Tag Archives: CCA

Cancer, Running

Race #27 – Undy Run/Walk 5K

Three years ago this weekend, I ran my first race — the 2012 Undy 5000.  I did this as a symbol of fighting back from only three months earlier having fought colon cancer… and won.

Three years downstream, and twenty-six races later, I returned to the Undy this morning, running my fourth race in this series.  The Undy is special to me, as it benefits the Colon Cancer Alliance, whose sole focus is to aid patients, survivors, caregivers and anyone affected by colon cancer.  Of all the races I run, this is the only “fundraising” race in which I participate.  That’s how important this is to me.

Me and Louie
Me and Louie

The weather was cold, and I knew it would be.  However, the sun peeked out from the clouds, and helped bring a little warmth to the park.  But, I was still glad to have all the cold-weather running gear I’d been investing in this winter.

In the opening remarks, the MC indicated that there were 2000 folks registered, with about $150,000 raised.  If you’re reading this, you may have helped either support me, or donated your money.  Either way, I thank you for that.  It was also announced that St. Louis is the biggest Undy event for CCA.  I’m a little surprised at that, as this is run in eighteen cities, some of which are much larger than Da Lou:  Denver, Atlanta, Philly…  We were the largest Komen race for a while, so maybe we just like to run and fundraise out here!

The course, while still at Forest Park, was different this year due to some parking lot construction at the site of the Muny.  Because of that change, the course was much flatter this year, and much easier to deal with.  With the new path through Forest Park, terrific traffic control, and a well placed water stop that you could pass twice, this was an ideal course.

On the Road Again
On the Road Again

I did have a surprise about a kilometer into the race.  There was some crazy redhead yelling at me from the sidelines, and I went over to her.  A hug, a kiss, and I was on my way.  I’ve never had that happen during a race!  She looked an awful lot like Darla, but that could’ve just been the sun in my eyes.  🙂

And as I approached the finish line, Darla was waiting for me, cheering me on.  There’s no better sight than that.

I got my post-race snacks, and waited for the closing ceremonies.  We all listened to a survivor and her story, and then the cool thing about this event took place.

All 71 colon cancer survivors and patients were invited to the front to receive a medal honoring their fight.  This is an amazing feeling, having almost two thousand people cheering their support for your fight.

And that’s what this race is about — supporting everyone who’s been impacted by this terrible disease.  I was supported during my battle; why wouldn’t I return the favor?

(Tomorrow is Race #28, and the last of this series of races for me until later in the Spring.)

Race Course:
Undy Run/Walk
Undy Run/Walk
Cancer, Running, Sports

I ran my undies off!!!

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Undy 5000 runner!
Your intrepid author!

The Undy 5000 has come and gone, and I ran my race.

OK, so I didn’t set any land speed records, and I didn’t run faster than last year — slower by about two minutes, in fact — but I ran a better race this year.  I was crazy nervous about this race.  You see, this was my first race since Race for the Stars last summer, and while I knew I could run the distance from my treadmill work over the winter, it’s a whole different thing when pounding the pavement.

Add to that the cold, cold weather — about 35 degrees at racetime — and I was a nervous wreck.

Becky brought Bailey, which helped ease my nerves, and while we were standing there waiting to get going, a good friend of ours from work, Scott, showed up to run with me.  Now, I’d tell you that I’m probably taking great liberties with the phrase run with me.  I ran my 5km in just over 51 minutes; Scotty blazed the trail in under 30 minutes!

Like they say, even slow miles are better than no miles.  I’ll take my slow miles, any day of the week.

And my slow miles actually went pretty well.  The course is configured with the finish line sitting atop a rise.  Last year, it’s all I could do to sorta jog (and mostly walk) up that rise.  This year, I zoomed right up it.  Part of that’s probably that I’m in a little better shape this year than last year, but it might also be that I paced myself better this year.  Last year, I zoomed through the first half-mile or more in a big ol’ pack.  This year, I didn’t start in the big pack, and I kept a little more consistent pace throughout the whole course.

Once the race was over, I got a little post-race sustenance, and waited for the Survivor’s Ceremony.  This is a special time for me.  All the survivors gather at the stage, and are honored for their successful fights.  And once they’re honored, folks who’ve lost someone to CRC are brought up, and are honored.  It’s a moving, moving ceremony.  This year, though, the folks from the CCA added a little extra touch.

Each of the survivors got a finishers medal to honor us for running our race, and raising our funds.

I’m not one to toot my own horn, and I’m generally a little uncomfortable when someone does that for me.  This was no exception, and I had a tough time holding myself together when the gal put the medal around my neck.

So I’d call it a success, both personally and for the CCA.  I ran well and strong, I raised some money, and I got a medal.  There’s just not a much better way to start a Saturday morning!

Cancer

Seven Months

Today marks seven months since the cancer was removed from my colon. Seven months a survivor. Seven months cured.

It’s still hard for me to believe that I’ve had cancer and beaten it (so far). I just have a tough time wrapping my head around that time in my life… almost like watching TV of someone else’s struggle.

And here in July, with no symptoms, and no reason to be concerned, I find myself a little scared. I get emails from the CCA, talking about new medicines and treatments, public policy decision of note and other things that concern cancer survivors and fighters. They also mention those who’ve been lost recently to the disease. And that’s the part that’s scary to me.

My cancer was found early — I mean, who ever hears of a Stage I colon cancer event? To me, it always seemed that colon cancer had an awful end, and that’s what I steeled myself for when it started to become apparent that I was headed down that diseased road. And yet, it hasn’t. I have a great prognosis, a clean bill of health, and yet somehow, I’m still nervous.

I think part of it is reading the blogs of those folks that are fighting the disease. There’s so much optimism and strength as they fight their Stage III and Stage IV diseases, and then sometimes, the realization one day comes that theirs is not operable, not treatable, and it becomes a clock watching event. And I can’t get past that, wondering if this time right now is the lull between the storms for me.

Why was I only grazed by this disease? Why did I have a symptom, which prompted us to do a colonoscopy two years before I would’ve been slated? Why was I given the right signs, guidance and doctors to save my life? I really don’t know.

But I know God has a purpose for all of us, and I know my purpose with Him isn’t just to play Taylor guitars and keep Apple’s profits up. Admittedly, those are good side benefits of finding myself alive and reasonably healthy at the end of seven months since my colectomy! I don’t know why He’s given me this second chance at life, and I just keep waiting to hear the voice that lets me know somehow what I’m supposed to do with this overtime period in my game of life.

I’m grateful, though, to be at the end of my seventh month of my second chance. And I’m praying for another seven, and another seven, and seven more sevens.