Halftime

As my last post described, my cancer has gone into remission after only 3 rounds of chemo.  While I still have 3 more rounds left to get through, it's a huge relief knowing that this chapter has an actual finish line.  Before knowing that the treatment was effective, there was always the question in my mind that it may not get all of it and I would have to move to a second line treatment and drag this out further.  I was also aware that early response to chemo for my specific type of lymphoma is a major predictor of long term survival (fellow nerds can view the study here.)  Another benefit of the fast response is that I no longer need to take the Allopurinol, so one less pill to take every day. 

Everything going forward seems somewhat anticlimactic, but I guess it's not.  I think about being at the halfway point like it's halftime in a game.  At halftime, you regroup, evaluate your performance and adjust your strategy if needed.  Well, no adjustment is needed here, just perseverance.  Like the quote by Winston Churchill (and the country song by Rodney Adkins): "If you're going through hell, keep going."  It's kind of ironic that the lymphoma never bothered me (until the tumor got big enough to put pressure on my lungs and impact my breathing.)  Last year I was in the best shape of my life and did some really fun things, all while "having cancer."  The hard part has obviously been the chemo as well as the recovery from the biopsy debacle.

Another recent event I haven't mentioned was my dad and our friend Anthony shaving their heads on stage at church in support of me.  They did it to promote an event they're planning where people can shave their heads to raise money for us and the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society (cleverly named Operation Bald Eagle.)  I had no idea about it, so I was in shock at both the head shaving and that they were planning the event.  It's very hard for me to be in this position, but at the same time I'm humbled and grateful to have such an amazing support system.   

My dad and I after he shaved his head

 This past weekend was Memorial Day, as well as the date of the marathon I was supposed to run (the Vermont City Marathon in Burlington, VT.)  I was starting week 4 of my 16 week training plan when I found out my diagnosis.  I wasn't sad or angry.  Although I'm much farther from that goal than I was a few months ago, it's still something I know I'll accomplish.  For now, I'm excited that I've been able to start running (using the term loosely here) again.  I'm only able to make it 1.5 miles before my left leg feels like it's going to fall off, but it feels great to be able to do anything.  My left leg was the one damaged in the surgery, so it's going to take awhile to rehab it and I'm not sure it will ever be the same as it was.

My marathon training plan.  The gray was as far as I got before the diagnosis.

Today while I was hobbling along at my 11:00 per mile pace, I thought about Terry Fox.  He lost a leg to cancer in 1977 and then in 1980 he ran 3,339 miles across Canada in 143 days to raise money and awareness for cancer research.  His run was cut short when his cancer came back and he passed away in 1981.  I learned about him a couple years ago from an ESPN 30 for 30 documentary.  His story inspired me then and does even more today.  This weekend I'm going to run/ walk a 5K, (have I used enough hyperlinks in this post?) so we'll see how that goes.