A Slacking Blogger

I'm so sorry!  I've been such a slacker at updating the blog, letting you know what's going on with my running. Believe me, it's because all my free time is busy with either running or getting ready for the race.

I've been getting in some good runs, 8, 9 and 11 mile runs.  Times are averaging anywhere between 11 & 12:30 a mile, which makes me happy. I've had some issues with the asthma, the lungs don't want to work quite as well as I'd like them to, but I won't complain. The runs have been challenging, each in their own way. The 8 mile run was an out and back done on a long, hilly road on a cloudy, grey, windy day. The 9 and the 11 were done with Running Buddy and were pretty good runs, all in all. 

I'm happier than I can even express that that all my stomach issues seem to be a thing of the past. Going from GU to Stingers was such a good move!  I introduced Running Buddy to them and we're both hooked.  The cherry flavored gels are reminiscent of the Luden's Cherry Cough Drops from our childhood memories.  Yummy Goodness! Seriously - I could eat these things like candy!  We also tried the pomegranate flavor and those are almost as tasty! Maybe I prefer the cherry flavored just because of the good memories they stir, but I'll be packing both for the race.

I have had some issues with a shin splint in the right ankle.  It's just a sharp pain in that area just above the ankle bone where my foot and shin come together.  That coupled with the numb feeling in the bottom outer area of my left foot has caused me to become rather concerned about the shoes I've been wearing.  Just before the Woodbury Country Mile, I bought a pair of Ascics Kayano shoes. Like my Sauconys, they are a stability shoe, but I think they are "softer". With all the asphalt/concrete running I do for training, I'm not sure they are the right shoe for me, so I've gone back to the Saucony ProGrid Guide 4.  I'll get a few runs before the race in the new shoes, but I'm sure they'll be just fine.

Clothing is next on the concerns list.  While the weather is getting colder here in Minnesota, I'm finding that it's the perfect weather for me.  I am much happier running when it's cooler than when it's warmer if I'm wearing the right clothing for the temperature.  However, the race is in North Carolina, which means I will probably need to wear my warm weather running clothes.  Last year, I ran the race in shorts and a short sleeved shirt.  I plan on something similar for this year, but I may change the shorts to a pair of capris.  I'll pack for all weather and decide the night before. One thing that won't be up for debate is my shirt.

I've ordered a Wear Your Number shirt.  It will be printed with the race bib design on the front, along with my name.  On the back will be the logo of my $1,000 sponsor, my employer, Thomson Reuters.  Under that will be the words "Light the Night 2011" and a special printing. 

The special printing will read as follows:

Running in memory of Will, Toodie, Gordy and Ann
Running in honor of Heidi, Noah, Cole, Charlotte, Mike, Jenna, Samantha, Margie, Jon & Christopher.

Even now, as I tell all of you about this, I am remembering more people who deserve a spot on my back.  Michelle, Greg, Pete, John, Viktor ... just to name a few.  While it makes my heart heavy to know that so many people are continuing to be affected by cancers, of all kinds, knowing that every day we are making strides towards a cure will make every single mile of those 18.1 miles worth it.

Yup - 18.1.  I've decided that I want to run the Pamlico Jack Challenge.  The Challenge is to run the 8k (5 miles) on Saturday morning and the half-marathon on Sunday.  I'm pretty determined that this will be my last long run, so I want to go out with a bang.  Most everyone I know, particularly the runners, are insisting that this will not be my last half, but I'm fairly convinced in my own mind that it will be.  I've already run 3 more than I ever thought I would and after the OBX, I will have run 4 half-marathons in a year's time.  That might not seem like a lot to those who run races every weekend, but it's 4 more than I ever thought I'd be able to do.

Right now, I'm feeling very selfish, not as altruistic as I was when I first started this adventure.  I will continue to run, but I'm going to stay under the 10 mile mark.  I want to run for the heck of it and for my health.  I want to be able to skip a day without feeling guilty because I've screwed up my training schedule. Even as I write this, I realize that I'm slipping back into that "about me" mode that I was determined to stay away from. 

I can't forget the reasons why I started this adventure -  Cole, Charlotte, Noah, Heidi,  MikeToodie and Will, and their families, people I've met through the years whose lives have been affected by blood cancers and I can't forget the reasons why I stay committed - Jon, Christopher, lymphoma survivors, and Paul & Jane, who lost their teenage daughter Ann, in February, all my 2011 LTN team mates;  Greg, the brother-in-law who is a prostate cancer survivor; Michelle, the breast cancer survivor, Viktor who lost his earthly battle but finished the race and won the crown of life.

I will run as if my life depends on it.

I will run because someone's does.

I will run.

Can I get a drumroll, please?

I almost captioned this "Can I get a witness" because I just feel like shouting Hallelujah!!  I have such amazingly wonderful things to share, but first....

 I'm still here and I'm still running!  Since my last post before the Light the Night event, I've still managed some pretty decent times during my training runs ------ OH WAIT------ you want to hear about the Light the Night event? You want to know how everything turned out?

Well, can I just say it rocked?  That the last update from the local chapter indicated over $550,000 has been received and more money is coming in?  Can I just say that the Thomson Reuters Light the Night team and its subteam, TRiumph exceeded our goals by $3,000?  Again, I feel like shouting "hallelujah, can I get a witness??"  Through so many individual efforts, a bowling/silent auction fundraiser, the company match and the corporate sponsorship, we were able to provide $16,550 towards the fight against blood cancers.  Now, can I hear you say it too? 

I am so proud of the team.  They are such caring and invested individuals.  Some of them are survivors, some of them are fresh from the loss of a loved one.  All of them are truly amazing individuals and I am better for spending time with each of them.

Here's a picture of the team with Rod Carew

Note that this isn't all the team, just the ones that made it for the picture with Rod. 

I have one thing left to do for this team and for all of you who have taken the time to read this journal and have possibly sponsored one of my training runs.  I have to run a half-marathon and I have to keep my word.  Remember that I said that if anyone gave me $1,000 I would put their name on my running shirt.  Well, Thomson Reuters is matching my $1,000 so I'm going to proudly wear the company name and logo on my shirt.  However, you see those amazing people in that picture above - well, they have stories too.

The man in yellow, well, that's Jon.  He's a survivor. The redhead?  That's Deb, she was walking in memory of her husband's cousin, Gordy.  Somewhere in there is little Margie, another survivor.  That white hat, that's Jon, again, a survivor.  Paul and Jane, they walked in memory of their daughter Ann.  Carla, her son Will.  Amanda in honor of Samantha.  Stories that I am priviledged to have heard and each of them has given me permission to add more to my shirt.  When I run my half-marathon on November 13, it will be my honor to have the names of the loved ones on my back as well. 

Now, about my training, it's been going well.  I'm continuing to maintain a pace between 10-12 minutes per mile.  I'm truly confident I've mastered the gut issues with the honey and honey based energy gels.  There's some tweakiness in the right ankle, but it doesn't seem to be getting any worse.  I don't feel as nervous about this race as I did last year at this time which makes my training kind of fun. Don't get the wrong idea, I said kind of fun.  I'm still not in love with running, but it is starting to grow on me.

I'll try be more diligent in the coming days.  I have some long runs ahead and I'm sure you'll want to know all about them.  Ha! 

Until next time...

It's time to Light the Night!

It's here!  The night I've been running towards for the past several months.  Tonight at Target Field as the sky grows dark, the lights will go on in hundreds of balloons; white balloons carried by victorious warriors, gold balloons carried by loved ones of those who lost the battle and red ones for those folks like me who just want to show our support.  I will probably start to cry just like every other year.  I'm kind of soft that way. 

I'll be looking for the faces of the children, Cole, Noah, Christine along with the adults I've met along the way. There's always just a wee bit of fear that someone will not be there and I have to steel my heart against it.

Have to keep this short, we're going to hit the light rail to get to Target Field and start blowing up all those balloons.

Oh - yesterday was the Dash for Dad, the prostate cancer run. Team Save the Walnut raised $525.00.  Not too shabby for its first year.  I'm happy to say that I ran my best 5k yet.  31 minutes!  That's a 10 minute mile, folks, a whole lot faster than when I first started this craziness.  Carl ran a slightly faster than 15 minute mile and finished at 45:00 minutes. Very proud of him!!

And so I run...

First, thank you to everyone for being a part of this adventure with me.  I appreciate all of you so very much, whether you're just a passer-by, someone who's sponsored a run and wants to make sure I get that run done or just a follower.  Thank you so very much.

Today - I'm not going to tell you anything about my runs, I'd rather give up this space to Jon and Pat.  The following is the presentation that they made at the recent Eagan Relay for Life.

Relay for Life – August 5, 2011

Pat:  I’m Pat Eveslage and this is my husband Jon.  We live in Burnsville. I work at Lloyd’s Barbecue in Mendota Heights and Jon works at Thomson Reuters here in Eagan. Our son Paul is 23 and our daughter Elena is 19. With all the amazing survivors, caregivers, friends and volunteers here tonight, we are honored to be here to share our story with you.

Jon:  Our story begins late in 2007. During my annual physical, I told my doctor about some unusual symptoms I was having. A lymph node in my neck was swollen and I was always warm and having night sweats. In January, 2008, I had a lymph node biopsy and a bone-marrow biopsy and found that I had stage 4, follicular non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma, a slow-growing blood cancer.  I was 48 years old.

We spent the rest of 2008 trying to get the cancer into remission. Four different types of chemo were tried – 16 rounds all together – until there were positive results late in the year.

Pat: What a long year it was! Jon was able to go by himself to the treatments and didn’t have many side effects or miss much work for most of the year. The last treatment, given at Christmas, was pretty hard on him. That’s when my sister-in-law, the pharmacist, said it was probably working.

Jon: While I was going through the chemo treatments, my doctor suggested that I look into having a stem cell transplant.  It was the only hope to completely cure the cancer once it was in remission. I worked with the University of Minnesota Blood and Marrow transplant program. Because the cancer was already stage 4, my doctor didn’t think an autologous transplant, where you use your own stem cells, would be effective. I would have to find a donor. I didn’t find a donor match with any of my three brothers or anyone in the adult donor pool. The only option left was a dual-cord transplant, where they use the umbilical cord stem cells from two newborn babies. Fortunately, we found two babies that matched. (And we later learned that one was from Europe!)

In March 2009, I had one last round of chemo and radiation to destroy my bone marrow and immune system to allow the donor stem cells to grow. The transplant is painless and just like a blood transfusion. The stem cells find their way into your bone marrow and begin making new blood. After 100 days, one of the two types of stem cells becomes dominant and creates your new blood. It’s really quite an amazing process, and we are lucky to live so close to the U of M, one of the only hospitals in the country that does dual-cord stem cell transplants.

Pat:  Jon spent 10 days in isolation before the transplant and 17 more in the hospital after the transplant. Once home, he had to return to the BMT clinic at the U every day for the first week. He couldn’t drive at first, but fortunately our son was home to drive him for some of the trips. It wasn’t until August – almost 5 months later – that Jon’s immune system had recovered enough for him to return to work.

 

Care giving for a stem cell transplant patient involves a lot of things.  Jon’s immune system was knocked out, so mold, dust, etc. can cause infections.  He was pretty weak at first, and later when he went out he had to wear a mask. He wasn’t allowed to mow the lawn or work in the yard. It was a long summer for both of us.

Jon: By the end of July I was feeling better. Just before I went back to work, we decided to take a family vacation to Copper Mountain in Colorado. We enjoyed the scenery and some short hikes. The kids went horseback riding and we relaxed. Near the end of the trip, Pat wasn’t feeling well and we made a trip to the local hospital. We found that she had mountain sickness, not uncommon for flat-landers like us from Minnesota. She was given oxygen at the hospital and by the time we were back to Denver, she was feeling better. Little did I know that it was soon going to be my turn to be the caregiver.

Pat: I still didn’t feel very well after we returned to Minnesota.  I was run down and tired all the time.  My friend, Marilyn, advised me to see my PA, so just before Labor Day I saw her and she immediately asked if I had had a colonoscopy.  All I could say was, “No, when I turned 50, Jon got sick and I couldn’t think about myself, let alone schedule a procedure like that.”  So, she said, “You’re having one now!”  And, two days later I did.  Well, the news was not good.  I’ll never forget the doc’s face as he said there was a mass and he thought it was probably colon cancer.  All this the day before my birthday!  So, you do what you have to do.  They assigned me to a surgeon who was wonderful.  The surgery was successful but, unfortunately, they found cancer in five of the 27 lymph nodes that they had removed.  This meant that chemo was necessary to make sure it was gone.  So, at the end of October (after a wonderful weekend with four close friends on the North Shore) I began six months of treatments.  My chemos were more debilitating than Jon’s had been.  But, I looked on it as prevention, I was certain the cancer was gone.  I also knew I would not be able to make it through those months without the help of my friends and family.  Every two weeks I made the drive to St. Louis Park with a friend in tow.  It helped me to not dread the day and to know that I had 3 hours with that special friend.  One time I even was next door to a dear friend, who has since passed, and we spent the time together.  What a blessing!  In fourteen trips, I went with 11 different people.   I will never forget those afternoons or the wonderful nurses who cared for me.  My mother cared for me after the surgery and on the weekends after chemo.  I was able to make it to my job until the last few treatments, when I needed almost a week to recover.  My Bible Study friends, my Bunco neighbors, old friends from high school, work colleagues, and family were instrumental in helping our family through those months of both our journeys with cancer.  Meals were brought, prayers were said, fleece chemo blankets were made for us and we received wonderful e-mails.  Even our daughter was cared for by her youth group at church.  All these things happened because we were not afraid to share what was happening.

Jon: We live in a time where it is OK to tell people you have cancer, and that is a blessing. Everyone must handle their situation in the way they’re most comfortable, and we learned from those before us that you cannot walk it alone.  No one can help you if you don’t tell them what you need.  No one can pray for you if they don’t know you need the prayers.  Many amazing things happened to us.  We know God was involved and continues to be here.  It’s now over two years since my transplant and the cancer is still in remission. This past winter I was once again refereeing high school basketball games.  Pat has had good CT scans and labs for a year, and her latest colonoscopy (done by her wonderful surgeon) showed no cancer.  She doesn’t even have to have another one for three years.  Thank you.

Notes: Autologous (own) vs. Allogenic (others) stem cells

4 chemos:   1. R-CVP 2. R-CHOP 3. R-ICE 4. R-DHAP

And so I run...

Feeling Stronger every day....

I've had to do my last few runs alone with Maddie.  Running buddy is dealing with some severe plantars and is off until it's under control.

Of the past few runs, all between 4 & 6 miles, only one was a fail.  I was going for six miles and it wasn't going to happen.  I can't tell you why it didn't work, it just didn't.  Was it too warm? Did I not prepare properly?  I don't know. Some days are like that I guess. 

The weather is cooler now and I'm loving it.  The timing is perfect too, as I'm having to add on miles now to prepare for my next half-marathon. My asthma and allergies seem to be under control moreso now than in warmer weather.  I'm able to run longer and farther without stopping for walk breaks.

I've worked out the stomach issues - I think.  I hope.  I really really hope.  I still have some episodes of sprinting to and through the front door to the bathroom, but they are becoming fewer and father between. Diet is a huge factor and allowing myself enough preparation time prior to the start of a run is key.

I've added ice baths back into my recovery routine.  It's excrutiating, but I think my legs feel so much better.  I'm loving my compression leg sleeves too.  They are the best! 

Next weekend will be busy.  Saturday is the 5k Dash for Dads.  Carl and I are running as part of Team Save the Walnut in honor of our brother-in-law, Greg, a prostate cancer survivor. Sunday is the big day/night - the goal I've been running towards for three months now.  Light the Night at Target Field.  The Leukemia and Lymphoma's walk to honor survivors, victims and their families. 

As encouraged as I feel about my running and as grateful as I am for all the support I've received thus far, I'm stressing out about the team's goal.  My $1,000 goal is very close and with the company match, I'll make the $2,000.  The team's goal is farther off.  Fortunately, we have a team fundraiser for October that should help us accomplish our goal.

If you have time - please jump over to Jenna's blog, The RedHead Report.  Jenna is now past 100 days from her bone marrow transplant.  Her blog postings are much more real and interesting than mine.  She writes about her experiences with her cancer and its treatment, not pulling any punches or looking for pity. She's pretty darn amazing.

I just run.

Sorrowful - Yet always rejoicing. Victor-ious!

This morning's run started off with tears - tears of sadness and yet of joy.  I cannot add to the story of Victor Watters.  My nephew Eric says it so well on his Facebook:

Prayers for strength go up for the Wat[t]ers family. I'd say R.I.P. but I know better than that. Victor isn't resting; he's dancing on the streets that are golden, where he can draw deep, full breaths of air without cancer slowly and painfully taxing his weakened body. There he awaits his loved ones and smiles down on them until they too take the journey home.

You can read about Victor and his family on their CaringBridge site
and in Ruben Rosario's column today

Childhood cancer - ewings sarcoma - not a leukemia or a lymphoma - won the battle, but Victor, through his Savior, claims the victory.  He fought the good fight, he finished the race strongly and I know he has heard the words - "Well done! Welcome home."

Cancer is cancer, it doesn't matter the cause. 

And so I run.

Meet one of the reasons why I run...

Meet Heidi Gusenius, Senior Campaign Manager with the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society of Minnesota.  Heidi is my go-to gal for the Light the Night Walk - and unlike me, she has a VERY personal reason for being involved with LTN.

In her own words...

There is a statistic out there that every 4 minutes, someone is diagnosed with a blood cancer... well, I contributed to that statistic on July 6th, 2005 when I was diagnosed with Acute Myeloid Leukemia.  As a "never-been-sick-a-day-in-my-life" strong, healthy young woman in my mid-20's, I had never even thought of the word CANCER for myself.  After finally going in to see the doctor for all the bizarre symptoms I had been having (including nausea, vomiting, broken capillaries, severe headaches, strep throat, and fatigue) I started to worry when he told me my white blood cell count was so high, their lab machine could not even read the number.  He then told me I needed to go to Fairview Southdale and have a bone marrow biopsy done - IMMEDIATELY!  I had no idea what that procedure entailed (had I known, I probably would not have gone!).  They didn't even wait for the results of the biopsy to send in the oncologist... they already knew. 

After a month-long stay at Fairview Southdale where I received a groshong catheter, a couple PICC lines, leukopheresis, two types of chemotherapy, numerous blood and platelet transfusions, and 4 more bone marrow biopsies, I was declared in remission!  I finally got to go home - just to come back for 4 additional rounds of chemo for the next 6 months. 

I was one of the lucky ones that beat the odds and am thankful every day that I survived that horrible disease.  

Now, I’m even more grateful to be expecting my first baby this fall!  The doctors never knew for sure whether or not carrying my own child would be a possibility, but I feel so blessed and am anxiously awaiting it’s arrival. 

What Heidi didn't share is that she's a runner. She's participated in the San Diego Marathon to raise funds for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society's Team in Training. In the three years I've known her, she's run it twice.  She gets a bye for this year as she and her husband Mick are happily anticipating the arrival of their first child which is due right about the time of our LTN walk! 

Heidi, Carl and me as I received the LLS 2011 Volunteer of the Year Award

Heidi is one of the many reasons.  I can't image a world without a smile like hers.

This weekend I ran the Woodbury Country Mile Half-Marathon with my young friend Cara.  It was her first half-marathon and she rocked it!  Her goal was 3.5 hours, her dream goal was 3 hours and she nailed a 2:47:16!  That's an awesome time for a walk/run first time effort!  It was really sweet to see her husband and daughters waiting for her at the finish with flowers! 

My race was almost as good, 2:47:42! and with no stomach issues! I stuck with the Aspen Ridge Honey Farm stix, my own water and but for tired legs and some soreness in my back, I felt great! I felt great until Monday when all the things I did prior to the race, coupled with the race and sitting at my desk for hours caught up with me.  A visit to the chiropractor, some time with the heat wrap and I'm good to go again. 

It's 4 weeks until the Light the Night event.  I'm still short of my goal, but I'm trusting that things will soon start picking up. 

Have a safe and happy holiday weekend!