.

I am not saying cancer is the worst way to die. In my book there are very few, if any good deaths, whether that be a a random disease, accident or old age. But what I admire at every athletic event, and what I reflect on when I sit here sore from these events that I do, is that people who are active who push their bodies, their minds, their souls, whenever we die, we’ve given what we can to die young as late as possible. That, that is the way to live.  All death feels senseless but the tough struggle for me cancer patients in general and us brain cancer patients in specific, we have to accept that the very essence of who we are, our brains, has betrayed us and we are fighting a disease inside our own heads, the part of us that I think makes us human. So when I got to address the community, all I could say say was thank you because their efforts provides me and far far better people than me more information to have a chance to continue to pursue inspiration. And I thanked them because that day, they provided me inspiration and in a perfect aligning of events, I got a personal best time faster behind Kiana on a hilly course than I ever had on a flat course without her.

There was a variety of problems that Kiana and I saw that day from brain cancer some emotional, physical, financial. I have some of all of those. But I am still standing and I still have a voice and it was my privilege at that race to join theirs. Longfellow wrote “The human voice is the organ of the soul.” Being against brain cancer, not every chord is a good one, but yesterday, I loved that the voices joined for a very good harmony.

The Fate of Bridges

3 years to the day after I was waiting for a biopsy, and three weeks away from an MRI, I was getting to return to the community that was kind enough to let me run a marathon behind a stroller. I get nervous about races but running is my therapy so it was good to head to the Pleasure Island Bridge Half marathon. Once again they were nice enough to let me do the race with the stroller, the toughest race I've done yet with her. I prefer 13.1 miles of hard core therapy because I'd rather the course test the system and my body than when machines and doctors do it. It started over a bridge from miles 2-4 that was by far the steepest thing I've ever done with a stroller (NBC was covering and it will air on Nightly news on the 16th and while we're on media pieces The 2013 runner's world piece came out and before I'd seen it in person, someone from Beaumont was actually the first to send me a picture. They captured the copy well (though my tumor is in my left temporal not frontal lobe) but stating that all I'm trying to do is hang out with my daughter. While we're on media things, there was also a video from local news that covered the race, http://www.kfdm.com/shared/news/top-stories/stories/kfdm_vid_7489.shtml) but boy was I glad someone was filming it... it will show why bridge took so much out of me... it felt like I was in 5k heart beating mode and it took me till almost the halfway mark before I was anywhere near breathing normal, half marathon normal breathing mode anyway.

I got passed and owned going up that bridge by so many people, though since it was a 10k and a half marathon starting simultaneously... I had no clue who was in my race. But it was a gorgeous view of the bay though I was breathing so hard I only caught a few glimpses. Once we got past the bridge about halfway in, someone yelled that I was 7th or 8th, turned out I was in sixth but I kept trying to recover and literally push along. At the 10 mile mark I was in 4th with the leader very well ahead and 2nd and 3rd in view. This race had two turn around points and it was great to see so many runners from this community. High fived more than a few in the middle of the race.

This course was the toughest thing I'd ever done with a stroller. There are things you take for granted as a runner, that I probably wouldn't have noticed without Kiana. The bridge would have hurt either way but pushing 75 lbs up it... but there was some gravel on the course, there were some sharp turns, there were round turns through a gorgeous residential area, there were speed bumps (Kiana said whee during those) and right at the end there was a wooden pier which I would have loved to walk on but it was a bumpy ride. It was there that the guy in second gained a bit of time on me (we ran pretty close together from mile 11 onward) and I tried to sprint the end to catch up but I would finish two seconds behind and take 3rd in a time of 1:23.42.

I have no goal of winning any race because you never know who the competition is (to give you an idea the guy who came in first finished about a mile ahead of us) but I keep holding onto this goal in every race that I've done with a stroller that I still haven't achieved. All my times with a stroller are my second best times (that's now true in a 2miler, a 5k, a 5 miler, a 10 miler, a half marathon, and a marathon) and some good intentioned running friends point that out... I try to comfort myself by saying that every stroller time is faster than than any non stroller time before cancer. And this half marathon was faster than any I had done with or without a stroller in almost 2 years...

Still, the last time I went out to that running community, they asked me to speak shortly before the marathon. And the first thing I said which no one remembers was apologizing for the shortness of my shorts but what some did remember was to not be as dumb as me and wait till something goes wrong before they do something right. But it was clear they already were smarter than me that day, long before I won a marathon. Because they let me do one with her. And when I had a flat tire, there was someone who was kind enough to offer to babysit so I could still run and when they realized I wasn't interested in that

someone who tried to put in a tire tube, someone who gave me a spare tire. Strangers, now friends, who biked next to Kiana. And unlike last time which was a last second marathon sign up, we had more time. So we took in a museum of the area, some cajun food, some good dancing showing why that environment has bred good runners and good people. Both times I've gotten to share their company on the road or in a restaurant, it was my honor to do so.

More than a couple of people questioned my decision to sign up for that race because of the bridge (when we were driving across it, I questioned the decision and I definitely did so when I was running up it). Ildan once wrote that "the fate of the bridges is to be lonely; because bridges are to cross not to stay." And there's no way to avoid thinking of the reason that some of the connection has come from this is cancer. I hope cancer can be as lonely as long as possible. But I'm not in denial that it was the bridge that got me back to that place with those wonderful people. While I'd only ever been in the area once before, let's just say the Bon Jovi song this time was "Who says you can't go home?" felt very appropriate.  So last time all I did was race there and the fact that I won the marathon was a big deal to many. The simple truth is that I enjoyed this race and trip a lot more because Kiana and I got not only the privilege of sharing the road with them but sitting across tables chatting with them, dancing with them. And however lonely that bridge on the island is, or the bridge of cancer is, I believe those human connections made by that running community, by that disease and by my princess and I are here to stay. And I'll  run up and down any bridge to keep that happening. 

Present Company

Remember, remember the 5^th of November. 3 years ago today, November 5, 2010 I woke up in an ambulance at a birthday party and somehow Life Part II was conceived… There have been many strange things that happened since that day when I’d never called in sick at a job I’d had for a few years, I was regularly using my passport, I was married for almost 10 years, I’d never ran with my daughter, I had a fatter bank account… It’d be less than honest to say I don’t miss some of those things but here 3 years later… somehow each year being stranger than the one before with wins, gains and losses… all I can say is that I’m grateful to still be standing.

What do you do to celebrate a cancerversary as some call it? Well I woke up a cute girl who somehow intuitively had made an I love you daddy heart. Perhaps, it was as a response to the heart of stone I brought her back from a trip I had over the weekend in Colorado. In the strange blessings that have come I’ve gotten to run in Colorado, Vermont, and Idaho this year in some serious elevation… talk about a runner’s high. But on the trip to Colorado, there was fun dancing, great eating, one of the big highlight was that I got to hang out with an old friend, Leandro Bizama. He was a friend who I knew in high school, who after college graduation convinced me to volunteer in the South Pacific as a high school teacher in the Marshall Islands, who came shortly after the biopsy and shortly after the surgery. The Marshallese, at least when I was there 10 years ago, were not very punctual, internet barely existed there and being a teacher was tough because a huge percentage of those with or without education ended up in very similar occupations, since there’s only so many options on an island that’s 4 square miles. We reminisced about old days but I was

reminded of an old phrase that the Marshallese have, “Present company is always more important than future company.” This was the rationale/motivation/excuse for the lack of unpunctuality because if you were with someone and enjoying their company, it was far ruder to leave it than it was to keep someone else waiting. I know that’s against the American approach generally speaking and there is an argument to be made of why one culture is known for being more productive than the other but still… while I was in Colorado for 3 days, I am sad to admit that it took 33 years to achieve this but for the first time in my entire adult life, I went three days in a row without setting an alarm.  In simple honesty, the body is too well tuned to getting up early so I did and still ran every day but it somehow made falling asleep each night easier.

And, while I didn’t achieve it as well as I should have, I tried to stay off my phone more. )It was great when I was in places were there gorgeous mountains covered in snow and trees and waterfalls and no phone reception). But when there was I semi copped out beause I had friends doing Spartan races and the New York marathon and of course there was the Cowboys game and hearing in on how church went and how cute somebody’s kids were that day... I’m a guy who obviously over shares between this blog and facebook and they are a way to make a human connection. But there is no scene more ironic to me than when I go to a party or a restaurant and there is a table full of people and every one of them is on their phone and none of them are having that old fashioned thing called conversation. I’ve made deals with people that whoever is the first to pick up their phone at the table picks up the tab, both one on one and in a group setting. For me, before this all started in 2010, I’d never had internet access at home, didn’t have a smart phone. I got the technology oddly enough due to cancer to research the medical things, to connect with people who weren’t around every day more efficiently. It helped with those things and I’m a guy with memory problems so it helps to be able to take quick pictures and make quick notes and sometimes play the rehab games right on the fly (the get an ipad recommendation actually came from a neuropsychologist who said you could turn it on and work on things more efficiently than in a book or a notebook or on a computer).

That is the beauty of hanging out with a six year old. As I sit through conversations about being inspirational (still correct everyone to say it's perspirational) or answer questions about how do you do it, I have an incredibly simple answer, I have a great teacher. As I walked Kiana to school today, she all but screamed stop and then moved a snail off the sidewalk and put it in the grass so that I didn’t crush it. When we go to the playground she’s running and hanging out with people she likes. The things people have been kind enough to commend me for, exercising and getting time in with people I love are things every six year old in Kiana’s class does without any instruction. I’m a guy with memory problems but I am embarrassed and grateful that it took brain cancer to remind me of those forgotten and neglected basics.

I know there are times we make big deals out of anniversaries and birthdays. When I was married I treated each one of those sacred, taking each of those days off and doing something fun… well look how well that worked out. But the reason was that I’d neglected some daily things… so what am I doing today to celebrate life? I made Kiana breakfast, walked her to school, I’m going to iron my laundry, go to Costco, have lunch with some good friends, do my lumosity brain rehab, do some homework with her, do a track workout with more good friends and then put her to bed.

I was a guy who had his life planned 10 years in advance and the universe laughs at my plans with each year has seemed stranger than the one before. I’ve enjoyed big celebrations after races and accomplishments. If I’ve erred anywhere, I’ve noticed that I really don’t have any long term plans anymore. I am not trying to be healthy only to get to 70; it’s because fruit salad and exercise are good today. It’s been my experience that most things that are good for you in the long term, while they don’t bat a thousand, are consistently positive for you on the day to day. There are people who are incredibly good with people and have no blog and no facebook, twitter etc. There are those whose entire social life appears to be on those and rarely if ever make the old fashioned hug, handshake, high five. Between the extreme I’d choose the former. I’m probably a long way from taking down this blog or shutting down my facebook account but they won’t come out during any of those “celebrations” today. While it’s not always completely possible, it is a good way to live and enjoy that present company is more important than future company (or past company for that matter). Because a guy with memory problems, remembers 3 years to date of when cancer started that today’s daily tasks are very much worth celebrating.