Humbled

In October I knew Humbled would be the title of my next entry - it has been the theme of my first few months back.  I just didn’t realize the full impact of it until this week. Bear with me, I promise this all comes back to triathlon.

We aren’t doing Christmas this year. No decorations and no presents.  We’re not being the Grinch, we just don’t have the energy. We didn’t really do Christmas last year because I had just had my surgery and wasn’t working. We didn’t really do Christmas the year before because ML’s trigeminal neuralgia was an issue and she was getting ready to have surgery at Hopkins and I was flying back and forth to Denver and the new job.  Yes, it’s been a tough year, but we have always known that there are so many people way worse off than we are and do our best to focus on the positive and being grateful.  We are healthy, safe, and have some of the best family and friends in the world.  There are new babies in the family! And, this is a biggie, a PhD in the family!! 

Still, some days are hard. Last week was hard. In November we came very close to losing my 94-year-old mother-in-law. Family members flew in, arrangements were discussed, and a lot of tears shed. Miraculously, she rallied! She is in a rehab center and one of us was getting there every day to oversee her recovery. Last Tuesday the place was “in isolation.” A stomach bug was raging through the population and they asked people to stay away for a couple of days. Too late…. three days later it raged through our house.  You know how you have that one time in your life when you were so sick you will never forget it? Mine was January of 1988 when I was living in Madison on Warren Street. Well, it was, until last week. Right in the middle of all this I learned that I would not move forward in a search I was more excited about than anything I’ve looked at. (wow you can’t make this stuff up! It sounds worse than it is… We are healthy, safe, and have some of the best family and friends in the world!)

I hadn’t really shared this, but my ultimate goal for this first segment of “training” was to prove to myself that I could walk 26.2 miles. It is a deal breaker – if I can’t do that, I can’t do an IM. I dug out my training schedule from my first marathon (Disney 2011) and put it all in my inspiration journal and got to work. (Surprise, 26.2 landed on the Disney Marathon weekend.) I did 100 miles in November and was all set for the long walks in December. Last week I had an 18 miler scheduled.  It didn’t happen. Suffice it to say, the events of the month, 4 days of inactivity and missing the most important mileage week of the training, I was at that door- the one you walk through when you're done. Five days, then six days, went by and I was still not moving. I was on FB and I saw the runDisney post “One month from today! Are you ready?” On a whim, I wrote something about what I’d been up to thinking maybe it would help me be accountable and get me out on that 18 miler.  This is what I wrote….

“Tough year - fought cancer, no work. But I'm a fighter. Ran Disney 2011,12, &13 and loved it. I can't afford Florida this year but have been training to walk/run with all of you virtually on the 13th!! 18 miler this weekend. (I'm in CO so you will be warmer than me!! lol) ENJOY the magic!” 

There were several very nice comments. Still I didn’t move.  Then this….

“Deb Armstrong...This really moved me... and I see we have a mutual friend, I would like to speak with you. You should be in Florida with us and I want to see if I can help make that happen. Please PM me!” 

Let me add a few other coincidences in here:  the mutual FB friend was one of the 5 team-in-training angels from my first marathon (see previous blogs), that angel just happened to be this guy’s TNT coach, and this guy just happen to be on FB to see my post among the thousands of other comments. And oh ya, TNT just happen to be where endurance sports all started for me…hmmmmm.

I pm’d him (let’s call him Charlie.) I acknowledged his offer to help and politely declined. Well, Charlie is a top fundraiser for TNT and it is not hard to see why – he was not taking no for an answer. I got this response with a link to his fundraising video….

“Hi Deb. I totally understand your hesitation. BUT, I’d love for you to think about it. [A group of my friends and I have] already discussed. If you want to race, you should race. We have confirmed an entry into the marathon for you or if you prefer, the half. We will take care of everything. Airfare, hotel and race entry. Your post moved us all. The fact that you were training virtually is amazing dedication and we want you to be part of the team with us, no strings attached. This is why we do this!!! I get the fear of being swept, but everyone needs a balloon lady story anyway!! Please consider!!  This is purely us reading your story, being moved and wanting to do something special for someone. You don’t have to share anything you don’t want to. Just come have a great weekend with a bunch of runners and cancer fighters. Watch this and then try to say no!”

When it comes to this sport, many people have applauded me for never giving up and thanked me for being their inspiration. The truth is, I want to give up ALL. THE. TIME.  I HAVE given up many times… This is me!  Then, some angels come along and inspire me, this time in a way that was beyond my wildest dreams. Some of those angels from 2011 I know well. This one I knew for 15 minutes, eight years ago. If not for being FB friends, I probably wouldn’t have responded to Charlie.

I think I’m supposed to do this. So, I’m going to Disney! I wasn’t training for a race with time requirements, so I might do the half, or maybe meet the balloon lady personally this time. Either way, I am so humbled and grateful. I can’t wait to meet my new angels and tell you all about them! I have to go for a walk now!

Merry Christmas!

This is Me....

November 14, 2017. Breast Cancer. Invasive ductal carcinoma - ER + PR + HERS. Stage 2, grade 3. Right breast, 2.7 cm tumor, lymph nodes negative. And, for those of you who care or understand, oncotype score 35.  Lumpectomy Dec 7th. Twenty weeks of chemo - four red devil infusions and 12 taxol. Four weeks of radiation. Sure, I knew I was going to go through some crappy shit for a few months, but then it would be over and I'd simply get back to life. HA - Funny how your mind plays tricks on you in order to cope. I didn't really know I had cancer until eight months later.

One day shortly after my diagnosis I was thinking about what I wish I had done more of, what had I left unfinished.  I didn't think about this because my prognosis was bad. In fact it was very good. But, cancer just makes you think about things differently. Surprisingly the first thing to come to mind (after of course the spending more time with family) was reading - I wish I read more. I used to,but somewhere it got lost in the shuffle.  There is nothing better than coffee on the deck (especially on Sunday) and a book.  I hardly ever do that. The second thing was no surprise. Ironman - unfinished business. The words I wrote to my coach in my 2013 "why?" section of my race plan came back:

• Ok, so here it is. I've been thinking about this a lot and had not been coming up with the thing until I got my bid number. My father was big into numbers and signs – I got that from him. J  I was looking for some meaning in the numbers when I realized they were the month and day that my father died. Why on earth would the day he died be significant – you know rather than his birthday or something a little more pleasant?
  
  
  I hated that day and not just because of the obvious. In his last days, my father  struggled because he was so reluctant to let go without having taken care of the things he was supposed to or wanted to do. I know this because he kept repeating them in his very restless, semi-conscience, morphine state. "I have to do …. I have to take care of ……"
  
  
  I do not want to die that way. My bid number is the answer to my "why."

I decided that when I was done with treatment, I'd get back to Ironman.

Fast forward eight months.  I was about a month out of chemo and I was dealing with some neuropathy in my feet. Wasn't I suppose to be back to normal? The nurses said it might be permanent. Then, in my first appointment with the radiation nurse I was told that I would need to stay out of the sun for 6 - 12 months. After that I would need to use sunscreen to protect my right shoulder and shoulder blade area because it would always be sensitive. Permanent side effects?! There was no going back to normal. This was the "new normal" I kept hearing people talk about. And it hit me - I had cancer and I was pissed. Finally I realized why so many people say "f' cancer." I had been wanting to climb the 200 step incline at Miller Park since before treatment started. We did it that weekend. At the bottom when I was finished, I yelled "f*%! cancer" as loud as I could.


No more excuses. I gave myself two years and started a plan. August I would focus on finishing radiation, paying attention to my eating habits, and walking - walking with purpose as one of my former coaches would say! With a bad knee and the neuropathy, any 26.2 in my future would have to be a walk and it would have to be a fast walk! I created an inspiration log and broke the two years into quarters.  My first quarter (September to December) focus would be healthy eating and building my walking speed and distance.

August included 39 miles of walking, a dozen very easy strength session, and the loss of a few pounds. I wasn't sleeping until 9:00 or 10:00 a.m. because I laid awake until 2:00 a.m. I felt like I was walking taller. I started wearing exercise clothes again. I climbed those stairs again. I started remembering what it felt like before.

There are several people on FB who are great inspirations to me. Last week one of them wrote this...

• "People say I'm crazy, why put my body through this?? Because this is who I am. Training for Ironman has gotten me through some of my darkest times."

Someone replied ....

• "It’s the pain I think I’m addicted to because of the mental strength it gives me to get through life’s challenges."

This would be a good place to mention that two weeks after my diagnosis I lost my job. We couldn't move because of the HMO that our cobra covered.  Our family and friends are on the other side of the country and we know virtually no one in Colorado. (though the couple we do know have been phenomenal friends!)  There's been no income for nine months and I have no idea what's next. No idea who I was suppose to be now. My point is, it's been a little dark and I could totally relate to those quotes!

I was driving to radiation after reading that post. I thought about my early morning walks and the four miles I was able to do only two weeks after starting. I thought about climbing the 200 step incline. It felt great and it all helped with the stress.  (I don't think it is any coincidence that this was at the same time I was seeing eyelashes and eyebrows again!!!) I thought, wow have I missed this! This is me.

Yesterday was my last day of radiation. Perfect timing for starting my "new normal" plan today -  September 1st.

P.S. I'm keeping this hair cut - I think its kinda bad ass :)