The Lucky Guy in the Purple Shirt

This article was published in the January 2008 Virginia TNT Team Ties:

“Gimme five! Gimme five years!” That’s what I was thinking in the spring of 2002 when I’d gone from discovering that I had a large, foreign mass in my chest to ultimately learning that I had stage-three Hodgkin lymphoma. I was told that I had about an 80% probability of living for five years, which is excellent for cancer, but even so, I wasn’t taking anything for granted. I would live, and I planned on using the experience to learn, grow and become a stronger person. I was maybe a little cocky (some might say, typical male), thinking that I’d just keep working full time right through chemotherapy. That is, until the second or third day of it, when I realized that this thing was really going to kick my butt for six months! Cancer has a way of removing some of one’s pride and making you face reality.

One thing I felt very early was that I wanted to give something back once I was healthy again, out of gratitude for surviving. I learned about TNT a few months after I was in remission, and ultimately decided that was how I was going to give back, starting with walking the Anchorage, Alaska marathon in 2005. This was followed a year later by the San Diego marathon, also as a walker. Along the way, I learned some of the intricacies of training for a marathon and fund-raising, both of which were totally new experiences for me. I also was exposed to the camaraderie and joy of attaining difficult goals, Team in Training style, and was hooked!

Now, here I am, preparing for my third event, walking the PF Chang’s Marathon in Arizona in January, 2008. In 2002, I asked for five years, and I got them. In addition to all the usual reasons I do TNT, this year’s endeavor in Arizona is a special and personal celebration of reaching the five year remission milestone in December. I know that none of this was guaranteed, and that many others who developed cancer five years ago are no longer here. On January 13, I will be pretty psyched up – all the hard work of training and fund-raising will be in the past. My race shirt will be covered by the names of those who I and my donors are honoring. I’ll gratefully think of all who helped me make my five year milestone event a success: donors, family, friends, coaches, mentors, teammates, patient honorees, and LLS staff. I’ll remember again that I am trying to make the difference I swore I would five years ago, and how blessed I am to have such an opportunity. I’ll think of all the “Purple People” in Arizona and Florida who are also making a difference that day. Then, I’ll take the first step of the 47,000 or so steps between the start and the finish.

So if you see me during the race, ”Gimme five!” I’ll be the lucky guy with the big smile in the purple shirt!

Coach Sarah

Our coaches do so much for us with Team in Training. Every Saturday, they are out there, giving of their weekend, their time, and themselves. They give us training advice, train with us, and help us with stretching, nutrition, and injury prevention. They work hard to come up with training schedules and routes that are fun and interesting. TNT would not be possible without them.

On race day, each team sends one coach to the event. In that way, there are dozens of coaches there to support us in our events. Our head coach for Richmond, Sarah, went for out to Arizona with us as the coach for Team Virginia. The coaches work incredibly hard. In Arizona, the marathon and the half marathon were more or less going on simultaneously, so coaches only had to do one or the other. Sarah got assigned to the marathon, and she met everyone from team Virginia at one point or another.

She probably put in 30-32 miles that day, running and walking with us for a distance, then going back to run with others from the team. It was her first TNT event as a coach, and I think she enjoyed it a lot. We were all glad to have her out there with us. We all owe her a lot of thanks.

Plus, in addition to being a great coach, she is a really nice person and a pleasure to be around.

Here are Sarah and I near mile 24, with me giving a high five for five years in remission. She walked with me for about a half mile, getting me to the bridge connecting Scottsdale and Tempe. How about that purple hair!

Arizona Marathon – Second Half

One of great things about doing a marathon is the crowd support. Many people are out there to support a specific loved one, but they cheer everyone all the same. And of course the “Purple Cheer Squads”, TNT staff and volunteers, cheer for everyone and especially wildly for those of us doing Team in Training. Then there are many TNT coaches spread throughout the entire race, giving support and encouragement for everyone, and helping in the case of injury. The participants cheer each other. At the Rock N Roll events, there are fun rock bands every mile or so. And finally, there are cheerleading squads, like this one:

For the second half of the marathon, I ran for two minutes each time I got to a milepost, then I would walk the rest of the mile. I kept trying to keep track of the time I started each mile, using the big digital clock that they have at each milepost. When I got to the next mile, I would calculate my time for the previous mile, but as I got more and more tired it was difficult to do. Let’s see, did I hit that last milepost at 4:14:27, or was it 4:13:27? Or maybe it was 4:12:17. So I either just did an 11:40 mile, a 12:40 mile, or maybe about 13:55. I was even having trouble calculating the difference, assuming I knew the actual time to start from, so I finally just gave up. It was what it was.

At about mile 19.5, I was shocked to suddenly catch up with three Virginia teammates. They were all runners, and faster than me. In fact, I was the slowest person on the team, plus I am sure the oldest. It turns out that Sandy had developed huge blisters on both feet and had slowed to a walk, gamely going on. Her husband Mike had stopped running to walk with her. The third was JoanE, a great gal from our Richmond team. She was willing ill and worn out, and had changed to a walk. Believe it or not, if you are used to running, walking long distances is difficult because your muscles are just trained differently. But all three were not giving up despite the pain and misery, and they all finished. I snapped this photo:

I slowed to walk with them for a bit. Mike and Sandy went on ahead, and JoanE and I walked together until mile 20. I asked her if she was OK to be on her own, which she was, so I gave her a sweaty hug and picked up my pace, passing Mike and Sandy again. I met my coach, Sarah, near mile 24 and we walked together for a half mile or so, crossing the bridge into Tempe. People actually called this a “hill” because the rest of the course was so flat. Sarah turned back to meet the remaining three Virginians, but it sure was great to see her. A couple miles flowed by, and now I was at the campus of Arizona State University, heading towards Sun Devil Stadium, when a most welcome sight appeared:

The time on the clock, which is the gun time, was 6 hours and 22 seconds. Since I had crossed the start about 8 minutes after the gun, I knew I would break six hours, and the feeling was great. I went into my final run, every part of my body hurting, every step an effort, for 352 more yards. I crossed the finish line and threw my hands up in the air, then as quickly brought them to my eyes to brush back tears. Five years in cancer remission, and my third marathon to celebrate it. How fortunate I am! I slowed to a very slow walk as my brain told my legs that they no longer needed to move as quickly. I got my shoe tag removed and received my medal, putting it around my neck. As I walked to find the check-in tent, I saw Chuck, Suzanne, and Warren waiting for me, and for the remaining three Virginia teammates. I was so appreciative of them being there. They had to be so tired, and could have been relaxing back at the hotel, but they waited for us slowpokes. Chuck had run a great race, but had missed qualifying for Boston by a few minutes. He was still a marathoner, though. And Suzanne, walking most of the race, now was a half-marathoner and had broken three hours by several minutes. Warren snapped this picture of the three of us with our medals:


I used Suzanne's cell phone to call Mary and tell her I was back. She was monitoring the race on the internet and told me that I had come in under six hours. It turned out my time was 5:56:44, a great time for me, especially after all the missed training. The four of us hung around until Coach Sarah, Mike, Sandy, and JoanE came in, then we headed back to the hotel, ice water baths, and the evenings victory party. Another great Team in Training event was over, but the memories are for the rest of my life.

Arizona Marathon – First Half

I crossed the starting line about 8 minute after the gun, setting the start of my “chip time”. We all wear a chip on a shoe that registers at the start, the 10K point, the half-marathon point, the 20 mile point, and the finish. Therefore no matter where you start in the pack, you will know your actual time, even if you are in the very back like I was. Plus the chip allows you to eventually figure out your time at various points. I suppose it also prevents runners from pulling a “Rosy Ruiz” and taking transportation to the late in the race and then jumping back in the field to finish in a spectacular time.

It is exciting and daunting at the same time to take that first step in a marathon. You put that foot over that line, feeling just great, and you realize that you have 26.2 miles ahead of you. That is 46,112 yards, and since my stride is about 36 inches, that means I had 46,111 more steps to take. Having already done two marathons, I also knew that the last six or seven miles will be pure pain and fatigue. But there is no going back.

The race course will pass through three cities: Phoenix, Scottsdale, and Tempe. Most of the mileage is in Phoenix of course, the capital of Arizona. The course is pretty flat, so at least we won’t be going up and down hills. Like San Diego and unlike Anchorage, most of the course goes through urban environments, but there were still some natural beauty to be seen, most notable Camelback Mountain. It really does look like a dromedary if you use a little imagination:



A few miles into the race, a TNT coach pointed out a lady with a big balloon about 100 yards ahead. She said “if you don’t pass that lady by the half-marathon point, you will be pulled from the race.” Holy cow! I had started at the very back of the pack, and had not idea that I had to pass someone way in front of me to stay in the race. I starting really moving my butt at that point, and passed her within a few minutes. I made sure I never saw her for the rest of the race.

Unlike Alaska, there really wasn’t much hope of seeing wildlife along the race course, although there was this cool statue of desert bighorn at about mile 9:




Another mountain, seen about seven or so miles into the race is Piestewa Peak, seen in the photo below. At the time of the race, it was known as Squaw Peak, but it was renamed to honor Lori Piestewa in April, 2008. She was the first American Indian woman to die in combat in the US Military in our history, having given her life on March 23, 2003 in Nasiriyah, Iraq.


Even though I originally wanted to hit 5:55:55 in the race, I had decided not to stress over the time. Therefore, I took my camera along and I stopped frequently to take photos along the race course, taking a total of about 35 photos during the race. The memories meant more to me than a race time. Even so, I got really annoyed with myself when I stopped for a quick pit-stop in a very short porta-potty line, and seven minutes later whoever was using the facility still hadn’t come out. I left in frustration, realizing that I had just added seven minutes to my time for no reason.

During the first half of the race, my split time for the 10k was 1:27:37 and for the half-marathon it was 3:02:58. At that point, my goal of 5:55:55 or at least coming under six hours seemed like a long shot, although I kept telling myself that I could do it since I wasted seven minutes in the porta-potty line. I had starting running a little at about the ten mile point, and decided that I would keep running a little each mile for as long as I could, even though I really hadn’t trained with running. At the least, despite taking pictures, I had a great shot of beating my previous personal record of 6:14:15, from San Diego in 2006.

See photos from the second half...

Arizona Marathon: Pre-Race

In addition to my summary of the trip ("Seasick in the Desert, but a PR all the Same"), I wanted to add a little more about the race. It was just an amazing experience.

I felt just fine the morning of the race, with the vomiting and vertigo of the day before in the past. We were up about 5:00, with the race to start about 7:40AM. In San Diego the year before, we had to be up about 3:30, so sleeping until 5:00 was great. My roommate, Chuck, is a great guy. It was his first marathon and he was trying to qualify for the Boston Marathon with his time. Obviously he is much faster than me because I couldn’t qualify for the Boston Marathon if someone drove me the first 25 miles. He is active with Team in Training and has helped out with several half-marathons in the capacity of participant and mentor.

We had all of our stuff carefully, some would say obsessively, laid out neatly in our room. You don’t want to forget anything on race day. I ate the bagel and banana that I bought the night before for breakfast, met the rest of Team Virginia in the lobby, got some group photos taken, and loaded up on the bus. We had people on the team from Richmond, Tidewater, Charlottesville, and one young man from Kentucky. We all hung out a few blocks from the race start, chatting and trying to stay warm in the 45 degree air. It was looking like a beautiful day coming up, and everyone was excited. Everyone hit the porta-potties a time or two, including one extra time for me (see my post “O Canada”).

About a half hour before the race, our teammates who were doing the half-marathon said goodbye and left. My tremendous walking teammate, Suzanne, gave me hug and told me that she and her husband Warren would see me at the end of the race. Warren had battled non-Hodgkin lymphoma in 2007 and I had written his name on my race shirt. It really meant a lot for her to tell me that she would wait to see me at the end as it would be easy for her to head back to the hotel and get some rest.

After my porta-potty incident with the wonderful Canadian ladies (boy, that sounds a little weird, doesn’t it? Just read my “O Canada” post, OK?) I got in the very back of the marathon pack. I mean, I was in the very last row of participants in the whole race field! When I finally passed the starting line, a number of people were in a cherry picker over the start, including the governor of Arizona Janet Napolitano and a number of famous athletes, most notable Frank Shorter. Mr. Shorter is the first American male to win a gold medal in the Olympics in the marathon. I snapped a quick picture as I got to the start:



Then my race began!

Danielle

I have to say a few words about Danielle, the Leukemia and Lymphoma staff person assigned to our team for Arizona. She just did a great job. In particular with me, she got a lot more than she bargained for when I got sick. After I started throwing up, my roommate Chuck got very concerned and left to find Danielle, who came up the room. I was lying in bed, probably looking as pale as a ghost, and she was understandably concerned. After consulting with the TNT doctor, it was determined that I had to go to the emergency room, and lucky Danielle had to take me, since she had a car.

She was great, hanging out it the ER for hours when I am sure she had tons of things to do. Our pasta party was at 1PM, and I was putting us both in danger of missing it. Fortunately, the doctor didn't need much time with me, and I was cleared to go within 45 minutes of getting in to see the doctor - so we both made the pasta party. By then we were both starved since neither of us had breakfast.

I know Danielle was doing her job to take me to the hospital, but she did her job very well and really cared about how I was doing and whether I could make the race. I'll always appreciate this.

After doing three TNT events, I am so impressed with their staff that accompanied us to each event. But Danielle really went above and beyond. Plus, she was a great cheerleader for us out on the course.

O Canada!

There is something special about Canadians.

We always want to start a marathon well hydrated, and I did. So well hydrated that about 25 minutes before the start of the race, I had to make a quick visit to a porta-potty. As you can see from the photo, the lines were outrageous, but it was either go there or try to find one early in the race course, so I opted for the former. The line crept along, getting closer and closer to the start time. There were only minutes to go and I realized I was going to miss the start of the race unless I abandoned my quest, as there were still at least 20 people in front of me and the two people just behind me who were also doing the full marathon. We were all stressing a bit.

Just when things looked bleak, a lady at the very front of the line looked down the line and called out "Who is doing the full marathon? If you are, cut in front of us." The half marathon was not going to start for another hour, and she was kindly willing to let us in. The three of us practically sprinted down to the front. She and her two friends were from British Columbia. We chatted for a minute, then the "Star Spangled Banner" began to play. At the end of the USA National Anthem, I sang the opening few words to the Canadian National Anthem: "O Canada! Our home and native land ..." We thanked them profusely for their thoughtfulness. If I had gotten in any other line, I suppose I would have missed the start of the race.

After quickly clearing the porta potty, I sprinted to the very back of the marathon start line seconds before the gun. I think I will always remember these three kind ladies from our Great Neighbor to the North. O Canada!

Sea-Sick in the Desert, but a PR all the Same!

Final Update Message (January 19, 2008)
Greetings, with my final Team in Training update for this season.

So, how does one get sea-sick in the desert? Perhaps from riding the "ship of the desert", a camel? Or could it be because the American desert was once covered by seas, and maybe our bodies pick up some kind of weird aura from ancient times? Well, in my case, it was nothing so interesting, but congestion from my three-week cold that caused fluid in my ears. In any event, when I got up for our Saturday morning team run / walk, I was quite sick and dizzy and very concerned if I would recover in time for the marathon 24 hours later. The team doctor said that I had to go to the emergency room for evaluation and medical clearance to be allowed to do the race. Throwing up on the marathon course is not looked upon with favor by one's co-marathoners. It was in the ER that the inner ear fluid was discovered, prescriptions were prescribed, and a medical release was obtained. My guess is that the pressure changes from flying also contributed to the vertigo, maybe by pressure on the inner ear combined with the fluid. I've had plenty of colds before and flown plenty of times before, but I've never experienced this.

Celebrating five years remission with my third marathon and a high five!

So the next day, I was out there with thousands of others doing the PF Chang's Arizona Marathon, racing 26.2 miles through Phoenix, Scottsdale, and Tempe. As always, the support we got from Team in Training - coaches, staff, teammates, and cheering squads - was suburb, as was that of the race volunteers, bands, cheerleaders, and spectators. As one of my teammates said afterwards, tongue in cheek, "We are cheating when we do these marathons. No one else out there gets the support that the 'Purple People' get!" I've updated my web page with a photo and description of the event. And within a week, I will add a link there to more pictures from the marathon and my short explorations of the Sonorian Desert in Southern Arizona, so look for that soon on my web page. Here again is my TNT web site link:

http://www.active.com/donate/tntva/tntvaARitter2007

I was thrilled with my race because I set a PR (personal record) and also broke six hours for the first time. That is slow for a good runner, but is a very good walking pace (I did run about 10% of the race, especially once I realized I could break 6 hours if I kept it up). I missed my original goal of 5:55:55 by only about 50 seconds, despite a lot of setbacks with injuries and illnesses this season, and so am very pleased with the results.

A couple people asked if they can still make a donation to LLS, and they can until the end of the month, but I won't be doing any more race or fund-raising updates.

I feel so grateful to have recovered fully from my adventure with lymphoma nearly six years ago, and to be able to give something back in gratitude for my good fortune and good health. Of course I can only do this because of the generosity of so many people who have donated $11,350 to the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society on my behalf so far this season and over $31,600 in my three times of doing this. So until the next time I do this, thanks so much for the support of so many kinds and for the generosity.

With Gratitude and Thanks,
Art

Click here to see photos from the marathon:
http://share.shutterfly.com/action/welcome?sid=0EZN2jRyzZMXOA&notag=1

Racing for the Desert

Update and Fund Raising Message of January 6, 2008

Hi again, with one last Team in Training pre-race update. Even if you don't read this whole note, please at least look at the honoree names.

Usually, I am racing for the dessert but at the end of this week I'll be on an airplane racing for the desert. And in exactly one week and a couple of hours, I'll be racing in the desert in the PF Chang's Arizona Rock 'N' Roll Marathon, 26.2 miles of desert fun in Phoenix, Scottsdale, and Tempe. I am involved in this endeavor, which may seem somewhat masochistic, for a number of reasons. The primary one is to raise money for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society, and on that front, the generosity of many people has really come through with donations of $10,750.01 to date. A few of my other reasons for wanting to race (or at least plod) 26.2 miles with TNT on January 13 are to give back for what I received to survive lymphoma and to celebrate five years in remission, reached about a month ago.

But I also do this to maybe give a little hope and encouragement to those suffering from cancer. I was once as sick as many of them are, and now I am healthy enough and strong enough to do a marathon. I know personally a number of people going through cancer right now, including my sister, Ann. And I know indirectly of many more. It is a tough fight, far tougher than a marathon, against a foe that is remoreless and relentless, that never sleeps, never takes a break. But it can be defeated, as I and millions of others can attest. So if you know someone with cancer, tell them to stay strong and positive - it is my fervant hope that they will all be healthy again in the near future, even if they don't want to do a marathon.

There are a few of you who told me that you would like to donate later. Well, if you are one of these folks, later is now. So if you want to donate, or just check out my latest updates, photo, and honoree list, here again is the link to my Team in Training web page:

http://www.active.com/donate/tntva/tntvaARitter2007

On my web page, you can see the names of honorees scroll by. These are the names of people who have had cancer, have it now, or have died as a result of cancer. Most of these names come from people who have made donations, and who want to honor a specific person or persons with that donation. A number of others are people I know that I want to personally honor with my efforts. Since they are really what this whole thing is about, I am listing all their names here so that you can see them without them scrolling by. During this week, I will write these names on my Arizona race shirt, and on the morning of the race I will read them all again to myself as I try to think what they have all been through:

IN MEMORY OF: Allan Bernstein, Bob Caggiano, Debbie Hoysa, Joe Boisvert, Ellen Heim, Martha Anne Roberson, Ron Mason, Virginia Forth, Kristin Kalinke, Susan Lord, Julius (Fred) Dalley, Gerald (Jerry) Eastey, Marjorie Smith, Robert Smith, James Vaught, Earl Gowell, Joe Feely, Dr. Kurtis Hess, Rizalino A. Dilag Sr., Rudy Angerman, Linda Cox, Mark Smith, Kelly Bazemore, Mark Duva, Paul Torrice, Larry Burger, Janel Tara Pustilnik, Len Smith, Phyllis Moyer, Wilfred Thibeau, Camilla Stull

IN HONOR OF: Ann Ritter, Christine Grudinskas, Dick Dreselly, Ed Stone, Emma McFeely, Eric Lamp, Janice Wedwick, Jane Koehler, Kristen O'Brien, Kristi Garstang, Leroy Sievers, Marguerite Campoli, Mary Beth Gibson, Meg Brown, Nicki Patton, Paul Zamecnik, Susan Lawson, Tommy West, Carole Austelle, Wendy Wright, Loretta Hamann, Bob Banko, Jackie Connors, Barbara Gooby, Pat McAuliffe, Grace Oughton, Joseph Livingston, Marilyn Libman, Madison Chamberlain, Doug Barnett, Rachel Cox, Gerry Adamson, Barbara Adamson, John Hammel, Lillian Kerby, Lorna Noble, Walker Hutchins, Kittie Jackson Edwards, Wayne Gutmann, Kaley Grace Shoemaker, Teresa Burton, Kim Hill, Larry Stewart

If you will, think of me and my Teammates in Arizona and Florida on the 13th and say a little prayer or send us good karma. Thanks again for supporting me in so many ways during my "Celebrating Five Years Cancer Kickin' Campaign" for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society.

Best wishes,
Art

Bide Your Time, for Success is Near

January 5, 2008. The marathon is one week from tomorrow. It is amazing how quickly time goes by. We had our last team training today, only 8 miles. Eight miles feels really easy, I must say, which is good because 26.2 miles is going to feel pretty tough in a week. I am slowly getting over this cold, although it is hanging on just a bit after 11 days now. I am really glad to be doing this. Just today, I learned about a 12 year old girl who died of leukemia in 2007. That should never have to happen to a child, and I hope that my efforts and your donations will help other children to survive cancer in the future. Thanks again for the support! I know that some day, blood cancers and other cancers will be mostly curable or at least manageable, and I will have helped in some small way to make that possible.

Our send-off party, hosted by Coach Sarah, was a lot of fun, as it always is for Team in Training. It is our last chance normally to get together as a team. Over 4-5 months you develop a lot of camaraderie with your teammates, and now we will be splitting into two events, Arizona and Disney, and going our own ways. At the party, Amber presented me with a “top fund-raiser” TNT training vest for raising over $10,000 this season. Every time I train in this vest, I will think about all of the hard work and the generosity from so many people that made it possible.

During our send off party, one of the guys brought fortune cookies. My fortune was the top one: "Bide your time, for success is near." With the marathon just a week away at the time, this is a great fortune for me. I need to remember to bide my time during the race, and enjoy the experiences. Take time to create memories, capture pictures, and so on. Success is near, indeed. Then the next night, Mary and I decided to get take-out because is was late when we got back for exercising. My fortune that night was the lower one: "The job is well done." That is how I am feeling about wrapping up my third year participating in Team in Training. Once I have finished the marathon, the job - fund raising, training, and racing - will indeed be well done.