Road to Recovery

My last chemotherapy treatment was June 16. This was my first official week of being finished with treatments. I woke up Monday morning and decided to try a simple fartlek style speed workout. I have maintained a base level of running over the past few months but I certainly do not feel fit or in racing shape. 

A common theme for me throughout my treatment was that I had trouble practicing my mantra of "moderation in all things" on the days I felt halfway decent. This continues to be an issue for me. Instead of going out for a couple of miles of speed work, I felt so good and so happy that I ran ten miles at a faster pace than I have become accustomed to running. 

I had to ditch my watch long ago. I knew I was getting slower and stressing myself out by looking at my pace as it fell off over a cliff was mentally destructive. I have no idea what pace I was running on Monday, but I know it was faster than what I have been doing lately. I let perceived exertion be my guide. It felt great to really use my leg muscles and work my lungs. When I finished I felt so happy. The physical and emotional boost of getting in a good workout was tremendous. Still, I probably ran too hard for too long. I spent the next couple of days paying for my over exuberance. 

On Tuesday, I did a run/walk. I wanted some exercise but I took it easy because I had to. I really had nothing left in the tank after Monday's run. That evening, my family made it's first post cancer appearance at a Jack Quinn's Running Club run. Last summer, we were regulars at JQRC, but after I found out I had to have surgery, we stopped going. I had hoped to go some over the winter and spring, but found that I had absolutely no energy in the evenings during my treatments. It was great to be back this week and it just kind of worked out that JQRC was having a field trip to Boulder Running Company. We ran the route and enjoyed some food and family friendly games afterwards. It was a treat to get to see so many friendly and familiar faces all in one place! 

All of this activity caused me to crash by Wednesday. I met Tracey for a run in the Garden of the Gods and I am pretty sure that she thought she was going to have to call 911 while we were out there. To say I huffed and puffed my way through the Garden is an understatement. Even when I slowed to a hike, I was breathing hard and felt dizzy. A couple of times I had to come to a complete stop to return my breathing to normal. The company was great and the scenery as spectacular as always, but frankly I felt extremely frustrated with myself. I felt embarrassed that I was in such sorry condition and wondered aloud if I will ever be back to normal. 

By Thursday I started to feel a little bit better. I ran about 8 miles with minimal walking and felt more positive about things. On Friday and Saturday, my husband and I ran together and I managed to get through both runs with minimal walking. On Sunday, I woke up feeling good and managed to get in a 16 mile run with my friend Debby.

Throughout my chemotherapy, I have made it a habit to do one run over ten miles each month. Typically, it would be the weekend of my week off from treatment. So, once a month I tried to get in about 16 miles. Sixteen miles is what I consider a middle distance run. For the past several years, I have run "long" year round. I love long runs. I love being out on the trails for hours at a time. I love to run long with company and I also love to be out alone. This year, I knew I couldn't keep up with super long runs, but if I could just get that middle distance run in once/month, it would be so much easier building my long run back up. Going from 16 to 25 or 30 miles seemed manageable. Going from 5 to 30 seemed impossible. Knowing I have done what I can to maintain an endurance base will physically and mentally help me get back on track as time goes on. 

I have a ton of work to do. I am slow. I have had to incorporate walking breaks into many of my runs. I have lost a lot of the muscle I used to carry. But I know I can pull the pieces together. I may not ever be as strong a runner as I used to be, but I hope to some day be able to get back to the ultramarathons that I love. 

I have had  people say I will come back stronger than ever. I have had people say that my story has inspired them in some way. I do not know if I will come back stronger. Frankly, my body has been through a lot. Things have changed physically, and that is a reality I have to live with. If my friends or readers have been inspired in some way by my story, I am thrilled. I hope the inspiration comes from how hard I have continued to work with what is my "new normal". I have never been a particularly fast runner. I have never been running to win. I run because I love running. When it all comes together, running is my bliss. I hope that I have conveyed that it is not necessary to be fast or to win or even place in your age group. What matters is that you keep moving forward, no matter what. Not quitting, in running and in life, is more than half of the battle. You do not have to be the best, but you have to have heart.

I am excited to see what the coming weeks bring. I do not know how much longer it will be before I really notice a difference in how I feel. I realize that he road to recovery will be one of rolling hills. Recovery will not come in a straight progression. I have to learn not to push the pace too hard on the days I feel well because I pay for it afterwards in a way I never have in the past.

No running photos this week. Instead, here is a picture of my daughters and me at the Colorado College campus on the final day of Peyton's camp.

Milestones

This is a weekend of milestones. Today, Sunday may 18th marks six months since I had surgery. On that date, my surgeon removed half of my pancreas, my spleen and a bunch of lymph nodes.

 

This photo was taken November 22 while I was still in the hospital. 

 

 

Here is how my stomach looks six months later. 

 

I am pretty pleased with how it has turned out so far. I am not nor have I ever been ashamed of my scar. It will always serve as a reminder of how far I have come through this process. 

 

Tomorrow will be my 15th chemo session. I then will take a week off and have one cycle left. Four treatments over the next five Mondays. June 16th is set to be my last day of chemo. These last four treatments will not be fun, but I can see the finish line off in the distance.

 

The cumulative effects of treatment seem to be catching up to me. I feel more tired and nauseous than I did early on. I had treatment on Monday of this past week. It had snowed Sunday night and into Monday. My husband and I did our traditional pre chemo run, but because our school district was on a two hour delay, we had to cut it to 9 miles instead of 10. Colorado in May:

 

 

 

 

Tuesday morning, I went for a run after a meeting. I was tired and it was walk/run. I went by myself, which allowed me to just go at my own easy pace and not worry about holding other people back. I thought maybe this would be an easier week physically because I did not feel too badly on Tuesday. 

 

On Wednesday, however, my body decided to fight back a bit. I had met Tracey and her dog Arlo for a run. It's a good thing Tracey is not squeamish because part way through our run, I started dry heaving. Every mile or so, I would have to stop, try to throw up, and then we would continue on our way. Puking while running is not the norm for me. Even during the Vermont 100, I never got sick. I always thought I had an iron stomach but apparently I do not right now. Hopefully that will change after June!

 

I continued to get sick Wednesday afternoon and evening. I went to bed hoping to start fresh on Thursday, but I woke up at 2 am with muscles aches. I never got back to sleep again that night. Thursday morning, I ran with my husband and my friend Debby. I was in a fog the whole time and when we finished, a lot of the run seemed hazy. 

 

On Friday, I met up with Vanessa and her husband Andy for an 8 mile run. I have run with Vanessa before but this was my first time meeting Andy. I really enjoy meeting runner couples, and I appreciate that they included me on their running date. 

 

Yesterday Stephen and I went for a walk/run around the Garden of the Gods. I had planned about an 8 mile run, but I just bonked and ended up hiking quite a bit. It was a beautiful morning, though, and if you are going to be slow, it might as well be in a spectacular location.

 

Through all of the week's ups and downs, life has gone on. I had to rush my dog to the veterinarian on Tuesday. She is ok but gave me another scare.

 

On Friday, my youngest went off for a weekend of camping with the Girl Scouts. My oldest went to a formal with her boyfriend. 

 

I am signed up for a walk/run to raise money for pancreatic cancer (Pancreatic action network purple stride). This takes place the weekend after I finish chemo. A high school friend, named Kerry, teaches second grade in Texas. On Saturday, I got a donation along with this sweet letter. It says, in part, "We decided to donate our money this week to you, instead of buying snacks at school. It's not much but we hope it helps." Don't ever doubt the heart of the upcoming generation. There are so many kind and compassionate young people out there. 

 

 

Today, my husband and I will run. Tomorrow I will complete cycle 5. Just like in any long race, marking off milestones, is important mentally. It helps me to focus on how far I have come and how much closer I am to finishing. If you think about running 100 miles in one big chunk, that seems really overwhelming. If you break it down, aid station to aid station, that helps make it seem more manageable. When I started this process back in September with various tests, and then surgery and them chemotherapy, it seems like a ridiculously long process. I have been marking off time by counting down treatments and cycles, and that has made a huge difference in my outlook. What once seemed so far away is now coming close. Only a few more miles to go, and I will be done.

Normalcy

When I got my cancer diagnosis, suddenly thoughts of cancer started to dominate every aspect of my life. The chemo port in my chest is a constant reminder that something is terribly wrong. My life is different in ways large and small right now. I crave to sense of normalcy from my pre diagnosis days. I want to be concerned with the mundane aspects of life.

 So, even thought it was -4 windchill with several inches of snow on the ground here yesterday, my husband and I went for a run. It is just what we do. We were both runners when we met, and we built our relationship over hours, days, weeks, months and years of running together. We are not a dinner and a movie kind of couple. We prefer to be out, pounding out miles together, discussing everything from the very run of the mill (what are we having for dinner) to much deeper topics. We have solved major problems in our life while out doing long runs together. 

  A month after we met, we ran the Wyoming marathon together. It was a small field, and I came in first female. Here we are at the finish. 

A week later, we ran the Taos marathon together. Soon afterwards, we ran the snow mountain ranch marathon together. We have run countless miles and races together since then.  Running is a very big part of our relationship. It is a special bond we have together. When I ran the Vermont 100 this past summer, it was my husband who ran with me for 30 miles through the night, and I wouldn't have wanted anyone else with me during my first 100 miler.

 So yesterday, we hit the trails despite the cold, windy, snowy weather. 

And after a frigid run, we took our youngest daughter to American girl. She has been saving up to buy Caroline.

And then we came home and watched the football playoffs and had dinner together as a family. Even though I am very much aware of what is to come in the next week, it felt as close to normal as it is going to be for a while. I am grateful for normal.

 

A year of running and a cancer diagnosis.

I am a 44 year old married mother of two. I started running when I was 28. I spend my spare time running the trails of Colorado with my husband and my friends. The year 2013 has been a year of highs and lows. I ran three ultra marathons this year. In April, I was fourth female at the cheyenne mountain 50k. In July, I ran my first 100 mile race. I finished in 22:33 in the Vermont 100,  which was good enough for tenth female overall. Two months later, I ran a 100k race and was third overall and first female. 

Race number pick up from the vermont 100

My husband and I at the finish of the vermont 100. 

  Sometime in between the Vermont 100 and the Bear Chase 100k, I started feeling very tired and felt like I had some difficulty breathing normally. I saw a wonderful doctor who sent me for a CT scan. This was when I found out that I had a pancreatic neoplasm in the tail of my pancreas. I was sent for an MRI, and then an endoscopic ultrasound. I was told that, while the doctors thought it was premalignant, it needed to come out ASAP. I was scheduled for surgery in November of 2013.
   I ended up having a distal pancreatectomy and splenectomy. I spent five days in the hospital after my surgery. I have an incision from my chest to my belly button. It was on the day of my discharge that I found out I had pancreatic adenocarcinoma, aka pancreatic cancer. I was "lucky" because while the diagnosis was not a good one, mine was caught early. 

Here is my scar.

    Four weeks out from the surgery, I was cleared by my surgeon to start running. A couple of days before the official month mark, my husband and I went out and ran a few miles together on a local trail. It was so amazing just to get out and feel "normal" that I wanted to cry from happiness. I have been packing in as much running with as many friends as possible over the last couple of weeks because I am not sure how I will feel over the next few months. 

My first run back after surgery!

  Tomorrow, 12/30/13, I am getting a chemo port inserted. I start chemo January 13, 2014. I still cannot believe I received a cancer diagnosis. This has been a very surreal experience. I know the next six months will be a challenge for my two daughters and my husband. I hope the impact on my family is minimal. I hope I can keep running through my treatment. That is my goal. I still think of myself as the healthiest person I know with a little touch of cancer.