Thank You, TNT Nike Women’s Marathon Team

In a little more than a week, a bunch of you will be heading to the City by the Bay for an amazing experience. For some of you, it will be your first marathon or half-marathon. For others, maybe it will be your second, or third, or more. But for all of you, it will be the culmination of a lot of hard work, and act of making a difference in this world. And as a cancer survivor, I want to thank you for that. So for those of you on TNT Richmond, Team Virginia, or some other TNT group heading to the Nike Women’s Marathon next weekend, please accept my thanks and my gratitude.

It has been seven years for me now, since I was starting to head down the stretch during my chemotherapy. I guess that by October of 2002, you could consider that I was at about the 20 mile point of my cancer marathon, and was pretty sick and tired of it. But despite all that - maybe I had some denial, or maybe it is just a lack of common sense - all through chemo, I almost always had this expectation that things would turn out fine. It’s been since that time, reflecting on my experience and hearing the cases of so many people who didn’t have as much luck as I did, that I realize how tenuous and random surviving any type of cancer is. And that makes me realize how much work remains to develop cures that not only are very effective, but that don’t halfway kill the person who is going through them.

I bet this race will be a lot of fun. It is one that I hope to do for TNT before I hang up my running shoes some day. So I would love to hear comments back when you return home about what you thought. I will be thinking of you on the 18th as you run and walk all throughout a truly beautiful city.

When you start the race, and worry about how far you have to go – think of all those starting their battle with cancer that day, and how intimidating and frightening their race appears to them at the start.

When you are running up one of those steep hills that San Francisco is famous for – think about how those with cancer have to climb steep and difficult hills every day.

When you run past the Golden Gate Bridge – think of how the cancer experience bridges the patient from their pre-cancer life to life after cancer, often with continuing financial and medical difficulties.

If you are chugging along through one of the famous fogs of that area – think of the dense mental fogs that roll in during chemotherapy.

If the sun beats down on you with solar radiation as you run along – think of cancer patients dealing with the exhaustion and burns of radiation therapy.

If you have a tough five minute stretch when it seems difficult to keep going – think that during that time, one more American was just told “you have leukemia (or lymphoma, or multiple myeloma).”

When you are coming down the stretch and see the finish line, and break out into a huge smile – think of the cancer patients who never make it to the finish. And remember that your efforts, your fundraising, and your dedication will help more of them to reach that finish line in the future.

Thanks for doing what you have done! I hope you have a great time and a great race!

GO TEAM!

Gimme Five! for Light the Night

This is my first Light the Night fundraising note.

Hi everyone,

If you donated to my 2009 Cancer Kickin’ Campaign for the Country Music Half-Marathon in Nashville, then this note is just informational – no action is requested. Thanks again for your generous donation.

If you are currently out of work, then this note is just informational – no action is requested. I sincerely hope that you are employed soon.

But if you are not in one of these two groups, then I am asking you to Gimme 5!

1. Gimme 5 minutes of your time! On October 29, I’ll be walking two miles to light the night! Go to my Light the Night web page at:

http://pages.lightthenight.org/va/Richmond09/ARitter

There, you will learn more about The Leukemia and Lymphoma Society and its Light the Light Program. In the four or five minutes that it takes you to review my web page, someone new is diagnosed with a blood cancer – so money for research and patient support is desperately needed.

2. Gimme 5 bucks! I am trying to raise a very modest $200 by doing this event, and so I am requesting a very modest five dollar donation to this great cause. I have already raised $45, and so if only 31 of you getting this note make a five dollar donation, then I will reach that goal – and you will have helped in the battle against cancer. Of course, larger or smaller donations are much appreciated, too!

3. Gimme 5 friends! Send this e-mail to five of your friends or colleagues and help me spread the word about what I am doing! Maybe they will want to make a donation as well, or maybe they know someone who has cancer and who will get some encouragement that people are out there making a difference.

4. Gimme 5 months since I ran the half-marathon in Nashville! During the five months that I’ve been taking it easy since the race, approximately 21,600 Americans have died from blood cancers.

5. Gimme 5 years since volunteering for LLS! This coming January marks five years since I went to a informational meeting for TNT and signed up to do the Midnight Sun Marathon. I am alive and healthy seven years after getting Hodgkin lymphoma only because of cancer research. When I was ill, I pledged to give something back once I was healthy again, and raising money for LLS is what I have been called to do. But I can’t do it without you.

6. Gimme 5 hundred thousand Americans who have contracted blood cancers in those five years! I’ve been incredibly fortunate to be a survivor! Help me help others with cancer to win their battles.

So Gimme Five! You’ll be helping so many others, and you will feel good about yourself all day! Thanks for the support, and thanks again if you donated to my Team in Training campaign earlier.

With humble gratitude,
Art

Two Things We Can All Agree On

At least, I hope we can.

I got an email from Lance Armstrong’s Livestrong Organization a couple of days ago. His assertion is that no matter what side, or sides, of the health care / health insurance debate – ever raucous and impolite – you are on, every American should be able to agree on the two following premises:

1. No American should be denied health insurance coverage because of pre-existing conditions.

2. No American should lose their insurance due to changes in health or employment.

As Lance asks: “Will you sign the LIVESTRONG Action petition to make sure any legislation includes these two critically important reforms? We’ll deliver these to Capitol Hill this month as the debate reaches its climax and make sure our voices are heard in the debate:"

http://www.livestrongaction.org/campaigns/healthcare

Lance Armstrong knows a lot about this first hand. Here is what he had to say about it: "When I received my diagnosis, I was between cycling contracts. My new insurer used the diagnosis as a reason to deny coverage after the new contract was signed. Fortunately, one of my sponsors intervened. At their insistence, I was added to their insurance company and was able to continue my life-saving treatment. If my sponsor, a powerful company, had not gone to bat for me, I may not have made it."

"I was lucky. We can't rely on luck to ensure coverage and treatment for the millions of Americans affected by cancer. Some cannot get coverage because they've already been diagnosed. Others get calls from their insurance companies saying they have been dropped. It happens all the time—and it's unacceptable."

I plan on signing this and passing it on to friends and family. I hope that you will as well. There is no way that we can all agree on everything. But maybe we can all agree on these two things, and make our voices heard.

Spectator at Livestrong Dolphin Challenge

During my short weekend at the beach, a nice surprise was a 5K and 10K race Saturday morning, that started and ended right outside our condo. It is the Second Annual Livestrong Dolphin Challenge, and 500 participants ran or walked in the races.The route went 1.55 or 3.1 miles up Sand Fiddler Road in Sandbridge, and then turned around and came back to the start.

I chatted with a few of the participants before the race, including a woman in a TNT shirt who has done about 6 events for the Team. And it turned out that TNT's famous Coach Bob was announcing the race at the start - finish point, so it was great to see him! I watched the first hour of the race, cheering on the participants, who were mostly having a great time. Definitely I need to recruit a few of my buddies and do this race next year - maybe a small team of us who are cancer survivors. The money raised goes to two great causes: Livestrong and Dolphin Rescue (VA Beach). Plus, nothing wrong with an early October weekend at the beach!

It did get me in the mood for running, because when I came home today, I went back to Echo Lake Park and alternating running and walking six 0.75 mile laps around the lake. So at least I proved I could run and walk more than 5K despite not doing much running since the half-marathon in Nashville.

I snapped a few photos of the event.

Being Livestrong, yellow was a dominant color. This was the pace car that led the pack.

The starting gate

The pack at the start of the race. The girls on the left in yellow were the entire field hockey team at a local high school.

Friday Flashes

Wow, TGIF! It’s been a busy week, and I’ve not had a lot of chances to write this week. For one thing, I’ve been watching the Ken Burns series on the National Parks every night since Sunday. Two hours of TV every night is a ton for me, and it takes time away from reading and writing. But it has been a very interesting series. All these things we take for granted in our society are there because they became important to someone, and they took it on and got it done. I’ve been to at least 15 of our magnificent national parks, maybe more, and it is fascinating to see some of the history and people behind their creation.

It was my sister’s birthday earlier this week – happy birthday, Sis! It is a birthday that she certainly wasn’t guaranteed when she came down with a very difficult form of breast cancer two and a half years ago. She had such a difficult time, and is still worn out a lot, but doing OK and is still in remission. With her type of cancer, that always needs to be watched. But as I wrote the other week, there is no point sitting around worrying your life away that you might get cancer again some day.

78 to one – how do you like those odds? We are moving to a new office building at my workplace this weekend, and although it is a nice facility in many ways, the men’s room on each floor is very small and has only one urinal. And there are 78 men (plus several dozen women) on my floor. This is going to get interesting, and I could write a very humorous post about it, although it might get me trouble at work, so I won’t. Even though I would not be blaming our management for it, management can be so touchy. People might be seen sleeping at their desks, because I think that coffee consumption will have to go down! I wrote a poem about the dearth of urinals, to be sung to the tune "Yellow Submarine" by the Beatles, but maybe I had better not post that here! If anyone is desperate to see it, you can email me.

I had lunch with my friend, Susan, the other day, and she was telling me about the great time she had at the Augusta half-iron man triathlon. She said that I should do it as my first tri. I’m like, uh, don’t you think I should do a shorter tri first, like an Olympic distance triathlon? Reminds me – I need to buy those goggles and try to improve my swimming!

Thank You, Seagull Century Team!

You’re moving a bit slowly, but still making progress along this route that you have never before traveled. It’s not so bad, as things have felt fairly level. Then you get to an uphill tick in the grade, and it’s harder, but still doable. Suddenly, you round a bend, and you see an impossibly steep climb ahead. But you know you have to climb it, so up you go. You’re giving it your best shot, but feel yourself slowing down despite your most determined efforts. “I can do it,” you say to yourself. “I can do it.” The hill gets steeper and steeper. “I can do it.” You cannot believe how tired you are. “I ---- can ---- do ---- it,” you gasp. You reach a place where the steepness and difficulty is more than you can imagine. You have never felt more fatigued, exhaustion wrapping itself around you like a shroud. You feel like you are barely moving. Waves of nausea and mental confusion sweep over you. But you don’t stop. You shift into a lower gear, reach deep inside, and keep moving. And suddenly the hill crests out! You know that there will be many more stretches like this before this race is through, but for now, you are on a little downhill section. You’ll face the next hill when it comes, and not before.

Maybe you think that I am talking about a bike race, but I am not. I am trying to communicate what a blood cancer patient going through chemotherapy or radiation is experiencing on their wild, multi-month ride. And what a tough ride it is! Not everyone is lucky enough to finish this race, and when they don’t, the outcome is not a “DNF” in the results page, but an obituary.

But thanks to you, and to so many like you who are part of Team in Training, the race through the valley of cancer and over its the imposing mountains will become less difficult in the future. Your hard work, your dedication, and the fundraising you do will help level the hills and add an extra gear as people struggle through their difficult treatments. Just as many more people survive cancer now than did 10 or 20 years ago, so even more will be surviving 10 or 20 years for now. And you will have helped make that possible. I, and all survivors, thank you deeply for this.

You’ve done the hard work, the training, the long rides, and the all so important fundraising. Now it is time to go enjoy the Team in Training experience at an event with your teammates. It is your reward! I am in awe of your ability to cycle 100 miles! And while I doubt you will experience any hills in Coastal Maryland like the ones I described earlier, you just might encounter some wind. From my limited experience with cycling – mostly on old one speed bikes – wind in your face seems as hard as a hill. I remember once riding along the hard sand of a beach for about four miles. I decided to go into the wind, so I would have it at my back for the ride home. As I reached the end of the beach and turned around, the wind immediately switched 180 degrees, and it was literally like riding uphill both ways! I trust that won’t happen to you at the Seagull Century.

So, go have a great ride, and a great experience. Create amazing memories to tell your grandchildren and your great grandchildren about. And please accept the sincere thanks of this blood cancer survivor. You are making a difference, and it is appreciated.

GO TEAM!

Monday Musings

On this Monday, I thought I would try to relate three seemingly unrelated events over the past few days.

Last Friday evening, we were invited to a Leukemia and Lymphoma Society discussion about blood cancer research and how LLS plays its role. The event included a delicious dinner donated by Morton’s Steak House in Richmond, and also gave everyone a chance to socialize before and during dinner. A presentation was made by Deborah Banker, PhD, who is Vice President for Research Communications for LLS. Dr. Banker is an expert on blood cancer research, having worked at Seattle’s Fred Hutchinson Cancer Research Center. She discussed several different specific researchers among the 400 currently sponsored by LLS, and the development of such drugs as Gleevec and Rutuxin. She showed us graphs that clearly demonstrated that the five year survivorship of all major blood cancers is up dramatically. Even one as difficult to treat as multiple myeloma has gone from 12 percent survivorship 40 years ago to 36 percent now. Dr. Banker stressed the importance of continuing to raise money for cancer research, and how many advances in blood cancers lead directly to advances in other cancers as well. With Federal funding down for cancer research, other sources such from organizations like LLS are even more important.

Early the very next morning, I was up before 6AM to go greet the Richmond TNT marathon team for the Nike (San Francisco) and US Marine Corps (Washington, DC) marathons. These dedicated people, including their coaches and mentors, have been giving up their Saturdays for months now, and working very hard to train for their marathon while raising money for LLS. I spoke to them about Dr. Banker’s talk from the previous night, and how important what they are doing is – and how much cancer patients appreciate them. I did a water stop / SAG wagon at the 4 mile point and got to cheer them on. GO TEAM!

Last night, I checked some blogs that I follow and learned that the four year old daughter of the best friend of one of the bloggers was just diagnosed with leukemia. The family, while ready to fight, is scared and devastated about what their daughter must endure.

Three separate events – Friday, Saturday and Sunday. How are they related? People doing Team in Training, with all their hard work, are raising money for LLS. LLS provides dollars to researchers, who come up with enhanced understandings of how cancers work, and how to defeat them. And children like little Ashley, just diagnosed, has a tough fight ahead but a fighting chance to survive and lead a happy, healthy life.

So if you do Team in Training, and wonder sometimes why you do it, that’s why!

Should I Tri?

With no moon shining, it was quite dark as I moved along the path through the woods a couple of hours before dawn. I was concentrating on not tripping over something or turning an ankle in the dark, but I was also preoccupied with another dilemma. Not since I debated the half vs. full marathon question with the little red devil and the little white angel have I been so conflicted over an issue. In a way, this one is an even tougher question. In 2010, should I do a marathon once more for Team in Training? Or should I do my first triathlon? All of the options kept tumbling through my brain.

The flash of a tiny thunderbolt very close by jolted me out of my thoughts! My nose wrinkled at the malodorous scent of sulfur as it wafted on the breeze on this cool morning. Seconds later, the melodious sound of a harp gently caressed my eardrums. “Oh no!” I said. “Not you two again!”

My old “friend”, the little red devil, blew some smoke rings and displayed a somewhat false looking smile as he placed a little asbestos pillow on a branch to my left and sat down. “Hear you’re having a tough time making up your mind again. I wanted you to know that I’m here to help anyway I can, Big Guy” he said.

On my right, I heard a tender feminine voice speaking, and turned to see the same little white angel that I had met earlier this year fluttering in the air. “He’s not here to help you,” she said with conviction. “He is going to try to confuse you. But I’m here to help. I know you are conflicted once again. Let me help you sort things out!” She plucked an E-flat on her harp to accent her words.

“Look,” I said, “It’s true that I am going back on forth on this, but I don’t see how having this conversation with the two of you can do anything but make me late for work. And I don’t think my boss is going to believe me if I tell him why I am late!”

“Come on, Art! We can be done with this conversation in less than a minute,” said the little red devil. “You know damn” – he chuckled with glee as he said this word – “well that you want to do a triathlon. Break the mold. Think outside the race course. Do something different. Earn a TNT tri pin for your hat! 2010 is your year!”

“No, Art. It is too difficult, too dangerous,” said the little white angel. “You could drown. You could flip your bike and crush your skull. Do the marathon again. Maybe a tri in 2011 would make sense.”

The red devil laughed so hard that tears poured from his glowing vermilion eyes and sizzled down his face, disappearing in little puffs of steam. “Crush his skull? Oh, now that is funny! Like that would hurt him!” He doubled over with laughter.

“Laugh it up, you sulfurous little glow worm,” I said. “I know that it doesn’t always show, but I do have a brain in there – somewhere. Besides, as much as I want to do a triathlon, I really like the idea of doing a marathon in San Francisco. The Nike Womens’ Marathon. I have family there.”

“Family is so important!” The little white angel was quick to capitalize on my words. “Think how cool it would be to have your sister, nieces, and nephew cheering for you on the race course. Oh, you would love that!”

(continue to part 2)

Should I Tri? (Part 2)

(continued from part 1)

“Get real!” the little red devil chimed in. “Your family has better things to do than watch you go by for 5 seconds on the race course. Of course, at your speed, maybe it would be more like 15 seconds, but still, come on! Step up! Do a triathlon!”

“Art, I saw you attempt to swim the other day,” said the angel. “I was off to the side at the tri team swim practice. And I’ll be plain spoken. You swim about as well as a bucket of iron.”

“You know, I thought I heard a harp playing at the Y, but the lifeguard had the radio on and I figured I just had water in my ears. You didn’t wander into the men’s shower, did you?” I asked. The little angel’s face turned a faint shade of crimson but she said nothing.

The red devil rejoined the debate. “Look, I know you aren’t the world’s best swimmer, but you’re not the world’s worst either, at least assuming that 98 year old one-legged guy I met last week is still alive. But where I live, there are plenty of guys who can help you. They know all sorts of ways to cheat the system and never get caught – at least not in this lifetime. We’ll help you.”

“Art, you can’t cheat!” said the white angel in shock. “Your accomplishment would be meaningless and cheapened. You need to sink or swim on your own. And you tend to sink. Do another marathon, or better yet, another half marathon.”

“By Satan, what is the big deal about cheating just a little bit? It adds spice to life.” The little red devil shook his head in disgust and spat on the ground. I quickly pulled my water bottle off my fuel belt and dumped out half its contents before the smoldering leaves got fanned into a forest fire. “Look, Art. You are capable of doing a triathlon without cheating. You are capable of learning to swim well enough, even though it won’t be pretty. And you already know you can ride a bike, even though it’s been a while. You’ll pick it up again. It’s, it’s… it’s like riding a bicycle!” The tiny devil laughed in delight at his attempt at humor while the little white angel shook her head and started playing a Broadway show tune on her harp to calm down.

She regained her calm and spoke back up. “Art, another thing you might like about the San Francisco Women’s Marathon is the scenery. The Golden Gate Bridge. The Presidium. The Pacific Ocean. Alcatraz. Fisherman’s Warf….”

“24,000 cute women in running shorts and skimpy tops,” interrupted the little red devil. “Now that’s what I call great scenery! Hey, maybe you’d get lucky!”

“That is outrageous!” the little white angel practically shouted! “He’s married!”

“Oh, lighten up, you pompous moralistic little harp-playing flying freak,” mocked the devil. “Like he would have a clue what to do with 24,000 women. Now, there are some guys where I live that, oh, never mind. Anyway, what I meant was maybe he would get lucky and not finish dead last with all those women running. There has got to be at least one that is slower than he is.”

“When have I ever finished dead last in a race, or even close to it? You’re not winning me over, little devil,” I said grimly.

(continue to part 3)

Should I Tri? (Part 3)

(continued from part 2)

“I know that,” said the quaint little red devil. “I’m just joking around. Where I live you really don’t hear much joking or laughter. Trust me on that. And it turns into a real buzz-kill at times. So when I go out on a little road trip I just like to lighten the mood a bit. That’s all. I apologize if anyone’s feelings got hurt. I’m on your side, Big Guy. I know that deep inside, you really want to do a triathlon. We devils have a sixth sense about what lurks in the hearts of men, and women.”

I pursed my lips. “I do want to do a tri,” I said. “I am worried about the swim, and about some maniac clipping my bike during training with his car as he looks down at his Blackberry to fire off a text. But I do want to do a triathlon; to be able to say that I am a marathoning, triathloning, cancer survivor. I also want to do more marathons – I know that. I like the idea of running Nike or Seattle in 2010.”

The little devil stroked his pointy red beard thoughtfully, smiled slyly, and with a snap of his fingers produced a thick document written on some kind of asbestos paper. “What if you did both?” he said. “I know the top guy where I live, and he will cut you a fabulous deal. Do as many events as you want. Get top fundraiser in the country at all of ‘em. Even win them all – not just your age cohort - win the whole race. Win the triathlon. In fact, he will throw in a gold medal in the 2012 Olympic marathon. You’ll be famous! You’ll be rich! All you have to do is agree to a few simple, harmless terms!” He waved the last page in front of me and with another snap of his fingers, produced a tiny fireball for me to read by in the dark. The contract said something about deeding all rights to my immortal soul for eternity or until hell froze over, which ever came last. I squinted at the scrawled signature. “Louis? Lavinious? Oh, Lucifer!” “The Big Man himself,” the little red devil said proudly. “Just sign here, right below his name. Your fingerprint is signature enough – we trust you,” he said with a wink.

The little white angel could see that I was tempted and looked alarmed. “Oh, that is a terrible idea,” she said. “What does a man profit if he gains the world but loses his soul?”

The little red devil was clearly annoyed. “Little angel, you must be a real joy at a party. Look, Art, you don’t lose your soul – you just loan it to my boss for a while,” he said. (“A really long while,” he muttered under his fiery breath.)

“You know,” I said, “I have no interest in making a deal to accomplish something for a good cause. I may do a marathon, I may do a triathlon, but I’ll decide myself and train without any help from some mysterious power, evil or otherwise. Thanks but no thanks. Now, if you will excuse me, I need to finish my run and get ready for work. Goodbye.”

I took off slowly running along the path through the dark woods, feeling my way along with my feet. I could hear the two of them arguing behind me, their voices fading and eventually disappearing as my separation from them increased. I hoped that the little red devil wouldn’t get too agitated and start a conflagration by accident.

Rather than the little angel and devil helping me to clarify things, my dilemma seemed even deeper after this bizarre conversation. There are so many things I can do next for Team in Training, but I can’t really fundraise for more than one event. Each event has its own advantages and disadvantages. How in the name of heaven will I make up my mind with such a devilish impasse? It all keeps coming back to these two related questions: should I run again? Or should I tri? The issues are not red or white, but all kinds of shades of pink.