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Rock Canyon Half-Marathon report

I ran the Rock Canyon Half Marathon today. My husband, Stephen, loves this race and has run it several times. I, on the other hand, have not run Rock Canyon since 1999. I had nothing against the race. Rather, it was more a matter of us having to divide and conquer when the kids were younger. We both love to run but we each picked a couple of races each year and called it good.

I have only a handful of half-marathons under my belt. I honestly had no idea what kind of pace I would be running today. I knew that it would not be easy for me to run this race at a fast (for me) pace. I have been nursing some nagging injuries since I finished the Bear Chase 50 mile race back in September. Of course, there was also that little cancer thing that I dealt with this past year. Between my leg and my lungs, I cannot remember the last time I really was able to run “fast”.

In any event, Steve really wanted to run this half and wanted me to come along, too. I reluctantly allowed him to sign me up. I felt fairly ambivalent about running the half leading up to the race. Then, on Thursday, I woke up feeling sick with a sore throat, cough and overall fatigue. On Friday, my body was aching all over. I wondered if I should bother to go to the race at all, but I knew I would end up running somewhere, whether I went to the race or not. I figured I ought to at least give the half-marathon a shot.

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I Guess I Really Did Have Cancer

Posted on November 23, 2014

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Yesterday marked exactly one year since I found out that I had pancreatic cancer. The date was November 22, 2013. I will never forget the date, in part because it is also my father’s birthday. I still feel badly about delivering that news to my family on my dad’s birthday.

A couple of weeks ago, I sought out a second opinion from another oncologist. This has nothing to do with the care I have received. It has everything to do with my own peace of mind. I really should have sought this opinion last November or December, but my insurance company fought me and denied me so many times that I just gave up. For some reason, I could never shake the feeling that I should have gotten that second opinion. This may sound silly, but there was even a little voice in my head that wondered if the original pathologists had been wrong. Perhaps I never had Pancreatic Cancer after all!

On November 21, 2014, one day shy of the anniversary of my original diagnosis, I heard back from the doctor’s office where I had sought out a second opinion. 

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Remembering on My Cancerversary

Posted on November 18, 2014

There are certain moments that you will always remember in your life: your first kiss, your wedding day, the birth of your children. I can add to that otherwise happy list the moment I heard the words “Pancreatic Adenocarcinoma”. November 18 is the day I had surgery one year ago for what turned out to be Pancreatic Adenocarcinoma. I went into the surgery thinking that I had a precancerous lesion. I did, but there was also cancer present. This past year has been an amazing journey.

I remember seeing my primary care doctor and being told I needed some additional testing. I remember the moment when he got the report from my CT scan and we went from laughing and joking to a very sobering conversation. I remember feeling like the air had just left the room. I remember thinking that my then 10-year-old daughter Peyton was in the waiting room and we were headed to a high school cross country meet. I remember wondering how in the world I was going to pretend that everything was good around my children.

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Friends, Pikes Peak and returning to ultra distances

The girls had their last week of summer vacation this week. Since we had just returned from our trip 10 days before school started, the last week of summer was filled with appointments, check-ins at school and picking up last minute items in order to be prepared for the first day. Fortunately, the week was not all drudgery. 

I had visits with friends both Tuesday and Friday. On Tuesday, my friend Bill and his girlfriend Saraleigh came to Colorado Springs. They were vacationing in the mountains from Iowa and I was so thrilled that they were willing to make the day trip to see me. We went to the Garden of the Gods.

My friend Mark came to town on Friday for his annual date with Pikes Peak. My husband, Peyton, Mark and I went to the race expo and then to Helen Hunt falls in Cheyenne canon.

Sometimes people I haven't seen in a long time cry when they first see me. This has happened several times over the last few months. I used to feel very awkward about it. One of my friends this weekend said, "I thought I would never see you again." That is when the lightbulb went off for me, and I learned to just accept the love with grace and humility. How fortunate I feel that there are people who care so much. I guess I have taken it for granted that people knew I would ultimately be ok. Or I assumed that my fears were mine alone. As the fog lifts, I am able to that my friends have helped me carry my burdens all along.

Months ago, my husband said he was not going to race this year. He said this year was about getting me healthy again. I really wanted him to have a race. I wanted him to have something to focus on for himself. So, I signed him up for Pikes Peak Ascent. Steve has wanted to do the double the year he turns fifty in two years, so he needs to keep his qualifier active. I figured by doing the ascent rather than the marathon, he could get away with minimal training and still get his wave 1 qualifier. My husband chose to do no training on the mountain at all and instead spent his time running with me. I was certainly not up for the elevation gain of the Peak this year, so we ran, jogged and walked mostly flat stuff. By the time race day rolled around, Steve's last trip to Pikes Peak had been on ascent day in 2013.

 

Steve wore the Team Tonia pancreatic awareness shirt that Tim Barry designed. This was the first time either of us had seen it before in person. What an touching experience it was to read the various signatures from friends and strangers from around the country.

So, with no real altitude or hill training to speak of, my husband went out and broke his goal of under four hours with a 3:52. He amazes me. His selflessness over the last few months is what really astounds me, though. Steve could have gone out to run on his own whenever he wanted to, but he chose to stick with me instead. My husband is not one to lavish me with flowers or jewelry, but then again I am not one who needs or even wants those things. I know how much I must mean to him by the amount of time he has chosen to spend with me. Steve never missed a chemo appointment, and he sacrificed his own training to slog along with me at my pace. So while that 3:52 may not impress some fast people, it really impresses me for everything it signifies. It signifies his own selfless sacrifices over the last few months, because he is capable of running faster. It also demonstrates his strength and resolve to still get his wave one qualifier, even though he was suffering from lack of altitude training.

On Sunday, my friend JoAnne had asked to wear the shirt. Here she is at the start.

I remember when JoAnne did the ascent, she said it was the hardest race she had ever done. I am so proud of my friend for bettering her ascent time by almost 45 minutes and finishing in just under 8 hours! I know how hard it is to get to train on the mountain when you have young kids at home, but she made it happen and finished so strong! I am very proud of JoAnne. 

I want to extend a big congratulations to all of my friends who took on Pikes Peak and Leadville this weekend. I followed people's progress online for the better part of two days. Whether you hit your goals or not, I was inspired by each and every one of you who chose to toe the line.

As for my own running, I have been eyeing a race for months now. I wanted to make it my official comeback race, but I was undecided about distance. Should I run the 50k, which is a much more realistic distance to train for given the time I have, or should I run the 50 mile, which is what my heart wanted to do? The Bear Chase is a race I have run twice. I was third woman in the 50 mile two years ago and won the 100k last year. The 100k was my final race before my surgery, so this race holds an emotional significance for me. As I have begun to feel better, I have decided it was time to get off the fence and make a decision and a commitment to a distance. The last couple of weeks, I have gotten in a couple of 18-22 mile runs. On Thursday, I made it official and signed up for the 50 miler. 

This was the finish line photo with my family last year. I love this picture, because we were so blissfully happy and unaware of what was about to happen to our family over the next few months.

I know I will suffer during the race this year, and I am sure I will not be a podium contender, but I am just happy to be able to return and make an attempt at the 50 mile distance. Going into surgery last year, I was so afraid that I would never run ultra distances again. I am under trained and underprepared right now, but I feel like this is my way of making a bold statement that I will always live my life on my own terms and not be afraid to take chances. 

This coming week is a big one. Monday, August 18 marks 9 months from my surgery. I have my first post treatment testing this week, with CT scans one day and blood tests another. August 22nd will make 9 months from the time I first heard the words pancreatic adenocarcinoma. I anticipate a mixture of emotions cropping up, even though I am not particularly worried about cancer showing up on my tests. This week sounds like the perfect week to start concentrating on 50 mile training.

Breckenridge Getaway

I rarely ever say the words, "I deserve". I do not think the world owes me a good time or a reward. However, I have felt that after enduring more than nine months of the world revolving around my surgery and chemotherapy, my family does "deserve" some time to relax and have fun together. We have earned the right to set aside regular everyday lives and worries and to escape together to rediscover the simple joys in life, and to set aside the day to day stress and fear. This past week, we escaped to Breckenridge for a couple of days. A good friend who knows everything that has transpired over the last few months graciously offered us her space in the mountains for a few days, and we gratefully accepted it.

We loaded everyone in the van and drove up late in the week. 

Just seeing how excited my kids were made me so completely happy.

Even our dog was beside herself with excitement!

Our first day in Breckenridge, we spent time walking around the shops and down by the riverwalk.

Having limited internet connection was actually pretty awesome. We played board games in the evenings and just relaxed, read and talked.

Our second day there, we went for a hike. We decided to hike a 6.8 ish mile hike that goes by old mining cabins, waterfalls and two mountain lakes. The hike has approximately 1900 feet of elevation gain. It starts at 10,400 ish feet and goes up over 12,300 feet. I picked this hike because it sounded like it would be a workout for everyone, but more importantly because it sounded beautiful. One thing I have learned about hiking with kids is if you can motivate them by having specific landmarks as goals, it is a lot more fun and manageable. Just as distance runners learn to do, kids break things down into smaller attainable goals (1/2 mile further to the first cabin! One half mile to the waterfalls!) Also, when the young hiker starts to grow weary, bribing with chocolate works miracles.

We were on the trail before 8 am to try to beat any potential afternoon storms. It was a chilly 40 degrees when I first got up, but had warmed to 45 at the start of our hike. The first two mile segment of this hike is a gradual uphill. It's a good thing, too, because it has been a year since I have been at elevation. Just sitting around in Breckenridge, I could feel my body working harder due to lower availability of oxygen.

During the first two mile stretch, you can see and hear cathedral falls in the distance. Our hike would eventually take us to and then above the falls. Here is a close up of the falls. The picture below shows how far we actually were from it at this point.

A close up.

After two miles, we crossed a jeep road and then continued up the trail. This is where the trail gets steeper. There was only about 1.5 miles left to go, but most of the climbing is in this segment. Fortunately, there were lots of cool sights. This is the first old mining cabin that we encountered.

Waterfalls.

Another mining cabin.

Mining car pulley system.

Finally, we reached lower Mohawk lake.

We ventured up the last bit of trail to upper Mohawk lake. 

A marmot came by to say hello.

An old mining car.

It was very windy and cold at the upper lake, so we hiked down to the lower lake to eat lunch. We then ventured back down the trail and into town, tired and happy and in search of chocolate.

Our last day in Breck, my husband and I went for a short run in the morning. We ended up at this lake.

After our run, we took the girls to the Breck adventure park. We rode up on the gondola and tried out a few of the attractions. Aside from the rides, I think the most enjoyment came from the ability to play on a big pile of snow in July. No one loves snow more than Peyton and Steve.  They both had to take turns sliding down the hill before getting into a snowball fight.

After lunch we had to pack up and come home. I loved being away for even a short period of time without the intrusions of every day life. It was a quick trip but it was a reminder, as Riley said, of how fun it is to just hang out with our family. There has been a lot of fear and sadness in our house. Taking even a short period of time away without distractions can at least temporarily help us leave all of that behind. 

Now it is back to reality. My husband had to work on Sunday. I did a training run with Vanessa, then went grocery shopping and took the kids to do some school supply shopping. Today I have to return to the cancer center for the first time since my last day of chemo to have my port flushed. I am glad I have some good memories to hold in my heart. 

Cancer, Running and the Gift of Friendships

I have been toying with running a race this fall. I am still trying to determine what distance I am capable of training for and completing. I will likely either attempt a 50k or a 50 mile. My preference would be the 50 mile because I love that distance. However, I just do not know if I am capable of getting adequate training for a 50 miler between now and race day. This week, I did two medium distance runs a few days apart. I ran a flat 16 miler alone one day, and then a hilly 15 miler in cheyenne canon with my husband four days later.

I am not concerned with my running pace right now. I am just allowing how I feel to dictate my pace. The only time I break out my Garmin is if I am just interested in figuring out how far I have run. The heat continues to be a real issue for me. I am hoping that I will adapt with time. Monday was particularly warm, but I managed to log 16 miles.

On Tuesday, I ran four miles with Phil, who is coming back from an injury. Even though he has taken six weeks off from running, I still feel like he could potentially leave me in the dust. That evening, my husband and I went sans children to Jack Quinn's running club.  It was almost like a real date! We ran the 5k and hung out in the pub for a bit, chatting with other runners.

On Wednesday, I met up with Kathy and Clancy for a ten mile run and conversation. On Thursday, I suffered in a way I had not all week. I guess my exuberance was starting to catch up on me. I cut the run a little short, and added some walking breaks in because I knew I had a more ambitious outing planned for the next day.

On Friday,  Steve and I headed off to some of my favorite trails in Cheyenne Canon. I had originally figured we would run 10-14 miles. I surprised myself in that I felt better than I thought I would and I did not have to hike as much as I had anticipated. We knocked out 15 miles Friday morning. My legs got pretty tired on the downhill on our way back to the car, because my hill running has been very limited for months now. I have really missed these views and am so happy to be physically able to make it back here. 

Saturday morning, my husband and I ran together again. Friday's adventures had caught up with me, so I did a fair share of walking. By Sunday morning, I had recovered enough to not have to walk at all during my ten mile run with Vanessa. 

The pattern, if it is not already obvious, is that I seem to have energy just about every other day. I am thinking that this likely will mean I end up signing up for the 50k instead of the 50 mile. I think I will be able to get in some progressively longer runs as long as I allow myself time to rest and recover. I do not know if I will have the physical energy to do back to back longer runs that I deem personally necessary to run a decent 50 mile race. I still have a little time left before I have to make a decision, but I feel like my body is making it for me right now.

One issue I dealt with over the last couple of months of chemo that continues to give me problems is mouth sores. Prior to chemo, I never had problems with these painful sores. Towards the end of my treatment, I started developing them. This week I had another bunch crop up. Eating, drinking and even talking have been extremely painful all week. I hope the sores subside and do not come back beyond the fact that they hurt like hell, I really hate missing meals.

In non-running news for the week, I got to have a "girls night" with Riley on Thursday.

Since it was just us that night, we had intended to watch a movie and go to bed early. Instead, we ended up staying up late talking. I feel so fortunate that we have the kind of relationship where we enjoy discussions about meaningful concepts (love, marriage, relationships, as well as illness, death, God). It is far better to lose out on a little sleep and be present in those moments when they come. I hope I am always able to be here for my daughters. I am pretty sure when my girls are grown and gone, I will always remember and hold dear the conversations we have shared. 

I have long had a network of close running friends. Somehow, my cancer diagnosis seems to have widened that circle of friends. I continue to be humbled by the love and openness of the friends I have known for many years, and by the new friends I have made over the last several months. I have wondered at times why anyone would want to start a friendship with me while I am dealing with something so time and energy consuming. I have worried that my "baggage" would frighten people off. Yet it has not. Instead, I have forged several new and wonderful friendships over these last few months. Maybe it's because I feel that my experience has helped me to cut through formalities. I don't want to waste time on superficial discussions or meaningless pursuits. Or maybe it is the realization that my time is not infinite. I feel the need to fill my life and my heart with good people. Or maybe my experiences have just helped open my heart more, and to make me seek out kind and giving people. Whatever it is, I am glad my circumstances have deepened older friendships and brought the gift of new ones.

I started my blog months ago in large part because when I went looking for other pancreatic cancer survivors, there was not a whole lot that I could find that had a positive outcome. I started writing and sharing my story because I wanted to find a way to connect with other people in my situation or in a similar situation. I was hoping that somewhere down the line, my story would give hope and comfort to another person facing challenging life circumstances. Since I have started writing, I have been contacted by several people who have been newly diagnosed with cancer. Some have been fellow pancreatic cancer patients. Others have had other forms of cancer. The common theme is that people want to connect with others who understand the fear that comes with being diagnosed with cancer and the uncertainty of what the future might bring. I feel privileged that so many people have chosen to contact me and share their stories with me. Please keep connecting with me and honoring me with your stories. I have enjoyed being inspired by every person who has chosen to share their struggles and challenges with me. 

First chemo cycle done and my changing body

I have finished my first cycle of chemotherapy and am about ready to start my second cycle. A cycle for me is three weeks of chemo and then a week off. I have noticed several side effects already. 

     First of all, the exhaustion is just overwhelming. I have never been so tired in my whole life. I would love nothing more than to just lie in bed all day, every day, but that just is not in my personality. 

     Secondly, I get nauseous. I have not thrown up yet, but I often feel queasy. Thirdly, I have had digestive problems. One week this sent me to the ER to get straightened out. Fourth, I can tell my immune systems is working over time, because I have gotten sick with a respiratory bug for the first time in a few years. Not a huge deal right now, but I hope the cough, sore throat and stuffy nose do not evolve into something that might threaten my treatment plan. My blood levels are still in the normal range, but they have dropped already from where they started. The oncologist said not to be surprised if we have to alter my chemo schedule at some point.

     Fifth, my skin is very dry. This is common and not a serious problem, although sometimes the itching makes drives me a little batty.

     Sixth, while I have not yet noticed hair thinning on my head, I have noticed that I rarely have to shave my legs and underarms these days. I used to shave every day and now I could get by probably once per week. I am sure this is affecting the hair on my head, but I have so much that I have not yet noticed.

     Seventh, I think the chemo is messing up my menstrual cycles. I have not gotten a period since before I started chemo. This is also a normal side effect, but unlike many women who wish to be rid of their periods, I want to hang onto mine for as long as possible. I hope my cycles come back after the chemo is over and that I am not being permanently pushed into an early menopause. I have come to find a certain comfort in the routine of my body's cycles, and I know that there is a protective effect for bone health that goes away when a woman goes into menopause.

     Finally, I get muscle cramps. This is not the end of the world, but it definitely limits some of my physical activity. I asked the doctor about this side effect at my appointment this week, and he thinks the chemo is affecting my glycogen stores. My electrolytes are still in the normal range, so he thinks my glycogen is being depleted. 

    My doctor asked if I had noticed any changes in my body. Well, yes, of course. I have not really gained weight, but the insult of major abdominal surgery followed by the start of chemo has resulted in a new softness to my body that was not there before. I used to routinely run 70-100 mile weeks depending on what I was training for, and lift weights 3-4 times per week. Now the longest run I have done is a half marathon. I couldn't lift anything over 10 lbs for six weeks following surgery and now I find I am so exhausted that I may get a run in but I have trouble following that up with weights. Furthermore, my port makes a lot of upper body exercises uncomfortable or downright painful.

     I have always had a conflicted relationship with my body. When I was young, I could never have a low enough body fat level. My thighs were too big. My stomach was not flat enough. I was horribly cruel in my own self assessment. 

     When I got pregnant for the first time at age 28, allowing myself to grow large and round was mentally difficult. I had worked in the fitness industry and spent a lot of time in front of people in front or a mirror. Giving birth to a baby girl changed something in my brain. I remember having an epiphany one day and telling myself, "you don't have the right to screw up your daughter with body image issues." 

     It was around this time that I had become a runner. I ran my first marathon, the Mississippi gulf coast marathon, when Riley was 11 months old. I was so incredibly proud of myself when I crossed that finish line. I went on to run the Mardi Gras marathon seven weeks later. I was hooked. More and more races followed, and I started to appreciate my body more for what it could do than what it looked like. Getting away from that gym mirror and being outside to challenge myself was liberating and helped me to over come a lot of my body image issues.

     This past summer, I finished my first 100 mile race at the Vermont 100. Running that far is definitely not something you do for health purposes. It is hard on the body. I remember the morning after the race, prior to going to the awards ceremony, looking at my bloated belly and swollen feet and ankles. I absolutely did not care what I looked like. The puffiness somehow became a badge of honor. I wondered how in the hell I could have ever been so cruel to my body when my body was capable of doing such amazing things. 

     That feeling has carried me through until now. I look at my abdomen that looks like a jigsaw puzzle. I have a scar from having an open appendectomy years ago. I have a scar from my breasts to my navel from when half my pancreas and spleen were removed. I have a large lump and scar in my chest from my port. So far my body has not failed me. Yes, I have been invaded by an alien life form (cancer), and it has beaten me down a bit, but it has not defeated me.

     I know the changes I see in my body over these next few months of chemo will not be positive ones. I hope I can continue to be in awe of what my body can do, rather than what it looks like. Prior to my surgery, I thought running 100 miles was hard. Little did I realize, it was just the warm up for what was to come. I hope as time goes on, that I can continue to be kind to myself. Getting my diagnosis, and going through what I have already gone through has made me realize that the people who love me will never care about the size of my biceps, the flatness of my stomach, the girth of my thighs. I know they, and I, just want more time together. We need more time.